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losfacedevil · 7 months

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Tattoos and Blow Jobs // DRW

a/n~ Sooo.. Daniel with a tattoo huh? Oh the thoughts did this one evoke in me. I attacked my love @vanfleeter with this idea and well, let’s just say shes one if my biggest enablers. This is my redemption.

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI Oral (m! Receiving) allusions to sex.

It was unlike Danny to leave without warning - it was even more unlike him to leave in the middle of the night.

You awoke that morning to a cold and empty bed, the furnace of a man who had originally been tucked up next to you long gone. Bolting upright you glanced around the room to find his overnight bag gone and upon further inspection his car to be still parked in your driveway. You had no recollection of him leaving, him having not woken you to kiss you goodbye - or at least not that you were aware of.

But when his phone went straight to voicemail you had an inkling of what he was up to. Squinting your eyes against the harsh red light in the dark you let your vision focus before reading the time and with a soft nod of your head quickly found Sam’s contact in your phone.

“If this boys still sleeping I swear.” You mumbled, pressing the call icon before pressing the phone to your ear. It rang four times before a sleepy groan greeted you on the other end of the line.

“Sammy, where’s Danny, darlin’?” You drawled, knowing Sam had a soft spot for you. A soft sigh and the shuffling do what was probably his sheets could be heard down the line before he answered in a groggy voice.

“San Francisco, but you didn’t hear it from me.”

~*~*~

Less than twenty four hours later you heard a knock sound at your front door. A groggy fog encased your mind as you looked at the clock that sat directly above the television in the living room.

11:45pm

A groan slipped past your lips as you pushed yourself up off of the couch and straightened out your shirt - one of Danny’s old and threadbare high school shirts - before slowly dragging yourself over to the door. Pushing up on your toes you fluttered one eye shut and looked bleary out of the peep hole.

Danny stood on the other side of the door clad in his favorite comfy travel jeans and a cut off band tee. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time before gently knocking on your door once more. Giggling softly to yourself you knocked back - something the two of you had come up with to make finding each other at parties easier before flattening your feet to the floor and opened the door.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” You cooed, leaning up against the door jam. Reaching down you wrapped your fingers around the bottom hem of the shirt and tugged, trying to cover yourself a little better. A beaming grin spread across Danny’s face as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I couldn’t miss curling up on the couch for movie night with my girl, now could I?” Danny said, shrugging his shoulders before swiftly slipping past you inside.

“You couldn’t miss that but decided to sneak away before I was even awake the morning? Okay, break it to me easy, Tiger, what’s her name?” You joked, pressing the back of your hand to your forehead as you closed and locked the front door.

“Matilda. But look at this!” Danny’s voice jumped an octave as he turned and presented his arm to you. It was wrapped with Saran Wrap held together by medical tape. He pointed at it excitedly, his eyes gleaming as he looked back up at you.

“Did you hurt yourself? Did you spend your day in the ER or?” You knew exactly what lay under the Saran Wrap, having seen a doodle he was passionate about drawing splayed all over his things for the past week or so. A soft smile caressed his face and he rolled his eyes as he gently began to remove the bandage from his arm.

“Sorry I went MIA - Sam knew where I was. But you know how I had been talking about that doodle I’ve been drawing all week? Well I thought about it and decided it would make a really cool first tattoo, because it’s my moon phase from the day I was born and you know how I feel about the moon and well - look what I did!” He rambled on, slowly removing the rest of the Saran Wrap and crumpled it in his hands.

Danny turned so his newly inked arm faced you, the sharp lines and bold black out stripes sitting perfectly against his tanned skin. Your eyes flickered to his and you took a step forward, reaching out to wrap your hands gently around his forearm. You inspected the piece up close, moving your head this way and that as your eyes danced over the intricacies in the moon and upside down triangle that housed it.

“The moon and the sun are the two most constant things in my life, my travels, so on and so forth. But the moon, it changes with its phases and well, we all change with ours don’t we? But it always reminds me that where there is an end, a beginning always follows.”

You danced your fingers up towards the reddened and sore skin, wanting nothing more than to trace your fingers over the newly inked lines in his skin. His eyes never left the tattoo, basking in the fact that he had actually gone through with it and that you seemed just as intrigued by it as he was. You gripped the underside of his bicep firmly, the tips of your fingers accidentally brushing against the sore skin and caused him to pull a hiss of breath in through his teeth.

“Ooh, let’s not bump it, that’s still sore, darlin.” He mumbled, turning his arm gently so your eyes could follow the bands of black that now encompassed his entire bicep. You dropped your hands to his waist, stepping even closer to him as you inspected the entirety of the tattoo. Danny cocked his head to the side and raised his arm, flexing the muscles of his bicep. He chuckled lowly as he watched the ink dance as his muscle rippled.

“See? Isn’t it cool?” The thoughts that danced through your mind were colorful ones. Your eyes never left his arm as you took a small step back and quickly found his gaze with yours.

“It’s so cool, I always knew you’d look badass with ink. But… can you do me a favor?” You glanced up at him through your lashes, a devilish smirk playing across your lips. He dropped his arm to his side, careful not to bump it against his body and placed a gentle hand against your cheek.

“What do you need?” He cocked his head to the side, every request he could think of playing in the forefront of his mind. You eyes blazed with excitement, pupils dilating right before him as you nuzzled your face against his palm.

“Show me… show me it in the best way possible. The.. the way I’ll see it the most.” You giggled, ghosting your hand gently over his hips in an attempt to help him understand your request.

Danny’s eyes grew wide as realization washed over him and he nodded softly. He backed you up slowly, hand never leaving your cheek until your waist was pressed against the high back of the couch. He took a step back and let his hand slide down your neck, gently wrapping his fingers around the sides of your neck. Your eyes were immediately drawn to his new ink, watching as it danced softly every time he would tighten and loosen the grip against your neck.

His eyes began to cloud with lust, watching the way your jaw became slack and your eyes rolled back every time he’d tighten his grip the slightest bit. A sinister chuckle escaped him as he pulled you away from the couch and wrapped his arm securely around your waist.

“Oh you like that? Is it my hand around your throat or the way the tattoo dances?” He chuckled, leaning down to rub his nose against yours. Your hand came to rest against his crotch, the straining of his already hard cock clueing you in to his enjoyment as well.

“I think you know the answer to that - though I could pose the same question.” You giggled, wrapping your hand as best as you could around his cock. He sucked in a deep breath, the whistling of it though his teeth like music to your ears. He removed his hand from your throat and placed it on the top of your head, applying gentle pressure in a silent request.

You did what was asked and slowly sunk to your knees, looking up at him through your lashes as you rested your knees fully against the hardwood floor. Reaching around with his other hand he cupped your chin in his palm and gently tilted your head until your gaze met his.

“Look how pretty you are, down on your knees like a little obedient good girl. Now how about you do me a favor and suck it.” Danny chuckled, digging the pads of his thumb and index finger into the soft skin of your cheeks. You raised your brow cheekily before reaching up and gently sliding his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock.

Your lips curled up into a devilish grin and you darted your tongue out between your lips, effectively dampening the skin. Your eyes found his as you wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft and gave it a gentle squeeze. His chest visible rose with the deep breath he pulled in through his nose and he pulled a bit of his bottom lip safely between his teeth.

His reaction was one you craved, the subtlety of his teeth worrying down in his bottom lip, brows furrowed together as he watched you with his fingers burrowed deep in your hair, his nails scratching gently against your scalp was enough to drive you mad. His nostrils flared as he watched you open your mouth, tongue darting out quickly to lick a thick stripe up the underside of his dick. The sharp, whistling intake of breath through his teeth was all the encouragement you needed.

Slowly you wrapped your lips around the tip of his dick, eyes never leaving his jaw slackened slightly and he ran his tongue along his bottom lip. You sunk your head slowly and hollowed your cheeks, taking him as far into your mouth as you could. A huff of breath escaped him as the tip of his dick caressed the back of your throat briefly - pulling back quickly as to not trigger your gag reflex.

You set a slow and steady pace, retracting your cheeks to create the suction he craved and reached up with your free hand to cup his balls causing him to toss his head back. A low chuckle escaped your chest, the vibrations of the noise causing his dick to twitch in your mouth. You knew slow and steady won the race with Danny, pulling him even closer to the edge with every swirl of your tongue over the tip of his dick.

He continued to scrape his nails gently across your scalp, the sensation sending chills down your spine and keeping your attention as you brought him fully into your throat once more. He righted himself, pulling his head back up and his eyes quickly found the newly seared flesh, the dark black of the ink contrasting perfectly with his already tanned skin.

He took a deep breath, muttering soft praises as you as he watched the muscle ripple under his skin causing the ink to dance every time he tightened his grip in your hair. A look of wonder snuck up behind his eyes as he kneaded his hand against your scalp, gently flexing and releasing his grasp as he watched the tattoo move. No wonder you had wanted to see it with his hand around your throat.

He began to twist his arm gently, admiring the art now permanently etched into his skin as his hips began to buck into you involuntarily. You glanced up at him through your lashes, his jaw still fallen slack but his eyes were trained on the way his arm moved, how the lines of the tattoo danced.

A loud moan toppled from Danny’s lips as you brought him over the edge, his orgasm crashing into him unexpectedly and bringing him back to you. He fought against the buckling of his knees, his grip in your hair fully tightened as he held you in place and filled your mouth with his release. His chest heaved as he leaned forward slightly and rested his hand against the back of the couch, steadying his wobbly legs.

“Holy shit, what the fuck.” His eyes were wide as he glanced down at you, loosening his grip in you hair and massaged your scalp gently. You couldn’t help the giggles that slipped past your lips as you pulled away from him and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Who knew you getting a tattoo would turn us both on beyond measure.” You giggled, reaching up to pull his hand from your hair and used it for leverage to pull yourself up to stand. Danny’s breathing began to even as he regained his composure and reached down to pull his pants up.

Your eyes were back on the tattoo, watching it dance as he buttoned his jeans. Lifting his arm up he flexed the muscle - showing off just how cool he thought it was once more. Your fingers danced dangerously close to the sore skin, his eyes snapping to yours and he reached over, enclosing your wrist in his large hand.

“Let’s see how it dances when my hands are all over your body.”

Your eyes grew wide as a sinister smile spread across his lips and he bent at the waist, wrapping his arm under your bottom and lifted you up. Giggles escaped you as he tossed you on the couch, hovering over you and placed soft kisses to your face.

TAGLIST: @gretasmokerising @vanfleeter @tommie-gvf @writingcold @joshsindigostreak @runwayblues @dannyandthekiszkas @wideminded-dreamer @ohgodthefeeling-gvf

#danny wagner #danny wagner fluff #danny wagner smut #danny wagner fic #danny wagner fanfiction

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kayleighwinchester · 11 days

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Pilot (Part 1)

Alright! I was debating waiting a little while to post this, since I only posted that first little drabble last night, but this portion is finished, so I figured I would post it anyway. This is part one of my rewrite of the Pilot; I'm very slowly working my way through the vast majority of the series! Like the drabbles, these will be tagged by season, and will be posted in order. I think it's important to note that I changed out a portion of the dialogue for the exchange in the original script; I personally think it flows a lot better, and I prefer it far and above what we got onscreen!

Thank you guys for the support I got on the drabble - it means a lot! <3

There were a lot of things Dean Winchester expected when he shimmied open the front window to Sammy's Stanford apartment - and there were a lot of things that surprised him. It was far nicer than he might have expected from a college kid; even one in on scholarships and maybe a part time job. It looked like it was most certainly lived in by more than one person - a few odd touches here and there that were distinctly more feminine. More than anything, though, he most certainly was not expecting the slow, low click of a loading gun, the sound of the safety clicking off, a sound he had never quite gotten used to - and he wasn't expecting to find himself staring down the barrel of a very, very familiar Glock.

"What the fuck are you doin’ here, Winchester?"

Kayleigh Evans's voice made his heart stop in his chest, his eyes finding hers in the darkness. She was a healthier weight than he remembered from high school, from those four years that John had dragged her all over god’s green earth right there with him and Sammy - she’d filled out a bit, no longer almost concerningly thin - her hair was a bit longer, falling in messy curls down her shoulders and back, her eyes foggy with interrupted sleep - but she looked pissed. Even as angry as she was, he half-expected her to lower the gun - at least to point at center mass and not directly between his damn eyes - but there was no such luck. Apparently, seeing that he wasn’t a robber wasn’t reassuring her in the least, and did nothing to assuage her displeasure. If anything, it might have pissed her off even more.

"Whoa. Easy, Leigh. Put the gun down, and let's talk about this for a second." Dean said slowly, his hands raised in surrender. While he might have trusted Sam to be willing to have a semi-civil conversation, that wasn’t necessarily a risk he was willing to take with Kayleigh - not after how they’d left things, not with how he knew her temper, and certainly not with the fact that her first instinct upon seeing him, apparently, was to point what he could only safely assume was a loaded gun in his face.

"What the fuck are you doin’ here?" She repeated, louder now - she didn’t seem to be trying not to wake Sam up - her eyes flashing back toward the rest of the apartment only briefly as she heard footsteps. Her posture didn’t ease, and the gun didn’t lower, however, even as her eyes met Sam’s, as the youngest Winchester finally came padding into the room.

"Sam, you wanna call off the attack dog here?" Dean demanded, though he clearly didn't think it was a particularly smart idea to move - not with the gun he'd given Kayleigh for her fourteenth birthday still pointed firmly between his eyes at point-blank range with no signs of lowering any time soon.

And to his immense frustration, Sam repeated, essentially, the same thing Kayleigh had said - albeit with distinctly more confusion, and one less loaded gun. "Dean? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, I was lookin’ for a beer." Dean said, sounding more than a little exasperated by the entire situation. "Can we please get the gun out of my face, huh?"

"Kay, it's fine." Sam finally said, maybe a bit reluctantly, as he stepped further into the room. Her eyes flashed to his, and slowly, slowly, the safety was back on with a low, soft 'click', and she was brushing past Sam a bit too roughly - more roughly than Dean had ever seen her be with the younger Winchester, damn near shoulder-checking him to show her displeasure - back toward the futon. And then his eyes were back on Dean, voice low, mildly impatient, as if he were speaking to a defiant child, not his older brother. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Okay, alright. We gotta talk.” Dean said simply, opening his arms in mock surrender. Sam stared at his brother for a beat, before dryly suggesting,

“The phone?” Dean’s expression soured just slightly. “If I’d’a called, would you have picked up?” He demanded. Sam hesitated briefly, and he finally relented with a roll of his eyes.

"Sam?" A fourth voice joined the mix, the lights flicking on, flooding the living room with warm, bright light. For the first time, Dean could see around the room clearly - could see the futon Kayleigh was seated on, a duffel bag shoved beneath it, the painfully familiar sewn-over-and-over-again teddy bear that, even at twenty-six, Kayleigh appeared to have no problem carrying with her - the poor thing was practically more thread than it was ‘bear’ anymore, patched up by various hunters’ wives over the course of their childhood. "Kay?" And Dean's eyes finally flashed toward her, toward the pretty, slim blonde in the doorway. She was leaning against the doorframe, squinting just slightly, her eyes struggling to adjust to the light, and Sam turned sharply.

"Jess. Hey." He breathed out, as if she was all that mattered in that moment - as if seeing her was a relief that nothing else could possibly bring, a single ounce of normalcy in this whole, shitty moment. "Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica." He finally said as he turned back to Dean - and, surprisingly, Jessica's face lit up.

"Your brother Dean?" She asked Sam, not seeming to notice - or maybe willfully ignoring - Dean's gaze on her. He wasn’t expecting that, somehow - that she’d know him, or know of him. He’d almost expected that he would have been relegated to some dark, secret corner, someone that Sam never spoke of. It was, admittedly, a pleasant surprise to know he was wrong.

Dean sauntered forward a step or two, encouraged, at least, by the gun no longer pointed at his face and Jessica's welcoming smile. "I love the Smurfs," He observed, motioning vaguely to Jessica's shirt. "Man, I gotta tell you, you are completely out of my brother's league."

"Let me just go put something on." The smile had fallen from Jessica’s face as quickly as it had come, and her eyes darted to Kayleigh on the futon, to Sam at her side. Kayleigh just rolled her eyes and nodded - something even Dean could read as an unspoken ‘yep, that’s him alright’.

"No, no, no, no - I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously." Dean said quickly - a little too quickly for Kayleigh's taste, if her expression was any indication - and she pointedly shifted herself to the edge of the futon, digging through her duffel briefly, before she started cleaning the damn gun, like an absolute cliche, her eyes not leaving his face. "Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business, but, uh - nice meeting you." His grin grew, and he gave a wink. Kayleigh's expression soured further, and Jess's grew mildly uncomfortable.

"No - no. Anything you wanna say, you can say it in front of her." Sam said firmly, and Kayleigh's eyes flashed to his, a look of distinct pride on her face.

"Okay." Dean said simply, as if the idea didn’t bother him at all - truth be told, it didn’t. "Dad hasn't been home in a few days." He didn't miss the derisive snort that Kayleigh let out, his jaw working briefly. "You got somethin' you wanna say, Leigh?" He bit out, though his eyes didn’t leave Sam - as if he didn’t trust his own temper if he let himself look at Kayleigh for too long, her attitude quickly beginning to grate on his already frayed nerves.

"So your jackass Dad's workin’ overtime on a Miller Time shift. I'm sure he'll stumble back in sooner or later." Kayleigh said lightly, not looking up from her gun. Sam fought to bite back a smile, even as a soft snort escaped, even as Jessica looked between the three like they'd gone nuts.

"Dad's on a hunting trip," Dean clarified, his voice cold, as his eyes flitted briefly to Kayleigh, and then shifted back to Sam. "And he hasn't been home in a few days." He let himself look back to Kayleigh, to take in the expression on her face. He could see the gears turning, see where her mind went - exactly where he’d intended. Her own father, slumped down in the passenger side of the Impala, his father driving - he didn’t have it in him to offer any kind word to soften that particular blow, even as he saw her expression change, her jaw work, her eyes dart back down to the gun in her lap.

That caught Sam's attention, and for a beat, silence reigned in the small living room. "Jess, excuse us. We need to go outside." Sam said quietly. "Kay, c'mon." Dean stared at Sam for a moment, looking like he wanted to protest - but at the look on Sam's face, he just nodded. This time, Dean let Sam lead the way to the front door of the apartment, sparing a moment to cast a glance around one more time, taking in the quiet domesticity of it - something he’d never had. In spite of everything else, he felt a swell of pride - Sammy deserved as much - and then it was gone as they stepped out into the hallway, Kayleigh pulling the door closed behind them.

All three were silent until Sam nudged open a side door, the cool night air coming in a welcome, refreshing blast - something to clear Dean’s racing mind, even if it was only for a moment. He let Dean pass, falling into step behind him, Kayleigh remaining a few steps behind - it seemed she trusted her own temper around Dean about as far as he trusted his own.

“I mean, come on. You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you.” Sam finally spoke, voice rather annoyed now as he made his way down the metal stairwell. He kept the volume just a bit quieter than he might have otherwise - maybe to avoid disturbing anyone sleeping above or below, or maybe to avoid drawing attention to, well, any of their conversation.

“You’re not hearin’ me, Sammy. Dad’s missing. I need you to help me find him.” Dean did his best to stay patient, to keep the quickly rising irritation out of his voice. He wasn’t sure he succeeded - the soft snort from Kayleigh several steps above him just confirmed as much.

“You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine.” The younger Winchester retorted, and, in spite of herself - maybe just to add a little fuel to the fire, Kayleigh finally spoke up.

“He’s always fine. The poor sons’a bitches he drags into it with him 'n anyone that trusts him usually aren’t, but… ‘S long as Dad’s okay, ‘s all good, right, Winchester?”

Dean stopped in his tracks, his boots clanking on the stairs as he turned to look back up at her, green eyes narrowing slightly. She stared right back, lips pursed into a thin line, as if daring him to argue, and Sam instinctively shifted, his shoulder just barely in front of Kayleigh’s chest on the step ahead of her, making a barrier between the two, just in case one of them made a move. Dean was silent for a long, long moment, his eyes fixed on Kayleigh’s. “That’s not what we meant, ‘n you know it, Leigh.” He bit out after a moment.

“No, but ‘s how it always goes down.” She retorted, and Sam drew in a deep breath, offering a quiet, ‘guys,’ as a halfhearted warning. Kayleigh ignored him, continuing. “Every time someone’s stupid enough to call John Winchester in to help, they get themselves killed instead. Sure as hell doesn’t make my dad or Jo’s dad the common fuckin’ denominator, Winchester. So why the hell d’you think anyone’s gonna wanna help? ‘N you wanna drag Sammy back into it?”

His eyes fixed on hers, and he looked like he fully intended to continue arguing, before he finally appeared to choose to, just this once, be the bigger person, his eyes moving to Sam instead. He drew in a deep, steadying breath, his shoulders rising and falling slowly with the movement, and continued as though Leigh had never spoken up, glancing back up to Sam as he continued down the stairs, “He’s never gone for this long. Now are you gonna come with me, or not?”

“I’m not.” Sam said firmly, eyes fixing on Dean’s. “Look, whatever’s going on here, Dad can handle it.” He stopped dead in his tracks as Dean hit the last stair - abruptly enough that Kayleigh nearly slammed into him, reaching out for the banister to steady herself.

“What part’a this don’t you understand, Sammy? We have to find him. You have to help.” Dean forced himself not to sound as infuriated as he felt - instead, it came out a bit condescending, even to his own ears, like he was speaking to a child. He didn’t miss the way Kayleigh’s eyes flashed to his, a silent warning, so like the ones she’d given so many times when he’d come off too harsh on the little things - his little brother looking at colleges, trying out for a sports team instead of focusing on the job…

“...Why do you need my help?” Sam prompted, and Dean was growing more and more certain that he was being difficult on purpose.

“He’s our Dad. You’re his son. What more do you need? We’re supposed to be family here, Sam.” Dean’s jaw worked as he fought to keep his eyes on Sam, not to respond to the laugh that Kayleigh barked out, along with a soft ‘you gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me’.

“News to me.” Sam said simply, though he did glance up to Kayleigh as he spoke, and there was no way for Kayleigh to hide the smirk that tugged at her lips. It wasn’t funny - none of this was funny - but god, was she proud of Sam. It was written all over her face, and it pissed Dean off, more than a little.

“No way you’re bringing that up now.” He grit out, scrubbing a hand over his face, purposely ignoring the intrigued - fucking nosy, was what it was - look on Kayleigh’s face as she shifted to lean against the banister.

“He tossed me – and Kay, for that matter, out on our asses. And you practically locked the door behind me –”

“I seem to remember a few choice phrases coming out of your mouth that night –”

“– and I haven’t heard one word from you guys in, what, two years? That sound like family to you?”

Dean couldn’t stop himself – he let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “You know, you’re even more of a selfish, stuck-up punk than I remember.”

“Oh, am I?” It almost, almost sounded like Sam was close to losing his temper - Kayleigh reached forward, grabbing a handful of the back of his shirt as he took one step down the stairs, one step closer to Dean.

“Yeah. I mean, I know things have been rocky lately, but still... he’s Dad. And after everything he’s done for you…”

“Everything he’s done for me?” As Sam spoke, his voice a mixture of incredulity and outrage, Dean opened his mouth like he was about to interrupt, but Sam continued on. “All he’s done for me - for us -” He motioned sharply between the three of them, “is set the land speed record for fucked up childhoods!” There was no mistaking the anger in his voice now - anger that even Kayleigh seemed wary of, if the tug she gave the fistful of tee-shirt was any indication. The younger Winchester brother paused, and, though it seemed like an afterthought, took a slow step backward, up to the step he’d previously vacated.

“Don’t be overdramatic.” Dean scoffed out, determinedly avoiding the look on Kayleigh’s face. He wasn’t sure he could stand to look at it - to see the well-deserved agreement Sam’s words were getting. Even he couldn’t disagree - he really couldn’t.

“Dean,” Sam sounded exasperated now - back to the tone that reminded him so much of an impatient parent scolding a misbehaving kid. Like he was explaining all of this to a first-grader. “when I told him I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45!”

“Well, what was he supposed to do?” Dean demanded, barely resisting the urge to cross his arms over his chest defensively, settling, instead, for shoving his hands into his pockets, staring up at Kayleigh and Sam defiantly. It was two against one - not good odds in a real fight, and not good odds in an argument. Not when Sam was as headstrong as John, and Kayleigh was just as stubborn as both of their fathers combined.

“He was supposed to say ‘ghost stories are just stories’! He was supposed to say ‘don’t be afraid of the dark’!” Sam couldn’t help the disbelief that had begun to slip into his tone. It felt so, so obvious. It should have been.

“You should be.” Dean shot, any pretense of calm composure gone. “You know what’s out there in the dark. You should be freakin’ terrified.”

“I know. But still -” Sam started, only to be cut off.

“Sammy, should I be prepping for a point here anytime soon?” Dean couldn’t hide the exasperation beneath the anger in his tone - just for good measure, he cast a pointed glance down at his watch – which read well past two in the morning – and back at his younger brother.

“The point is... I never asked for it: the occult homework, and melting the silver into bullets, and the family road trips, hunting down all those freaky-ass things. I never wanted any of it, Dean.”

“You can’t pick your family, Sam.” Dean shot, unable to keep the mild resentment from his voice now.

“No, but I can live my own life. And all our gory dysfunction – I buried it, man. I swore I was done with it. For good.” The anger was fading from Sam’s tone, replaced with something Dean knew way better than he wanted to admit – a sort of exhausted resignation. He clearly knew that he wouldn’t be getting anywhere in this argument, wouldn’t be actually making any sort of point that Dean would ever agree with.

“You know as well as I do. Nothing stays buried.” Dean stared up at Sam and Kayleigh, his jaw working for a moment, before he quietly, reluctantly offered, “I can’t do this alone.”

“Yes you can,” Sam protested, his brows furrowing.

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to.” He muttered begrudgingly, not meeting Sam’s eyes this time - and certainly not meeting Kayleigh’s. He didn’t want to see the expression there. While Sam’s was reluctant, maybe a bit torn, he was sure he’d see something worse in hers - utter indifference being the best of several bad options. Hell, he was pretty sure, on a bad day - and this one was feeling pretty damn bad, so far - she may have just laughed in his face, told him where he and his Dad could shove it, and never spoken to him again, and, like it or not, it was seeming like Kayleigh and Sam were coming - or not coming, which was seeming far more likely than he wanted - as a package deal.

He was expecting cold, humorless laughter from Kayleigh, maybe a cold shoulder from Sam. He was expecting something, anything other than for Kayleigh to remain quiet and stone-faced, keeping pace as Sam came down the last step between them. “Fine.” Sam scrubbed his hands over his face, letting out a slow exhale. “What was he hunting?”

#my writing #season 1 #supernatural fanfiction #Dean Winchester x oc #eventually #Dean Winchester fanfiction #oh God how do y'all tag things #this is chaos

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scourgewins · 3 years

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Getting Along (Part 3)

(Finished at last! Hope you all enjoy this chapter! I tried to pack in as much humor, action, and suspense as I could!)

(Warnings: slight injury, fear, fighting, death mention)

Well, they didn’t die immediately, so Sammy counted that as a small win.

The inky sewage water sloshed about the musician’s lower legs. He tried not to focus on that, but it was a bit hard not to. He also tried not to think about the fact that he was inhaling toxic fumes; even while wearing the spare nose pin Jack had lent him, he could almost taste it on his tongue. How did Jack work like this? He glanced at the lyricist trudging along beside him. He seemed unbothered, though that was probably because he was geared up with both a nose pin and high, rubber boots, while Sammy was forced to slog through the muck in regular, non-water resistant shoes.

Sammy didn’t realize he’d been glaring until Jack glared back.

“What?” the lyricist said testily.

“You sure you didn’t have any extra boots?” Sammy asked for the third time.

“Positive,” Jack replied through gritted teeth.

Sammy relented and grew spitefully silent. His hand reflexively clenched and unclenched the wrench he’d grabbed before they embarked on this rescue mission. He wasn’t sure what good it would do against a massive ink monster, but it was better than going in empty-handed.

Or maybe worse, he mused, Gives you a false sense of hope.

He shook his head. No use getting pessimistic. Susie needed rescuing and that was all he needed to worry about, though the fact that this would very likely go horribly wrong and all three of them would most certainly be eaten was an irritatingly persistent thought.

Jack spoke, as if hearing Sammy’s thoughts, “We will save her, you know, despite the odds.”

“Because we have to?” Sammy asked.

“Yeah,” Jack replied, “Because we have to.”

Sammy glanced at the lyricist, who flinched at his own shadow cast by the candle in his quivering hand. He was no fighter, but neither was Sammy. Come to think of it, they really should have asked for more backup. It wasn’t like there’d be any forthcoming, though, at least not of the useful variety. The only employees that might stand a chance against the ink monster were Thomas, Lacie, and Henry, and even they might fail. Besides, Susie needed help now and hunting those three down would take up precious time they didn’t have.

So it was up to them: a lyricist spooked by his own shadow and a musician with bird-like limbs. Yeah, they were definitely going to die.

And of all the people to die beside, it had to be Jack Fain.

“What’s the plan anyway?” Sammy snapped, “Or were you just going to go in swinging and hope that would be enough?”

Jack glared at him, “Do you have a better idea?”

No. “Of course.”

“Then by all means, let’s hear it.”

Sammy realized he’d backed himself into a corner. He cleared his throat, “Well...maybe one of us could be a distraction.” Yeah, that made sense.

“Distraction?” Jack echoed dubiously.

Sammy nodded emphatically, “One of us makes lots of noise to draw the attention of the ink thing, while the other gets Susie.”

As plans went, it was a sorry excuse for one, but tactics weren’t exactly in his job description.

“So…” Jack began, “Which of us do you intend to sacrifice?”

Oh, right. “Um…”

“Because it would make sense to put forth the largest target,” Jack glanced pointedly up and down Sammy’s lanky frame, “Don’t you think?”

Sammy regretted everything, “Well...it was just a suggestion. We don’t have to go with that plan.”

“No, no, I am quite intrigued,” If he didn’t need him to rescue Susie, Sammy would have wiped that smug look off his stupid mustached face.

Not one to take things lying down all the same, Sammy opened his mouth to respond, when a quiet gurgling stopped the breath in his lungs. Slowly, he glanced up ahead. Something was moving. Squinting, he corrected that thought. Some things were moving, almost like waves in a tumultuous sea.

Both he and Jack froze in their tracks. For all their talk of rescue, their resolve was starting to wane. Okay, maybe we should have gone for backup. Susie can last a little longer, right?

As the creatures drew nearer, the musician and the lyricist could see them for what they were. Ink creatures, small but making up for their size with sheer numbers. Sammy counted twenty at least, all of them bearing down on the two hapless employees.

Jack screamed, his grip on the candle slackening until it tipped from his hand. Sammy just barely managed to push it back into his grasp before their light was extinguished. As he did so, one of the creatures lunged. Sammy leaped to dodge its groping hand. Summoning his courage, he brought his wrench down on its slippery head. When that gave it pause, the musician struck again and again, not letting up until the creature sank back into the ink.

“I did it!” Sammy cried, before he was promptly seized by a multitude of cold, inhuman hands.

Sammy’s vocal range was actually quite high, but the noise that escaped him somehow reached new levels.

“Jack!” he screeched. He couldn’t see the lyricist. Sammy was struck with the horrible thought that Jack had abandoned him here, maybe done as Sammy himself had suggested and gone on to find Susie while there was a distraction. Or, more likely, he’d turned tail and fled.

Sammy had predicted that this rescue would be the death of him, though that didn’t mean he welcomed it. He thrashed, his feet and fists striking out at anything they could connect with. He hissed as his fist glanced off the wall, feeling the skin of his knuckles break open. And still he kept struggling. There wasn’t much choice.

Just as he felt his strength ebbing, his foot jabbed into something unexpected. It was soft but solid and gave a faint “Oof!” as it stumbled back.

Sammy had never been more relieved to hear that voice.

“Jack!”

“Sammy!”

A flicker of glorious light marked where Jack stood. Sammy could barely make him out as the lyricist plunged forward. The rescue was made a little less heroic due to Jack’s squeals whenever an ink monster reached for him, but as Sammy felt a warm, thoroughly human hand grab his wrist, he couldn’t care less.

“Run!” Jack cried. Sammy didn’t need to be told twice. The two booked it back the way they came. Neither paused to check whether they were being followed. Only one thing mattered to them right now: escape.

Soon, another light grew closer. Sammy recognized Jack’s little haven in the wall where he worked. Sprinting past it, they leaped out of the sewers and made a dash for the stairs that led into the infirmary and out of the sewers.

Sammy’s relief only lasted a moment. Jack and him slewed to a halt, staring in horror.

The stairs were completely blocked. Stacks of wooden beams and heavy pipes dripping with ink had all been piled high in front. It would take ages to free themselves

“How did…” Jack paused for breath, “How did they do this?”

Sammy had no response. There was none. Ink monsters, in theory, shouldn’t have been capable of trapping them like this. Sammy’s knowledge on the subject may have been limited, but he’d have thought that much was true. He was wrong.

“What are we going to do?” Jack shrieked, “We’re trapped! We can’t get help! Susie’s still lost somewhere in there! We...We’re going to die down here!”

Sammy still didn’t know how to reply, but he was saved the attempt as he heard the gurgling noises approach.

“Quick!” He shoved Jack into a small corner directly across from the stairs. It was a poor hiding place, but so long as the ink creatures didn’t think to check over here, they’d be safe.

He heard them grow closer. Jack’s breathing had grown erratic, so Sammy clapped a hand over his mouth. Ordinarily, Jack would have shoved him away, but the lyricist just remained stone still, eyes wide and terrified. Sammy imagined he wore much the same expression.

After what seemed like hours, the gurgling began to grow fainter, until it faded altogether as the ink creatures splashed back into the sewer. Sammy didn’t move for some long moments after. Jack’s shaking fingers pulled at the hand over his mouth and Sammy at last snatched his hand away. For a while, all either of them could manage were shivering breaths.

Swallowing thickly, Jack spoke at least, “What are we going to do?” He repeated his question of before.

And again, Sammy had no answer.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #BATIM #Sammy Lawrence #Jack Fain #Writing Entity #I love writing these two.#So chaotic.

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squigglylinesdotthei · 3 years

Text

Make a Mess

Word count:1542

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader

Warnings:18+ only please, Sexual situations? (idk really how to tag this), Teasing, Premature ejac?, embarrassed!Sam

A/N:So idk what this is, or where it came from, it's not really edited, but it made me giggle while writing it so please enjoy! Drop a request, If you’re wondering who I am writing for, send an ask.

(GIF not mine, divider is mine.)

‘She literally has no idea what she does to me, does she?’ he thought as he watched Y/n work around the library. Your hair up in a messy bun, long tendrils falling around your face. Those tiny little shorts you only seemed to wear on cleaning day, and that tight gray tank top that barely hits above her belly button. He bit his lip when you bent over a table to grab some books, unknowingly putting your ass on full display for him.

‘God, if only I could just…’ He lifted his hand subtly by his side, imagining the feel of her soft skin beneath his fingers. The image of bending you over that table playing in his head, the memory of your velvet warmth wrapping around him, the way your body practically pulls him in. He feels himself grow hard in his jeans.

“Sam,” you called, god he loved when you said his name, “Baby can you come help me real quick?” you called over your shoulder. He looked up, you had a stack of books on one arm, and you were reaching up with your other trying to put a book on a high shelf. Your shirt had ridden up giving him a glimpse of the white lace bra you were wearing ‘Fuck baby, thank whoever the hell decided to drop you in my life’ he thought, his jeans now even tighter.

“Yeah,” he stood from his seat with a soft smile and walked towards you, subtly trying to adjust himself in his pants. He came up behind you and rested a hand on your waist as he reached up and effortlessly pushed the book into place. You drop back onto the flats of your feet, accidentally brushing your ass down on his already throbbing cock. Biting his lip again to hold back a moan that had threatened to escape his throat, covering it with a cough.

“Thanks,” you said as you turned and stood on your toes again to plant a small kiss on his jaw. To you, it was a small, chaste kiss of appreciation. To Sam the feeling of your lips practically on his neck, so close to that spot that makes him go weak in the knees, had his once throbbing member now aching, leaking with precum, and straining painfully against his zipper.

“No problem,” he smiled down at you before pulling away and sitting back down in his chair, trying to relive some of the pressure of his jeans. A few moments passed and Sam still couldn't stop thinking about you. Your lips on his skin, and how they’d feel wrapped around his cock, the small little whimpers you let out right before you cum.

He continued to watch you, dirty thoughts still going through his head, when you walked past again. Stopping when you noticed his empty glass and plate sitting on the table by him. You leaned over the table on the opposite side of Sam and reached across the table for his dishes. The second Sam looked up, he knew he was a goner. The angle you were leaning at gave him a direct view down your shirt, giving him an almost full view of your perfect tits.

“O-oh Fuck,” He stuttered out as he came in his pants. Like a fucking teenager, eyes screwing shut, breathing heavy as his body flushed and tensed up where he was sitting, hands shooting to his crotch as he shot up from his seat. You on the other hand had no idea what had just happened and jumped back at the sudden outburst from Sam.

“Sam, you okay?” you asked as you reached a hand towards him, still confused as to what was happening. He jumped back grabbing his laptop and held it in front of the very obvious wet spot on his pants, hoping you wouldn't notice.

“Mmhmm, yep, everything’s good, I, uh, I just remembered I left something in uh, in the bedroom,” He quipped out in a stuttered breath. Making his was to the door quickly before slipping out, leaving you standing there, confused, plate and empty glass in hand.

“Oh, o-ok,” the words die on her breath, and she makes her way to the kitchen.

Sam let out a breath as he plopped down on the couch in the dean cave and let out a breath after re-emerging from the bedroom with a new pair of jeans. He opened his laptop and stared at the screen with a small scowl on his face.

“Everything ok Sammy?” Dean asked, sitting down in his chair and passing Sam a beer. Raising an eyebrow when he shut his laptop and let out another breath and took a drink.

“It's Y/N, I guess,” he started but trailed off, what was he supposed to say, his girlfriend made him mess his pants like a prepubescent teen, when she wasn't even doing anything sexual.

“What's up? I thought you really liked her,” Dean began. But before he could continue Sam cut him off.

“NO! No, I do, almost too much,” he added the last part in a mumble. Looking down at his hands.

“You wanna elaborate buddy?” Dean leaned down and tilted his head. Sam looked at his expression, looking for some hint that Dean would make fun of him for this. Finding none, he lets out another breath.

“Well, today, she was cleaning the library, and she wasn’t even doing anything, but she just looked… so good,” he started, “but looking at her, thinking about her, I- I came dude” he finally got out, “Like in my jeans… and then I just left her standing there, confused, I don't even think she knows what happened,” he looked over at Dean, feeling his face heat up in embarrassment.

When he finally looked up at Dean, he was smirking. “Well” He started with a chuckle, “I think you should go talk to her, she probably thinks she did something wrong when you shot up and ran outta there like a bat outta hell.” he finishes his sentence and takes a drink from his own beer.

As if all the Gods and Fate herself were on Dean’s side, your voice rang out from around the corner looking for him.

“Sam? Sammy, baby?” you called out.

“In here,” He called back, trying not to sound like he was just talking about the mess he made earlier. “Everything okay?” he asked you as you finally came into view. Freshly showered and changed into a pair of black leggings and one of his old flannels.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you stepped in front of him to situate next to him on the couch, he lifted his arm, allowing you to curl into his side. “You kinda left in a bit of a hurry,” you finished, finding a sudden interest in the buttons on his shirt.

“I’m going to find snacks,” Dean hopped up and headed out the door, giving Sam a pointed look before disappearing around the corner.

“Sam?” You pressed again, leaning back and looking at him. “Is everything okay? Did i do somethi-”

“No! God no,” He fully looks at you cupping your face in his hands. “Nothing bad,” He smiled softly before planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Oh,” your voice came out small, unsure of what that exactly meant. You creased your brow and looked down at his chest fiddling with the buttons on the shirt you were wearing

Sam looked at you, Dean’s words ringing in his head still. “Y/N,” He sighed, “You are so hot,” he began, his face heating up at the conversation again. “like beyond hot sometimes,” he looked down at you, still looking down. He brought his hand to your chin and tilted your head to look up at him. “And today, with you in those tiny little shorts, and that little tank top… its like you were teasing me and you didn't even know it”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” you started but Sam cut you off again.

“Y/N,” he chuckled, he should be the one apologizing, he was the one who ran off. “Seeing you run about, accidentally flashing your bra, bending over in those shorts, it was too much and I… kinda… came in my pants.” He finished his sentence and looked at you, he could feel his neck and ears burning.

“Wait?” you looked at him, stifling a giggle, “That's why you just flew outta there?” you questioned.

“Well yeah, I was embarrassed, I had just shot my load like a hormonal teen, because my girlfriend was showing too much thigh?” He chuckled leaning back against the couch again, relaxing back tan tossing his arm over the couch.

“Well, don’t be,” you quipped, curling back into his side. You leaned up and kissed his cheek. “I kind of consider it a complement,” you added as you laid your head on his chest. His arm came down and wrapped around you causing a smile to stretch across your face.

“Who wants popcorn!” Dean bellowed out rounding the corner with two big bowls, passing one to you and Sam before settling in his own seat again and flipping on some old western movie.

#sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester x reader smut #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural smut

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psychic-war-in-the-usa · 3 years

Text

Black Water, Entry One: Omens

Dean could learn to be content. To fall in with whatever reality he was handed, and leave whatever he previously had known or done or been behind. Good for him, maybe, but Sam couldn’t. If he’d tried something, enjoyed something, it stuck to him like the worst brand of jam.

This had been great on the road, kept him turning a tidy profit on the side with nearly anything he was handed, but in prelaw, it was going to be the death of him yet. Sam hadn’t yet succumbed to the temptation of hitting up hunting contacts for trucker speed, but it was only halfway through the quarter.

YOU DON’T GET TO SEE WHAT I HAD NOT NOW NOT EVER NOBODY

The bad omens started Friday.

As he was trying on the coral ring, its high-polish surface, bright as Hammer Horror blood, suddenly went muddily dull. It may as well have been a chunk of volcanic gravel, for all its shine. Sam felt sick to his stomach, for the very same reason he’d gotten the ring in the first place. Coral dulling like that was an alarm -- someone close to you is going to die.

That night, he was curled up with Jess as best the two of them could manage, when he heard lapping in the tub, accompanied by a soft weeping sound. No Bean Sidhe (the sound was too soft), no Woman in White (couldn’t cross the barriers he’d set), not even something as wide-ranging as a death omen spirit. It was one of the Kindly Ones that had come to live with Sam and Jess as soon as they had set out the right sort of calls for them. Someone in the house? Or did “house” extend to bloodline in this case? He’d better give Dean a call. Sam lay still, not wanting to disturb the Kindly One at their washing, and eventually fell back to sleep. His dreams were unpleasant, though the usual finals fare.

There was a dead barn owl outside their door the next morning. Apparently it had hit one of the upstairs windows, slid down and crashed along the side of the house...whatever it was, Sam was late to class from getting it taken care of (Jess pled an early lab), and he couldn’t focus the rest of the day. It was time to have a talk with the dead.

Sometimes it was where the road split into three. Sometimes where it forked. Sometimes where it crossed. Whatever it was, Sam was there, cutting into study time, with one earbud in.

“Hey, Sammy.”

Sam whipped around, half expecting a finger in his ear at the sound of that voice. The dead had a wide variety of presentations, from decomp to entirely clean, to how they were buried or died…

And then there was this. This was, in spite of everything Sam knew, entirely wrong. No wonder he’d had this many omens, this was wrong, this was evil, this was --

“C’mon, Sam, you’ve got nothing to say to your big brother?”

“...Dean?”

“In the--” the ghost looked down at himself, recalculating. “Not...flesh. Yeah. So, how ya been?”

That was Dean, as soon as the topic got uncomfortable, it was back to outward friendliness. Should’ve gone into retail.

“Been alright. School’s good.”

Sam couldn’t seem to stop staring at Dean, trying to pick out what kind of ghost his brother (his brother, who was a ghost, who was DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD) was going for this evening.

“You don’t wanna see what it looks like on my back, Sam.” Dean said. “Only reason my handsome face still looks this good is cause Dad killed me in the sleet.”

Less surprising. Still surprising.

“...Dad?”

Sam ran through all the possible reasons Dad might have killed Dean, and they were pretty limited.

“Yeah, thought I was a shifter. Shot me. Didn’t miss.” Dean sounded grumpy about answering the question, as though it was something that Sam overly fixated on.

An aching pain in Sam’s hands made him realize that he’d been clenching them into fists so tight they were cramping.

“Dad didn’t bother to check?”

Dean shrugged, as if to say Would I be here if he had?

“You know.”

Sam tamped down the first mental response he had, which involved trying to shake Dean by the scruff of his precious coat. That wouldn’t work, of course, Dean wasn’t exactly corporeal at this point. Trying to convince him how awful Dad really was hadn’t worked in life, why would it work in death?

“Anyway, Sam, the reason I’m here is cause Dad’s headed to pick you up, and he killed me in Kansas, so...” Dean gave a sort of bowing nod, as if to say Figured you should know.

“Yeah.” A few more pleasantries, and Dean was gone, sunk into the shadows, and Sam’s heart was still racing.

When he got back to the dorm room, Sam burned enough offerings to supply Dean six months, did several things now redacted, and set about planning to kill his father and avenge his brother.

#My fic

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Leave No One Behind

Ch 12: Win Some, Lose Some Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Part 1

Summary: After 2 years of being at the resort Ari and the other agents are gearing up for yet another mission, but there’s a little bit of trouble in paradise for him and Hannah…

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, 18+ only)

Pairings: Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

Song for Episode: More Than A Woman- Bee Gees https://youtu.be/DtxBUp6hBaI

A/N: So there’s a little jump in time in this chapter as we fast forward towards the big dramatic end to their time at the RSDR…. Translation: Vete a la mierda = Fuck off.

Series Master List // Main Masterlist

Here in your arms I found my paradise, my only chance for happiness. And if I lose you now I think I would die. Oh say you'll always be my baby, we can make it shine. We can take forever, just a minute at a time

March 1982

Ari felt it the moment he woke up that morning. Even before stirring or cracking an eye open he knew the pressure on his left cheek was Simon. After almost two years the pooch still insisted on sleeping on the bed with them, crawling his way up between him and Hannah the moment they fell asleep and ending up on Ari's face sometime during the night. So by now, after many a mistake so to speak, Ari knew all too well what he was feeling wasn't Hannah looking for early morning cuddles but Simon's fat butt.

Ari groaned and shoved Simon away causing the dog to give a little growl and grunt of his own being as he was on the most comfortable pillow ever. Some things never change Ari thought as he stirred lightly and rubbed his eyes, unable to avoid a lazy smile when he realised what day it was.

It was the morning of his and Hannah's second anniversary and though the news about the clampdown and heavy military presence on the streets had screwed his plans to take his Firefly into Port Sudan again, like he had done the previous year, he was still going to make sure they celebrated.

He would be lying if he said he wasn't a bit pissed about his plans going awry but at the same time he had to admit the last two years had been the best years of his life and that called for any kind of celebration they could get, be that in Port Sudan or in a fucking dump. Or a dump turned into a flourishing hotel for that matter. It was crazy how they had gotten used to life at the resort two years after that afternoon when he had made the call to turn their cover hiding hole into a real hotel. Their alter egos didn't feel false anymore, and he was as much Guy now as Ari. Mind you, Hannah sometimes called him Guy or Mr. Thomas, often with a fake accent to imitate Colonel Madibo to tease him.

He gave a contented sigh at the thought of his and his Firefly’s relationship which could only be described in one word, amazing. It was as normal as it could be given the circumstances and they had both built something solid out of their feelings for each other once they had admitted to them, that was undeniably true regardless of the true nature of their stay in that slice of paradise along the Red Sea. They argued, that was equally true, and they had disagreements mostly about silly little things which was to be expected in a long-term relationship, but nothing major that they couldn’t figure out at the end of the day. Hannah had moved into his hut a little over two months after her birthday when Ari had jokingly asked her to move in with him. She had laughed but done it anyway as it was the closest they could get to living effectively together, and now here they were, two years of being together nearly 24/7, except for the mandatory week of home leave. It didn’t escape either of their notice that it was more than the time she had been married to Andy and now that he thought about it, it was probably more time than Ari had spent with Sarah in the entire 7 years they were married for that matter.

Speaking of his family life, Ari was still exchanging regular letters with Maya and on his visits to Tel Aviv he had grown even closer to his daughter than he could ever have hoped to. He was on fairly good terms with Sarah too, although that had gone through a bit of a rocky patch. The first visit home he’d had following the time Sarah had accosted Hannah, they’d had quite a heated argument when he had told his estranged wife that she was out of order to do what she had done. In a blaze of bitter anger, Sarah had accused him of all sorts, including the usual about him loving his job and his new woman more than his daughter, which had culminated in Ari snapping. He’d loudly informed his ex-wife that this was to be his last field mission, and that he was leaving it behind for Maya, not Hannah or anyone else for that matter. And the little petulant brat inside him had enjoyed the complete shock on Sarah's face as well as the mumbled apology she had given him once his words had sunk in.

All in all, everything seemed to be finally falling into place and the fact that Mama Navon had invited him for lunch during that same week’s leave, having obviously been informed by Ethan that he would be around that week, was an added bonus. He had always had a smooth relationship with Maria Navon but they both knew she was not merely his best friend's mother anymore. The fact that she had invited him to come over without Sammy or Hannah being there too spoke for itself. They’d had a heartfelt conversation over the best Sunday roast he had eaten in months, probably even years, where he had come clean about his feelings for Hannah and his intentions towards her. It had been easier than he had anticipated, he had never been a man who liked or found it easy to speak about his feelings, but for whatever reason, when it came to talk about Hannah and what he felt for her, it just flowed out smoothly and Mama Navon had read that in the soft smile and the sparkle in his honest blue eyes when he explained how they had got back together and he assured her he had no intentions of breaking her heart a second time.

No, it wasn’t a “normal” life by any stretch, but it was good. He was doing something to help people and he was doing it with the person he had always loved. They had successful mission after successful mission over the past two years and the team had assembled as perfectly as Ari could have ever envisioned when he had written those five names down before handing the piece of paper to a reluctant Ethan. Hundreds of refugees had been smuggled to Israel and it was set to be another couple of hundred more in a couple of days. That said, given the way things were going with the religious and political landscape in Sudan, he wasn’t sure how much longer they had. A few months, maybe 6 at a push. It wasn’t a particularly comforting thought, as they still had so many people to help, but in the same breath Ari knew he had to be realistic. They couldn’t do this forever, they’d always known that. All they could do was their best, and the best was to simply go as long as they could, saving as many refugees as they could in the time they had.

And when they finally did have to quit, and Ari said goodbye to a life in the field, the fact he was doing that with his Firefly by his side made a future behind a desk in Tel Aviv seem that little less frightening.

Ari was dragged back from his wandering reflections by Simon who had jumped off the bed and was now scratching at the door. He looked at the dog and groaned as he swung his legs out of bed. "All right, I get it, just don't tear the door down." he whispered to the anxious animal before he walked to the door and opened it to let the mutt out for his usual morning pee and wander round the beach, mumbling as Simon trotted past. "Tell you what pal, when we do leave I'll be waving goodbye as you fade into the distance..."

"I heard that Ari, you little shit." Hannah's sleepy voice suddenly rang through the hut's space.

"He’s the little shit Firefly." he stated somewhat childishly, turning to look at his girl as he shut the door.

"Stop being mean to him." she said as she rolled on her back, yawning, her eyes not even open yet.

"He insists on sleeping with his butt on my face. That's what I call mean." Ari protested as he slid back into bed, reaching for his girl, holding her flush against him.

Guided by Ari, Hannah rolled onto her side again, snuggling against his chest, eyes still closed as she smirked.

"That's because your face is so pretty mi Lobo."

"Yeah? Well, in that case why don’t you sleep on it?" he purred, his voice an octave lower than usual.

Hannah cracked an eye open at that and looked up at him "Something tells me if I was on your face I wouldn't be sleeping."

Ari chuckled, dropping his face closer to hers, brushing their noses together as he drawled. "You’re right Firefly. You’d be seeing stars."

"You have a very high opinion of yourself Mr Thomas." she said, smiling against his beard so that Ari could feel the vibrations of her voice as she tilted her pelvis up to meet his.

"Wanna bet?" he challenged her, his voice almost a groan.

"What’s the cost if I lose?" she asked as she brought her right hand to his face to stroke his cheek.

Ari paused for a moment. So you want to play Firefly , and then smirked as it came to him- the perfect forfeit. "You have to lead the aerobics classes, not Rachel." he stated as he wriggled his eyebrows playfully at her, knowing she would loathe the idea of having to wear that leotard Ari so loved seeing on her.

Yeah, having a leotard kink when you spent half of the day surrounded by women in swim gear was kinda odd when he thought about it, but anyway…

Hannah glared at him before blurting out. "Oh, fuck off Ari! No deal."

"So you don't want my face between your legs?" he asked innocently.

"Fuck you. I hate you." Hannah groaned.

"No you don't..." he purred as he kissed her neck "...you love me..."

And that was it. He knew it the moment Hannah closed her eyes as he gently guided her onto her back and kissed his way down her body.

"Times like this I wonder why..." she sighed out, her hand fisting in his hair which made Ari pause at her belly before peeking up at her.

"Yeah, protest all you want but you love it, you just hate losing. And you’re gonna lose Firefly."

*******

An hour later, after having breakfast with the team, Hannah was at the front of the group of guests, clad in the infamous leotard leading the class as Jake leaned on counter watching. It wasn't too long until Ari walked over and spotted him. "You, out. Now." he barked, glaring at him.

"What? Why?" Jake protested.

"Because you’re a pervert. Out." Ari ordered him as he gestured to the way out with his right thumb.

"That's so not fair." Jake tried to fight back as he straightened himself. "You never kick me out when Rachel is leading the class."

"That’s because you're never here when Rachel leads the class. Out!" he hissed, trying not to make a scene in front of the tourists. “I won’t tell you again.”

At that point Sammy walked in and came to the desk, frowning. "Where’s Rach? Why is Hannah running the aerobics?"

Ari shrugged and glared at Jake when he snorted on his way out. At that point Rachel came out of the office holding some papers.

"I’m here and apparently Rosa lost a bet." she explained to Sammy who was looking at her puzzled. It took him a second before he groaned.

"I don't wanna know do I?" he asked as he squinted his eyes at Ari.

"Nope." Ari smirked as he stole a glance at Hannah who was now stretching and bending forward.

"Come on, you two are disgusting." Sammy groaned.

"Ok, that’s it. Everyone out. You too Ari. You never come to my classes, you’re not staying for this one either." Rachel cut them off.

"I’d come to your classes…if you’d let me." Sammy pouted.

"Oh, come on. You two are disgusting." Ari repeated Sammy's words, mimicking his voice.

"Ha! You coming Sammy is exactly why she won’t let you." Jake quipped.

"Weren't you gone?" Sammy spluttered, spinning round to face him "Fuck you both."

Ari couldn't help but laugh at his friend's signature reaction. It had been well over 18 months since Sammy and Rachel had come out as being together but Ari knew he still hated everyone teasing him about it, but he couldn't help it. It was fun and, in a way, it was payback for all the time Sammy had spent holding a grudge against him and Hannah. That said, Rachel was the best influence they all could have wished for. Not only was Sammy far ess grumpy and tense all the time but he was also more willing to enjoy any treat life at the resort had to offer without thinking too much about it.

"Ok, enough, I said, out...go on." Rachel insisted, shoving Ari on the shoulder.

"Hey, remind me…who's the boss round here?" Ari raised an eyebrow at her.

"It’s me when y’all start acting like pre-schoolers or horny teenagers. And honestly that happens far too often for my liking." Rachel simply stated as she held a stapler and menacingly pointed at each one of them with it.

And with that the 3 of them made to leave, just as Max appeared from the kitchen with a snack, Simon following him hoping for food. He looked at the three of them in turn, and then at Rachel, who pointed sending him out too so with a shrug he followed suit. The 3 men passed the front row of the group and Hannah glanced in their direction and Ari grinned at her as he left. Her eyes were positively shooting daggers at him and if looks could kill he’d be dead on the spot. But he would be a corpse with a semi boner having seen her the way she was. So just as he exited the main area, he peeled off his t-shirt and started running directly into the sea without much of a word to the rest who were now staring puzzled.

"I’d swear I can see steam coming from him." Max cuckled and Jake started singing quietly.

"Gimme some hot stuff baby this evening..." as he moved his hips suggestively causing Max to start howling so loud that the sound drowned Sammy's groans.

"Watch out for the fish, man!" Max howled at Ari just before he flipped them off over his shoulders, which didn't stop Max from teasing him again "They’ll think you’re happy to see them."

"That’s gross." Sammy glared at them, who were both bent with laughter.

"What's more gross…” asked Max. "Us or the fact he's boning your sister?"

"You had to say it." Sammy groaned again. "I’m done with you two."

"I wouldn’t describe boning Red as gross." Jake, who was now wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes, quipped.

"Fucking fuck you." Sammy snapped at him.

“Ok, ok keep your pants on!” Max chuckled.

"Yeah, come on man, it’s us that aren’t getting any." Jake whined in an attempt to appease Sammy.

"Try fucking each other then." Sammy bit back, still pissed. Max looked at Jake, giving a shudder.

"I’d rather fuck the dog."

At that Jake slapped him on the back of the head "Asshole."

Sammy snorted and turned to leave, crossing paths with Simon who had spotted daddy Ari in the water and was now trotting towards the sea. "I'd stay away from Max, pooch." Sammy said seriously. Simon just looked at him, before barking and continuing on his way.

As he approached Max, he grinned “No food pal, sorry." but the dog completely ignored him and started running towards Ari who had now come out of the water and approaching them.

"That was fast.” Jake jabbed at him.

"I just needed to cool off.” Ari shrugged

"Yeah, well, I hope you last longer with Red." Jake smirked at him.

“Don’t hear her complaining." Max told Jake with a grin. “Quite the opposite actually.”

"Ok seriously, shut the fuck up." Ari growled at them as they began to snigger.With a glare he started walking towards his hut, but Ari knew them too well, especially how things were when the two of them teamed up, and he fully understood they wouldn't be willing to let him off the hook that easily so he prepared for one last quip which came from Jake.

"Still wanna hear about that bet she lost." he shouted at Ari's retreating back.

"You wish." Ari yelled back.

"I knew it. You’re my hero, man." Max howled.

Ari didn't look back at Max, he just smirked to himself. Of course Max would get it, he always did. "Yup." he shouted instead, popping the p, as he passed a group of female tourists on the way.

"Ladies." he greeted them with his signature cocky but friendly smile, which made them giggle and start whispering to each other as they passed him by.

"Seriously, how does he do it?" Jake gasped as they watched the group of women all pause to watch Ari as he walked up the sand.

"Animal magnetism." Max shrugged. "And I don't mean the fact he has Simon running at his heels."

*****

After a refreshing shower, more refreshing than he actually needed as he had changed his usual morning run for other activities that morning, Ari changed into a pair of fresh shorts and a light blue shirt. He was just about to leave hut as Hannah arrived back wearing that damned leotard, causing him to flash his signature wicked smirk at her.

"Don't even think about it. I'm pissed at you, Levinson." she warned him as she passed him by, trying her best not to surrender to that damned smirk of his.

"Oh, I'm thinking IT firefly." Ari laughed as he smacked her butt, causing her to yelp in surprise, and leaving her to shower and change clothes. He went to the main building to sort the arrangements for the call to Ethan later in the day about the last details on the mission and then just spent some time being Guy Thomas. The batch of tourist currently at the resort were leaving the day after next so he chatted with them for a while, ensuring they had enjoyed their stay and would recommend the resort to their family and friends back home. Satisfied real guests were as important as the ones whose number hung from hooks on the board at the reception desk as without them, their cover would be blown.

He was still chatting to the guests when Hannah came into the main dining area, her eyes roaming the room for him and she rolled her eyes when she spotted him being charming Guy, smiling softly as the ladies fawned all around him reminding her of herself when she was a teenager with a crush on her older brother's best friend.

Cliché much.

But those memories weren't the only ones that flashed across her mind. She had been feeling quite homesick lately but as she stood there watching Ari, she began to feel especially down. So, she took a dep breath and decided that baking her Mama’s banana and date loaf, which had been at the back of her mind ever since she had spotted some days before that Chef Aziz had a basket of fresh dates, was just the ticket to cheer herself up.

Of course, Ari had also spotted Hannah the moment she had entered the room, how could he not? But he hadn't noticed her leave and, after giving the ladies some recommendations as to what to buy in the souk at Port Sudan the following day, he turned around looking for her but she was nowhere to be seen. He wandered off to go find her bumping into Rachel in the reception area who told him she had seen Hannah last heading to the kitchen, which was exactly where Ari found her.

"You ok?" he asked softly from the kitchen's threshold.

Hannah raised her head and turned to look at him for an instant before her eyes were on the dough she was working on again. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"You just disappeared." he drawled, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned on the doorframe.

Hannah shrugged. "I have more important things to say than watch you flirt, Mr Thomas."

"I wasn’t flirting..." Ari protested immediately and she once more looked at him. "Ok, maybe I was. A little."

"Satisfied guests, uh?" she teased.

"Well, need to keep the tourists happy, Han..." he conceded playfully.

"So I assume they’re happy enough and that’s why you’re here instead of with them now?"

She was smiling though he couldn't see it. All he could see was the way her ass cheeks were contracting every time she exerted force on the dough.

"That and the fact I wondered where you'd gotten to." he managed to say, after swallowing, his eyes moving back up her body.

"You missed me Mr Thomas? Who’d have thought?" she teased once more.

Ari rolled his eyes and approached her from behind. "Stop being a brat Firefly."

"I’m not being a brat, Ari and stop rolling your eyes at me." she scoffed, her tone hardened this time. "I can't see you but I know you just did."

Ari stopped behind her and cocked his head to one side and frowned. Despite her casual tone she wasn’t being as playful as normal "Han...what's wrong? You're not really pissed at me for talking to those girls, are you? Because I'm not interested..."

She sighed. "I know, Ari. It’s just... not today."

Now he was really puzzled. "Hey, come on Firefly, talk to me...what is it?" He asked, as his hands landed cautiously on her hips.

"Nothing really, it’s just I’m a bit homesick today." She said, not wanting to react to Ari's touch.

Ari sighed noticing the stiffness of her body and the sadness in her voice "Oh, baby come here." he said, gripping her hips and turning her around to hug her. And as he wrapped his arms around her back, his chin rubbing against the top of her head, he noticed the ingredients on the side for the first time and he let out a groan "You making... no... you're not?"

Hannah grinned and looked up at him. "I am."

"That's my favourite thing your mama makes" he groaned.

"I know baby." she gazed at his eyes, in the hope that he realised why he was baking that particular treat.

"So...are you making it because you're homesick or because it's our 2 year anniversary?" he asked, winking an eye at her.

She beamed at him, her grin now reaching her eyes. "You remembered?"

"Of course I did!" he said, holding her tighter, before pausing. "Wait...did you think I'd forgotten?"

Hannah felt her cheeks went red with embarrassment . "Yeah, I did."

"Han..." Ari started as he shook his head, chuckling. "2 years ago we got our second chance. Like I'd ever forget that."

She bit her lip. "I’m sorry it’s just you never mentioned us going to Port Sudan like last year and I assumed..."

"Baby, we can't. I wanted to take you, I really did but, with the talk of stuff going on in the cities, the whole clamp down and Sharia law that’s coming in, well, we're not married so..." he shook his head again sadly. "It's not possible or even worth the risk. You understand that?"

“No, I know. You’re right." he sighed. "God, I feel stupid now."

He chuckled as he swayed her in his arms. "That doesn't mean I haven't got anything planned."

She grinned at him, playing with the upper buttons of his shirt. "Do you have something planned?"

"Well I could tell you...but then I'd have to kill you." he drawled.

"Rude Levinson." she scoffed, pushing his chest as she turned around back to her baking station. "For that you’re not getting a single ounce of this loaf I’m making."

Ari laughed heartily, wrapping his arms round her from behind again and kissing her neck. "Don't be like that firefly."

"Like what? You don’t wanna tell me what you’re planning but I’m more than happy to tell you what I am planning. Which is not letting you eat any of this fucking delicious banana and date loaf."

He chuckled again. "You really want me to spoil the surprise honey?” Hannah smiled and this time he could see her doing it from the corner of his eye. "No. I’m just teasing you."

"What else is new?" he said as he pushed his groin against her from behind, his lips soft on her neck.

"Stop teasing me Lobo or you won’t get any and now I’m not talking about the loaf." she threatened, raising the rolling pin at him.

"Ok, ok." he chuckled and he kissed her cheek again. "You win." And at that she turned to look at him.

"What else is new?" she asked as she winked at him.

"Shall I remind you of the leotard you were sporting just this morning?" he raised an eyebrow at her and Hannah gasped, narrowing her eyes.

"Vete a la mierda." she grumbled and Ari snorted.

"Ok, I don’t know what that means but I’m assuming it’s not I love you Ari, you’re the love of my life."

"You assume correctly, Lobo."

"All right" he said, raising his hands up. "I surrender. I’m gonna go..." and he started walking backwards "...talk with some..." now a side smile on his face "...lady tourists. Keep them satisfied you know."

Hannah smirked. "You do that. Maybe I'll go talk to that group of boys that Jake took out diving before. They seemed nice."

Instead of falling for her trap Ari merely shrugged. "Talk to them as much as you want as long as you remember you’re mine." And with that he cocked an eyebrow, giving her a stern look and turned to leave, smug smirk on his face, his hand running through his hair.

Bastard, Hannah thought as she resumed her work.

**** Later that day, after having called HQ to fill Ethan in on the last details of the upcoming mission and a bit of an argument about the change in rendez-vous point at such short notice, Ari was sat outside in the sun with Rachel and Sammy. He was trying to relax, he was always on edge the days before a mission and having to call Ethan was always a task he wasn't overly fond of. Not because of the man, Ari had learnt how to deal with him over the years the same way Ethan had learnt how to put up with Ari's attitude which caused him the biggest migraines a boss could ever endure. The thing that stressed Ari the most about those calls was the fact that he had to sneak from the tourists and staff, away from prying ears and hope communication was cooperating. And that day in particular the resort was overflowing with people everywhere he went so the office was out of the question and the huts didn't seen secluded enough to him, so he had had no option but to drive a few miles into the desert and set the radio in the back of the jeep connecting it to the car's aerial.

Thankfully it had worked and an hour or so later he was back and had settled in the same spot he was in now, drinking a beer and trying to ease his mind as he had another secret mission to perform in a few hours, one that got him equally anxious but in a different way. He looked at Sammy and Rachel and saw Sammy's arm resting around her shoulders, gently rubbing her arm. It was good to see them like that for once. Unlike him and Hannah, Rachel and Sammy didn't feel very comfortable with PDA and they kept it to a minimum which had meant it was only after months of being together that Max and Jake had found out there was another couple within the resort management team.

Ari was so lost in his thoughts that he inadvertently gave out a big sigh earning an amused look from Rachel.

"I take it you’re still planning on not joining us for dinner tonight?" she asked.

Sammy frowned. "What? Where you going?"

"I’m taking Hannah for a picnic. It’s a surprise so don’t tell her Sammy." Ari warned his friend, pointing at him with his beer bottle.

Sammy rolled his eyes. "Soppy bastard."

"Leave him alone, he wants to celebrate properly." Rachel defended Ari.

"You’re celebrating something?" Sammy asked again, puzzled. It wasn't anyone's birthday, not that he recalled.

"You could say that." Ari grinned at him.

Sammy frowned, not following his friend, and Rachel chuckled. "It's two years today since he and Hannah got back together."

At that Sammy opened his eyes wide. "Already?"

Ari nodded. "Time flies, huh?"

"Yeah..." Sammy agreed, nodding absentmindedly. "Feels like only yesterday I punched you in your perfect teeth."

"You’re still calling that a punch?" Ari snorted.

"Don’t make me do it again you smug bastard."

"Wouldn’t dream of it pal." Ari conceded, raising his hands in mock surrender.

Sammy smiled at him. "I guess congratulations are in order then."

Ari smirked wickedly, making Rachel raise an eyebrow at him, before speaking. "Save it for the proposal..."

And there it was, Rachel thought. He had got Sammy again, he always did, who was now choking on his drink as Ari bursted out laughing.

"You’re a shit Levinson." Sammy growled, wiping the spilled drink off his chin.

"Funnily enough that's exactly what your sister says too." Ari smirked again, raising his beer in a mock toast before gulping it down and standing up, heading back to his hut.

Hannah was in the shower after having been on a dive later that afternoon with Jake and Max, so Ari quickly changed and when she emerged she smiled at him, taking in his navy shorts and casually smart green button down.

“Hey.” She took the kiss he offered and he pulled back, smiling.

“So, tonight we’re having a night ‘out’ at the resort” he told her and she frowned, her expression puzzled. But he didn’t go into any more detail. “Just be ready in half an hour.”

With that he disappeared off to set up his surprise. With a little help from Aziz, who’d packed the food for him, and Rachel who’d managed to get him everything else he wanted, he quickly laid everything out and headed back to find Hannah was putting the last touches to her hair, pulling it back into a loose braid. She was dressed in a pale blue sun-dress which pulled in at the waist, falling to her knees, thin spaghetti straps resting on her sun-kissed skin.

“You look beautiful.” He smiled as she stood up.

“Thanks.” She said, that adorable flush evident in her cheek and he held out his hand.

“Come on Firefly.”

He led her to their cave but as they approached he tugged her in front of him, his hands gently moving to cover her eyes.

“Ari!” she protested as he chuckled, walking them forward

“Just humour me okay?” he whispered, his lips brushing her cheek. Once she was positioned in the mouth of the cave he moved his hands and Hannah blinked, looking around. On the floor of the cave was a rattan blanket, which held a picnic hamper in the middle, and various candles were lit as they nestled in the many little nooks and crannies of the rock that formed their cave. Hannah felt the tears in her eyes at the thoughtfulness and she turned to look at Ari.

“Ari..” she whispered and he blinked before he realised they were happy tears.

“I just wanted to do something special.” He shrugged, “seeing as we couldn’t go anywhere.”

“It’s perfect.” She assured him, standing on her toes to give him a soft kiss.

They settled down next to each other, Hannah tucking her legs underneath her as Ari poured her a glass of wine and the two of them began unpacking their food. Before long they were tucking in with gusto, laughing and joking as they always did, the light starting to fade outside as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, Simon led at the mouth of the cave, napping. It was quiet, romantic, and they could have been anywhere as they sat and simply enjoyed being with one another as the night passed them by.

“Shit.” Ari sighed as he tipped the last of the wine into Hannah’s glass “We drank it all.”

“You only bought 2 bottles?” Hannah teased and gave her a look as she giggled.

“I’m sorry.” He said sarcastically causing her to laugh.

“Don’t pout Mi Lobo.” She set her glass down and shuffled over to him

“Ya know, my feelings are pretty hurt.” He muttered as she pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah?” she asked, her lips now making their way down to his jaw line.

“Yup…” he sighed, eyes closing as she brushed over the whiskers on his face, his breath hitching as she reached his neck.

“Feel better now?”

“Not quite…”

“How about now?” Hannah asked, her teeth grazing his ear lobe.

“Gettin’ there.” Ari mumbled, turning his head, his mouth finding hers. The kiss was deep, their tongues sliding effortlessly together as Hannah let out a little whimper, a noise Ari would never, ever tire of hearing.

Pulling away he ran his nose up her throat to her chin, nudging her head back a little and Hannah’s weight fell backwards onto her arms, her palms burying into the cool sand. His lips gently placed a warm, open mouthed kiss onto her neck, causing her to shiver softly as his right hand traced up her side, over the top of. With a fluid movement he slid the strap down, and his head dipped, mouth sucking gently at her delicate collar bone. Hannah gave a soft sigh and Ari moved, his arms circling her waist as he pulled her into his lap, her knees falling either side of his thighs as his hands slid up to cup her face. He looked at her for a moment, her blue eyes shining in the reflection of the moonlight on the ocean outside.

“God, I love you.” He whispered, his eyes closing as her fingers tangled in his beard, her lips ghosting over his.

“I love you too Mi Lobo…”

And that was it, those 2 fucking words that she’d spoken so many damned times over the past two years sparked something primal, animalistic in him and his hands moved her face back to his as he kissed her hard.

Hannah palmed her hands against his chest before her fingers carefully began popping the buttons of his shirt. As her fingers brushed his skin as she worked it open, the sensation of her touch caused goosebumps to bubble over his entire body, and as usual, her infectious smile brought forth a pulsating desire from deep within him that was impossible to ignore. Once his shirt was undone she reached up and pushed it down over his broad shoulders and Ari freed his arms, tossing it off to the side somewhere as Hannah’s mouth met his once more in a furious kiss. Her tongue was in his mouth, seeking his and he felt her teeth gently nibbling at his bottom lip. At that, Ari gave a growl and he pulled away, dropping his head to the spot on her neck once more, hands moving from her hips to pull her dress over her head. With an easy snap of his fingers, he undid the clasp of her bra and she pulled it off, dropping it besides them. Ari took a moment to look at her chest, his hands sliding up her ribcage, his eyes flicking back to hers so he could watch her response as he began to play with her in a way he knew she loved. Over and over he gently kneaded and palmed her sensitive flesh, thumbs skating her nipples before he softly tweaked them both, teasing them to soft peaks as he dropped his head, his mouth engulfing her right bud. He sucked and teased with his tongue before gently grazing with his teeth all the while feeling her grinding down on him, her hands tangling in his hair.

“Shit…” she groaned, nails biting into his scalp as he pushed upwards, the bulge in the front of his shorts grinding up against her spot through her now soaked panties, mouth and hands still teasing at her breasts. “Ari…”

“What do you want baby girl?” he whispered against her skin as his mouth moved upwards, beard scratching, teeth nipping her neck as she continued making those noises that he could listen to all damned day. Her hands let go of his hair as she fumbled to unbutton his shorts and he moved slightly so that she could pull them down a little over his hips. Her warm palm wrapped around now aching cock and pulled it free from his underwear and Ari gave a slight hiss through his teeth, slipping his hands under the hem of her dress. His large hands cupped her ass cheeks, fingers digging into the underneath just where the curve of her globes met her thighs and he pulled her tight against him. The grip of her hand around his dick drew a groan from his mouth and he swallowed, his voice raspy as he spoke again. “Tell me baby…” he instructed and then when she answered, her words combined with her hand tightening around his cock almost made him shoot his load there and then

“Fuck me Ari…”

With a growl, Ari moved his hands, pulling her panties aside as she shiftedd herself, her hand guiding him towards her. Lining him up, she lowered herself down, giving a long, drawn out whimper of delight as she felt him fill her.

“Shit, Han…” Ari groaned, his hands on her hips as he bucked upwards, feeling her hot, warmth tighten around him. “God you feel so good baby…”

At his dirty talk Hannah moaned again, her hands moving up to rest on his shoulders and without warning Ari thrust his hips up in a dirty grind, pushing himself into her as deep as he possibly could.

“Fuck!” she cried out, her nails digging into his skin, one hand moving to tangle into his hair at the back and she gave a sharp tug, pulling his head back.

The bite of pain made his cock twitch even more, but the noise he made was swallowed as her lips crashed onto his, and it was all too much. He needed release. Ari began to matching her motions, the wet sound of his balls slapping against her ass echoed off the rough, rocky walls of their hidden little hideout and his lips moved from hers to her jaw, nipping at her skin.

“You've had me hard for you all day, Firefly…” he panted and Hannah gave a soft wail at his words, “Such a fuckin’ tease…”

His movements picked up, becoming faster as he rutted upwards into her again and again, and she began to move herself, her hips rocking forward and back furiously as she ground her clit against his pubic bone, her eyes locked on his as she moved. Ari’s fingers dug into the skin just above the waist band of her panties, nails biting her delicate hips as she worked herself into an almost frantic pace, and Ari knew he wasn’t gonna last much longer.

“Come for me baby…” he said, his mouth back on her neck “Come on, good girl…”

At his words, Hannah was a complete goner, powerless to stop the pleasure that was lancing through her very core. She came, with a surge that shook her entire body, her head falling back as she gasped, mouth open, a broken, trembling cry escaping her as she pumped her hips wantonly against his crotch, riding the wave of her orgasm bucking once... twice... before she collapsed against his chest going completely limp, breathing hard. Ari’s own hips were still pumping upwards as he raced towards his own end, Hannah completely spent on his laps before he felt that coil in his belly and groin snap and with a loud groan, he came, the intensity shocking him slightly as he bit down on her shoulder, his hips stopping and he collapsed backwards, crashing onto the sand behind him, Hannah clutched to his chest.

Time just stopped for them both, Ari’s hands gently caressing her back, his eyes closed as he pressed a kiss to Hannah’s forehead as they both lay, breathing deeply, waiting for the earth to right itself. Ari had no idea if it was 1 minute or 5, but eventually he felt Hannah stir a she snuggled further into his chest.

“God, Ari, that…that was incredible.” She croaked. "Yeah....." was all he could manage in return.

Part 2

#leave no one behind #ari levinson #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x ofc #ari levinson fanfiction #red sea diving resort

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crashdevlin · 4 years

Text

Centerfold 5- Waiting For You

Centerfold Masterlist

Author’s Note: Written for Meghan who requested some fluffy A/B/O smut and then I came up with an idea and ran with it. Smut will start after the plot is established. Also, this is gonna go toward my @spnabobingo squares. This chapter fills my Motor Oil/Cut Grass/Gunpowder square and is rated T for Teen.

Summary: Dean heads to Vegas with Sam to crash the AVN Awards in the hopes of meeting up with Taffy Rose.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Reader

Word count: 2069

Story Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, pornography, mentions of multiple partners, Sam being a bit of a creeper asshole

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

Dean was sure it was a bad idea. There were a thousand ways it could go bad, taking his soulless little brother on a trip to Vegas. But Lisa was pretty much done with him, hadn't answered the phone since he was a vampire, Sam's loss of soul was stressing him out, and he needed a break. The fact that the AVN Awards were going to be taking place the next day was a coincidence...mostly.

"So, you're taking your soulless brother to Vegas to chase down some porn star?" Sam asked, amused. "I can think of a dozen reasons why this would be a bad idea."

Dean sighed. "Yeah. Well, we're going because Vegas is tradition, soul or no soul, and Taffy isn't just 'some porn star'. Jenna Jameson is 'some porn star'. Lisa Ann is 'some porn star'. Taffy Rose is the woman of my dreams and the future mother of my children, okay? She just doesn't know it yet. When I find her and remind her who I am, she's gonna be mine."

"Yeah. 'Cause all the porn stars wanna settle down and have a bunch of pups with some hunter they knew for a week of high school in 1996."

"'95, Sammy, and she's gonna remember me. No way I'm the only one who remembers that." Dean sighed heavily and shook his head. "I mean, I was her first! No way she forgot about me."

Sam just shrugged and pulled out his phone to distract himself. Porn awards could be fun. He could find some willing woman to sink into. It'd been a few days since he got laid, he was itching for some relief. Some tiny thing with giant fake tits would be perfect. And if there was an entire category of omega actors, maybe he could find a nice omega to fuck.

Dean got two rooms when they got the motel. He was confident he wouldn't want anything to do with whatever Sam picked up at the AVN Awards and he didn't want Sam interrupting when he managed to get Taffy, Y/n, back to his room.

Dean had trouble choosing what to wear. Plaid seemed too hunter, too redneck, too Kansas to approach a Cali-based porn star at an awards show. His FBI suits and his old Homeland Security suit both seemed to strangle him with formality. The Pink Floyd concert tee was too casual. All of his tees were. It took a while but eventually he settled on his best jeans, the ones that made his ass look awesome, and his light grey Henley. Nothing that said he was trying too hard, but also not something that made him look like a lumberjack sans the beard.

Sam was already in the Impala by the time Dean left his room. Sam was in a dark red v-neck shirt and jeans and had obviously not agonized over his wardrobe. "Took you long enough, Dean. What, were you rubbing one out so you'd last longer than five seconds when you meet up with her?"

"No!" Dean exclaimed, but he couldn't help but think that was a missed opportunity. "Shut up. Let's go."

They talked their way in, it was second nature to lie to get into places they weren’t supposed to be, and the guard really had no problem believing that the two imposing alphas were bodyguards for some of the actors.

“All right. Let’s split up. If you find Taffy, call me...then, ya know...have at it,” Dean said, gesturing to the right side of the theater before taking off to the left.

Sam rolled his eyes and walked away into the theater. There were hundreds of attractive actors mulling around and they were all wearing various revealing, shiny outfits...all of whom Sam would be willing to nail. He stopped a particularly busty redhead and smiled. “Have you seen Taffy Rose? I’m supposed to deliver a message.”

The redhead looked him up and down like she wanted to eat him and licked her lips. “Taffy’s on the mezzanine with the other omegas. They won’t let an alpha through the door. I could go get her for you,” she offered, her voice seductive.

“That would be great, actually.” Sam let his eyes run down her body. “But don’t stray too far.”

She bit her lip as she walked away on six inch high heels. She was hot as fuck, her dress tight and riding up as she walked. Sam could definitely see her wrapped around his cock. She would be fun to play with. She would be more than satisfying. She would be-

Sam’s jaw dropped a little as a small woman in a light pink crossover dress with a pink plaid skirt walked out. She had nude colored Mary Jane shoes on, natural tits...and looked so completely out of place surrounded by half-dressed, silicone-filled women that it was like a beacon of light shined on her. Sam wanted her. Dean would forgive him for having a little fun before he delivered her to him, right? And if not, Sam didn’t care.

“Hi, Sunny said you had a message for me?” she said, approaching him. Sam loved the size difference between them. Even in heels, he eclipsed her.

“Taffy, right?” Sam asked, stepping closer. He’d seen the pictures, he knew exactly who she was, but he wanted to talk to her longer, get a bit more time to scent her. She was something floral and pretty.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

Sam stepped closer again and she cleared her throat. “You don’t remember me. You shouldn’t. I was, what, twelve when we met.”

“We’ve met?” she squeaked. She swallowed and took a step back. Sam could smell arousal leaking into her scent and he smirked. She was so easy. Dripping slick already. This is what an omega gets for staying unmated so long.

“Yeah. Back in Olympia. Seems like a million years ago, Y/n.” Sam stepped closer again and Y/n gasped as she backed away and her back hit the wall behind her. “Neither of us were presented back then. I didn’t realize how good you smell.”

“S-sorry, I...who are you?”

“Always knew you were pretty, though.”

She took a deep breath and put her hand on his chest, lightly pushing him away. “I don’t recognize you and you’re making me uncomfortable so if you don’t back up and say what you came to say, I’m gonna have to-”

“Sam, you soulless bastard, get away from her!” Sam rolled his eyes at his brother’s voice and stepped back as Dean ran up. “I told you to call me if you found her, dammit!”

Sam shrugged. “She’s hot. Had to try it.”

“Go...away,” Dean growled and Y/n shivered. He watched his brother’s large frame disappear into the crowd before he turned to the omega, his omega. “Taffy, sorry about him. He’s...got some issues right now. Mental...issues. Um...I…” His words faltered as he looked into her eyes. She was right there in front of him. “Y/n,” he whispered and she gasped.

She took a deep breath and stepped close. “Dean?”

“You remember,” he whispered, taking his own deep breath of her floral scent. There was a tinge of arousal to it and he almost whimpered.

“Of course I remember. I’ve been waiting to smell that special blend of motor oil and fresh cut grass and…” She leaned up and groaned as she sniffed at his neck. “...burning gunpowder. I’ve been waiting for you for half my life.”

“That’s what I smell like to you?” Dean asked, smiling. “And you know what burning gunpowder smells like?”

She licked her lips and let out a small giggle. “I got shot...in one of my films. They shot a blank at me, I recognized the smell immediately...so I started to hang out at the range every once in a while.”

He smiled proudly. His omega liked guns. Awesome. “I saw you in last August’s Playboy. I never thought I’d see you again and...there you were in the centerfold, lookin’ so much hotter than you did in high school. But somehow just the same. You looked, you look amazing. So beautiful and...somehow innocent.”

“I’m very good at that. It’s my signature look.”

“I don’t know how you pull it off, buck naked, but you do.”

“So...um...I…” She looked away, trying to clear her mind. “So...You saw my Playboy and had to come find me?”

Dean licked his lips and stepped closer. He wanted to touch her, grab her waist and pull her against his body, but he didn’t. Not until she was ready. “I saw your Playboy and I went home and watched every clip of every video I could find with your name. ‘Taffy Rose’, huh?”

“Well, I really like pink. Taffy, rose, they’re shades of pink.”

“I remember. I see you still favor pink clothes,” he said, gesturing at her dress. “It’s a cute dress.”

“It’d look better on your floor?” she guessed, looking up into his eyes. His cheeks burned at her words. “I’m sure it would. Your freckles still pop when you blush.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, some things never change.”

“So, your omega didn’t mind you coming to Vegas to see me?” she asked, biting her bottom lip.

“No omega. No wife, no girlfriend. You?”

She giggled, setting her hand on his shoulder. “No wife or girlfriend for me either.”

“Seriously, Taffy.” His voice went soft. “You got somebody waitin’ at home for you?”

“Yeah.” She smiled as his stomach dropped, and ran her hand up his shoulder to the back of his neck. “I have a husky dog named Wolf. Real original, I know, but she was a rescue...already named.” She pulled his head down and bumped her nose against his. “No husband, no boyfriend...no alpha.” He gasped as she kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’ve been waiting for you, Dean.”

His head went a little dizzy at her words. “Y/n.”

“Have you been waiting for me?” she whispered into his ear.

“Betas only, baby. Never had a ‘mega. Only ever wanted you,” he answered.

She smiled bright as she pulled back and looked into his eyes again. “I’ve only ever really wanted you, too. I think about you all the time, Dean. Never thought…” She looked soft and innocent as she sighed. “I’m so happy you found me.”

“Me, too.”

“I might be getting an award, so I...I can’t leave yet, but...after the show’s over...why don’t you come back to my hotel with me?” He was just about to say ‘God yes’ when she finished with, “I can show you all the things I’ve learned over the past fifteen years.” His jaw dropped, words frozen in his throat. All he could do was nod. “Good. I’ve been dreaming of this since high school. Put my number in your phone. You won’t be allowed on the mezzanine with me, so I’ll have to find you after.”

Dean pulled out his phone and entered her number as she rattled it off, immediately sending her a text so that she had his number, too. She shined as she looked down at her phone screen to see the text ‘Hey mega <3’. “God, you’re cute.” She giggled and wrapped her arm around his neck again, pulling him down for a quick kiss.

What should have been a quick kiss, anyway, because he couldn’t let her go once he had her on his lips. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. She tasted just like he remembered. Her hands buried in his hair as he pushed her against the wall and licked at her tongue. She moaned as his hands moved down her back to grasp at her ass. He was panting when he pulled back. “Sorry. I...suddenly, I’m sixteen with no control of myself again.”

She giggled that laugh that he loved with all of his heart and patted his cheek. “Well, I just can’t wait to see you really lose control, Dean,” she said before spinning away from him and the wall, her skirt twirling as she headed back toward the mezzanine.

Dean sighed and watched her until she disappeared from his sight. She was so much better than he remembered. She was perfect. She was his.

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

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @sunnyroadtrips @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you @dayasvalkyrie Hunter Tags - @atc74 @sandlee44 @spnbaby-67 @kalesrebellion @tumbler-tidbits @hoboal87 @stoneyggirl @kbl1313 @cookiechipdough @mrswhozeewhatsis @winchesterxfamilybusiness @holylulusworld @pretty-fortune @screechingartisancashbailiff @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits @imperiusimpala @supernaturalenchanted Gaga For Green Eyes Tags- @typicalweirdbookworm @deanmonandnegansbitch @jadesupernatural @stoneyggirl @4fareader @squirrelnotsam @lyarr24 @akshi8278 @pretty-fortune @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits

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#cassie writes stuff #spn fanfic #reader-insert #a/b/o dynamics #alpha!dean #alpha!sam #omega!reader #pornstar!reader #dean x reader #SOULLESS SAM

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foolscapper · 4 years

Note

Spn prompt! I have a HUGE love of incoherent/delirious Sam and panicking/worried Dean, whether it's head injury, curse, blood loss, or dangerously high fever 👉👈

Your wish is my command! It ended up... longer than anticipated... but here you are! Unbeta’d, we die like men. This is weechesters and involves a kid being hurt, so if that’s something that’d bother anyone, feel free to skip over this!

(Posted to Archiveofourown as well.)

Sylvester Sharpe turned from the beat up Ford truck he'd parked on the corner of A Street and Cotton Circle after a voice coolly demanded his attention. The boy that met his critical stare was about half his age — youthful, maybe somewhere between sixteen or eighteen: dirty-blonde hair; strange old necklace; a charcoal black Led Zeppelin T-shirt, darker with sweat around a neckline littered with holes that implied he really loved that goddam shirt. Sylvester furrowed his brow, put out his cigarette on the lip of a truck bed full of trash and beer bottles and stolen shit he'd been selling to good buddies who know a thing or two about loose lips getting busted, and squinted at the boy like he were pea-sized.

"What?" Sylvester said, the clipped sound one of impatience.

"I said," the freckled boy replied back, terse, "Do they call you 'Sly' around here?"

Sylvester snorted, loose-limbed and careless and ready to move on to the nearest liquor store to get a new pack of Marlboros. He turned toward his open truck door to move along. He said, "Yeah, I'm Sly."

The kid lunged, and they were on ground in a few seconds flat.

An old man in an ivy cap walking his dog watched as the teenager started to beat the ever-loving shit out of him.

**************** **************** **************** ****************

You don't mess around when it comes to concussions. Concussions are traumatic brain injuries — sometimes it doesn't feel like that, because you think "oh, well, they just shook some screws loose; they just have some stars circling around their head, and they'll be fine in a few hours". But real life ain't cartoons.

If there's one thing you could give their old man credit for, it was that he never undervalued a trip to the ER when it came to the safekeeping of his son's brains. Dean had a concussion before, himself. Just before he turned fifteen; got thrown into a wall by a ghost before returning back to their hotel room and vomiting his guts out in a toilet not even worth pissing in. Sam had been about eleven, casting the kindest and most worried shadow over the hunch of Dean's back, rubbing his shoulders and nervously parroting Dad about how he absolutely shouldn't go to sleep, no matter how much he slurred he wanted to.

Dad looked up the nearest ER and drove him down.

The nurses had to stand there with their mouths in a thin, concerned line while Dean rambled on and on about how he'd caught a Chupacabra in a giant net once in Texas and ganked a vampire last week in Pasadena. And, of course, Dean also asked where Sam was — over and over and over and over — until Sam had to lean forward in his waiting room chair and wave at him, a constant reminder that he hasn't been left behind anywhere. Sam had tired lines around his mouth, then, and worry in his eyes that had been overcast with exhaustion. That's one of the few things Dean could remember about that night. Just thinking, 'Man, Sammy, why you look so tired?'

If he hadn't been so fucking concussed, the answer'd be obvious.

**************** **************** **************** ****************

Stuck in some half-dead town in Nevada in the summer of '95, Dean was more than a little restless; Dad had left them to go wipe a vampire nest a few small towns south, and apparently Dean hadn't been "big britches" enough to handle a hunt of that scope yet. Which was total horseshit, because he was sixteen; he could outdrink any old chump at the bar and he'd gotten a kill list so long that it rivaled a suburban mom's grocery list.

They settled into an apartment with no furniture save for a two-seated couch and some mattresses — and exactly two months worth of rent covered with no plans to renew — but at least it also had a television with a few channels, too. Sweating from the heat, he traded the urge to hunt with the privilege of kicking up his feet and watching The People's Court. School had ended an hour or so before, but Sammy'd stayed behind for some extracurricular club he'd been practically vibrating to join, and Dean had no plans to shoot it down while Dad wasn't around to comment on it.

There was a small struggle at the front door to unlock it, and Dean listened with a quirked eyebrow.

"You forget how human hands work, Stuart Little?"

The door creaked open a fraction in response, and then stayed that way for a moment. Through the sliver of open air, Dean heard a small sob that made his stomach fall through the couch, and as he swung himself up onto his feet Sam walked through the door and nearly right into him — it was easy to see why, because his right eye was completely swollen shut, purpled and shiny. Dry blood clung under his nose and matted one side of his head, and he swayed on his feet when Dean's hands jolted out to grab his shoulders. The kid's backpack was nowhere to be seen. Probably dropped and abandoned.

"Sam. Sammy." His hand reached to touch, and he found the bloody, clumped hair hid a lump the size of a golf ball, split and oozing. The kid shuddered with pain, and tears continued to leak down one side of his face. The fear mutates and splits off, leaving a new, fresh wave of emotion: fury. This isn't a monster. These aren't claw marks or some bruise caused by a furious ghost. Some punk-ass kids must have jumped him at the school and left him like this. And his brother walked all the way back here like that. He would even bet they aren't Sam's age. Sam wouldn't have let them do this without a hell of a fight.

He could barely stop the snarl of his lips, the cold calmness. "... Sam, who did this?"

"I don't..." Sam licked his lips, looking around like he wasn't sure where he was. Garbled words took time to form with a tied tongue. Dean could bet if he peeled the other eye open, the pupils would be mismatched in size. "I don't remember. I'm... I don't know. Dean."

The fury had to wait. He moved to walk Sam to the couch, planted him there and squeezed his brother's shoulder; another cold wave of outrage washed over him when Sam winced in pain, like something was hurt there, too. "It's okay. It's okay, little brother, just don't move. I'm going to clean you up, and we're gonna — get you to the urgent care. You hear me? It'll only take a minute."

He got the first aid from the bare kitchen cabinet, dug around for all the things he'd been familiar grabbing any time Dad had gotten his bell rang. He fumbled with the supplies with all the grace Sam had opening the front door. Uttered a sorry before he carefully pressed the gel icepack to Sam's eye. The other eye locked onto him, red and wet, glazed with delirium.

"Dean," Sam wept, and Dean had to focus hard to make out what he was saying: "Dean, I think I'm dead... I tried to find help, but nobody — nobody stopped... I think they can't see me. I think I'm a ghost."

Jesus. Yeah, the kid was concussed. Bad.

"No way. Not my little brother. Never gonna let that happen." His smile was strained as he grabbed Sam's wrist and raised the hand to the boy's own face. "Ghosts aren't big on crying, right? The salt would burn like a bitch."

"Dean..."

"Yeah?"

"My ears're weird... Sounds weird," he admitted weakly, like he'd done something wrong.

"It's okay, dude. You're concussed."

"... Oh." Sam sat for a moment. Looked around the small, unlived space. The People's Court was moving into a commercial. "Dean... Don' tell Dad. Don't tellem I messed up."

Dean pressed a palm to Sam's chest, his thumb gently rubbing the hill of his collarbone to soothe him. Usually about now they'd be wrestling over some stupid fight, or he'd be getting him into a headlock to test his reflexes, or Sam'd be throwing pencils at him for interrupting his train of thought at the kitchen table.

"You didn't mess anything up. I promise." It was a Herculean effort to keep his hands soft and caring, because all they wanted to do now was rip someone to pieces. He was gonna. As soon as Sam was good, he was gonna split his knuckles knocking someone's teeth out. He was gonna paint the dirt with it. Gonna blacken both eyes and bleed both nostrils and break a few things in someone's body.

... But only after making sure Sammy'd be alright.

Sam was missing a backpack and about forty bucks in money he'd earned from mowing lawns for the balding, dorky librarian living across the street. That same librarian ushered the boys into the back seat of her Sedan and made a beeline for the nearest ER. With Sam leaning against him, his knobby elbow jutting into his ribs, Dean answered a question nervously asked from the driver's seat.

"I don't know who did it. But I'm real good at hunting down whatever I got to."

**************** **************** **************** ****************

There was a gratifying sound of Sylvester's skull hitting the side of his own truck after Dean threw him into it headlong. Storming forward, he doesn't hesitate to pick Sly back up by his flannel jacket to do it all over again. "Taking from the grown-ups not good enough for you?! You think you can fucking steal from kids, huh?! Think you can beat up some kid a third your size, huh?! You fuck—"

Wheezing, Sylvester tried to drag himself up into the driver's seat of his truck, a feeble effort to escape his punishments. A small crowd from a barbershop across the street formed, but kept their distance — older ladies mostly who knew better than to put their hands between a dog fight. Dean ignored them to grab Sylvester by the front of his collar and hoist him a foot up from the seat he'd slumped on. Their faces were inches apart, so that he could look into hazel eyes seeing red. "If I ever see you again, I'mma kill you. Do you understand? Do I make myself clear? I'll sleep like a baby after."

Sylvester didn't reply, but he did moan in pain, and Dean considered that an answer. He dropped him and stepped over his heaving chest with dust-stained boots to retrieve a backpack out of the truck bed. Then he reached into the man's jean pocket with swelling knuckles, digging more than forty dollars out of the billfold he finds there and shoving the wad into his own pocket. Then he chucked the rest of the wallet across the unleased dirt field.

"Go fuck yourself," Dean said finally, and left just as he'd come.

**************** **************** **************** ****************

Dean and Sam could barely fit on the apartment's couch together, legs crammed together under a quilted blanket while the television had cast an ever-changing glow over them. Sam's face was still a mess of Dean's least favorite colors, but now he could see both of his eyes, and that helped loosen the knot in his stomach. John had been called from the ER, told the story from front to back, and he filled the teenager with grim vindication when he complimented Dean's recent successful hunt.

The verdict: a 24-hour observation in the hospital, during which John Winchester strode in to keep vigilant watch over Dean as he kept vigilant watch over Sam; he hadn't stopped watching him since they'd gotten home after, either. Dean could hear his father's snores through the door into the one bedroom. Who knows when the last time Dad slept had been; he'd come straight back from the end of the destroyed vamp nest, no pitstops.

"... Dean?" Sam asked after him, wearily. If he had a nickel for every time the boy said it today, he'd be a millionaire. But there was an awareness in Sam's eyes this time that had been frighteningly missing earlier, as he stared at him from across the short couch. In the ER, it had taken a lot of coaxing and promising that Sam wasn't as dead as he'd thought he was, and now Dean was very confident he finally believed it a day late and a dollar short.

"Yeah?"

"Your hands."

He glanced down at the bruised, scraped up knuckles, and just shook his head at the sight of Sam's apprehension; he hadn't told Sam exactly what happened, but his brother was smart. Smarter than most people who came and went in their lives. Smarter than Dean had ever felt he could be. He sighed as he flexed his hands. "Don't worry. I'm not going to jail for murder or anything. Just... rest, okay?"

Sam's chin sunk into the blanket. Not appeased, but relenting.

The battered kid mumbled, "You're the one who looks tired," then he smiled in that way that made Dean regret his bleeding heart. Dean's mouth opened for a moment, then closed. He played it off as best he could, but the rough emotion in the way he glanced aside and rubbed a hand down his mouth was hardly subliminal. "Yeah, well. Sometimes worrying too much is exhausting, dude."

Sam bit his lip. "I'll try not to worry you as much, then."

Dean reached out, patted the bony knee near his.

"... I might have to hold you to that."

But really? He would never.

#spn #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #weechesters #preseries #spn prompts #spn fanfic #hurt!sam #hurt/comfort #warning for injured child!!!

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wosoimagines · 4 years

Text

Teddy Bear - Rose Lavelle/Reader

I was gonna post this yesterday, but I was really tired and ended up falling asleep at 9:00 last night. It was weird yesterday cause I ended up getting nearly 10 hours of sleep.

prompt: Hey there! Could you write one where R is new to the USWNT but she’s really intimidating? The team accidentally end up leaving R out of team bonding. R eventually ends up hanging out with Rose. Rose sees R interacting with dogs one day and her crush on R grows even bigger. R then asks Rose out and the team is concerned but ultimately are chewed out by Rose for leaving R out of team activities

warnings: Swearing

words: 2843

(Y/N) POV

I threw my bag onto the bed before glancing around the room. I was a little surprised that my roommate wasn’t here yet. I had taken a later flight since I had some things to take care of in Houston. I had to talk with Kristie and Rachel about watching over Cooper for me.

It was weird to be called up to the senior national team camp. Especially considering that I had flown under the radar of the national team for all of my college career. I had stood out enough for the Houston Dash to select me in the draft. With 2018 being my rookie season and they season that I shined to win the Rookie of the Year Award, the USWNT had taken notice of me. It probably helped that I went out on a loan to the Brisbane Roar, and I had done really well there as well.

I was brought out of my thoughts by the door to the room opening. I looked up to see Rose Lavelle entering. She looked like she was struggling a bit with her bags and the door so I rushed up and over to her. Rose flinched at my sudden movement and I didn’t blame her.

I would have been weary too if a 6′2″ giant rushed over to me. I put a hand on the door to hold it open for her.

“You want help with your bags?”

“I’ve got it,” Rose shook her head as she kept her eyes on the ground.

I was also used to people not making eye contact with me seeing as most people tended to stare at the scars on my face. They also seemed to believe that the scars made me aggressive and rude. But as I had been assured by many of my Houston Dash teammates, I was only aggressive on the pitch. It was something I had grown used to.

Rose took the bed that didn’t have my bag on it. I closed the door and walked into the room to look at her. I could see Rose eyeing the bed that I had thrown my bag on.

“If you want the bed by the window, that’s fine,” I assured her. Rose looked back at me and I nodded to it. “You can have it. It doesn’t bother me. I just sat down there.”

Rose gave me a soft smile and moved her stuff to the other bed before I grabbed my stuff from the bed. I moved it to the other bed. I saw Rose perk up slightly when her phone rang so I figured it was a friend of hers. I started to unpack my stuff.

“I don’t know, Mal,” Rose said as I walked into the bathroom to put my toothbrush and my shampoo and conditioner in there. “I’m rooming with (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

I tried not to let the fact that they were talking about me get to me. I was a little surprised to find Rose walking out of the door when I was walking out of the bathroom. I had a feeling that she was talking to Mallory Pugh, which probably meant that there was team bonding, but no one had yet to tell me.

I wanted to shrug it off, and I might have been able to if someone from my NWSL team was here to assure me that it was fine, but they weren’t. I shook my head and continued to unpack my stuff. It didn’t take me long before I headed to go get my gear since I was new and didn’t actually have any of the training gear that we would use. I knocked on the door to the room I was told that my gear would be at.

I was surprised to see Jill and Dawn being the ones who were sorting everything out. Both of the women turned to look at me. I gave them a small wave.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Jill admitted.

“I don’t know why.” I shrugged. I motioned to the gear that they were sorting. “I came to get my stuff.”

Jill nodded as Dawn moved to get my gear. Jill studied me and I knew that I was tense. I wasn’t like the other girls on the team who all had teammates from their NWSL teams coming. Well, Carli didn’t, but she had been with the team for so long now that everyone knew who she was.

“You know there is team bonding tonight,” Jill said.

“Wasn’t invited.”

Dawn and Jill shared a look but I played it off. I eyed the gear in Dawn’s hands and knew that it was mine.

“That mine?” I asked and Dawn nodded. I took it from her and gave her a smile. “Thanks.”

I turned to head back to my room. A hand on my arm stopped me. I turned to look at my two coaches.

“(Y/N), if you want, we can talk to the team,” Dawn assured.

“It’s fine.”

The two looked skeptical but I headed back to my room. I didn’t do much more besides end up ordering room service for dinner. I ended up sending Kristie a text to let her know that I was going to get a shower so she wouldn’t call me while I was doing that. Once I got out, I let her know so that she would call me when she was home.

It didn’t take long for my phone to ring. Sure enough, it was Kristie. I grinned as I answered the phone.

“Hey.”

“Are you missing us yet, (Y/N),” Kristie asked. I chuckled because I wasn’t necessarily missing them, but I was missing Cooper.

“No, not yet.”

“I see how it is,” Kristie scoffed. I smiled at her and she laughed a little. “Who are you rooming with?”

“Rose Lavelle.”

“Too bad it isn’t Sammy. I swear you are going to join her single person height group so it’ll just be you two freaks against the rest of us.”

“Yeah, if she ever talks to me,” I sighed. Kristie looked confused because I knew that she had told Sam about me, but Sam and I had never actually met each other off of the field. “I asked Rose if she wanted some help with her stuff and she declined. I figure Mallory Pugh called her and told her about team bonding and no one invited me.”

“Oh, (Y/N).”

“It’s fine. I’m used to it,” I shook my head. I cleared my throat after we stayed on Facetime with silence. Which normally wouldn’t have been awkward, but Kristie understood how hard it was for me.

“You know, you can let your emotions out every now and then if you want,” Kristie assured. I couldn’t do what she said. It wasn’t that easy. “Just tell Rose that you don’t want to be left out.”

“How’s Cooper?” I changed the subject.

“Out on a walk with Rachel and Dexi.”

The door to my hotel room opened. I wasn’t too worried about it since there was security to make sure that we had the floor to ourselves, so if it wasn’t Rose then it had to be someone with the USWNT. But, Rose did walk into the room.

“I wanna see my baby!”

“You will!”

“But now,” I whined. Kristie shook her head at me.

“You’re just as bad a Rachel is whenever we Facetime and Dexi is with me.”

“You’re telling me that you aren’t the same way?”

“Who are you talking to?” Rose asked. I turned in my bed to look at her before showing her the phone. “Oh, hey, Kristie.”

“Hey, Rose.”

“Oh, look, it’s a puppy!” Rose squealed. A familiar bark came through the phone and I knew that Rachael had to have gotten back. I moved the phone back so I could look at it. I grinned when I saw Cooper.

“My baby!” Cooper immediately looked around at the sound of my voice. Kristie shook her head and passed the phone off to Rachel. “Was he good on the walk?”

“Yeah, he was great,” Rachel nodded.

“I cannot thank you guys enough for watching Cooper while I’m at camp.”

“It’s no problem,” Rachel assured. I knew that it had been something that I had sprung on them still. I happened to glance at the time because Rose looked like she was sleepy.

“Hey, I’m gonna go. Call me tomorrow?”

“Yeah, Kristie or I will.”

“Thanks,” I said. Rachel just nodded before she hung up. I sighed and set the alarm on my phone before plugging it up to charge. “I know you didn’t unpack your stuff today, but if you want my help tomorrow, I can help you.”

“It’s fine.”

“Okay.”

I just played on my phone while Rose got ready for bed. I was a little surprised once Rose got into her bed. She turned to look at me.

“What kind of dog do you have?”

“Cooper’s an Australian Shepherd. Next time you’re in Houston, you can meet him if you want.”

“That’d be cool,” Rose nodded. I gave her a small smile before I turned off the light so we could go to sleep.

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

Although most of the team still hadn’t warmed up to me, I was surprised that Rose had started to hang out with me quite a bit. I had a feeling that Kristie had something to do with it, however. It wouldn’t have surprised me if Rose had answered Sam’s phone when Kristie was calling her. Rose and I were currently at the park.

“How did you get the scars on your face?” Rose asked me after we had walked in silence for a few minutes. I was a little surprised that she had asked me that. Most people were too scared, and Rose didn’t seem like the person who would ask me that.

“Freshman year of high school,” I admitted. I always told people that it had looked worse than it really was. “It was our first game of the season and I showing off to the other team cause we were winning behind my brace. One of the senior defenders didn’t appreciate that and took a cheap shot to trip me up before she stepped on my face.”

“Holy shit,” Rose gasped. She stopped walking and made me face her. “Didn’t it hurt?”

“I had so much adrenal that I didn’t really notice. They did tell me that I was lucky I didn’t go blind in one eye.”

“What happened to the other player?”

“They didn’t let her play for most of the season, but we met them at state. We won, this time behind my hat-trick.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t hit her.”

“Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean that I’m violent. If I get violent, it’s gonna be on the field.”

I hated the stereotype that followed me around. I didn’t like to get violent with anyone. I could if I needed to, but that rarely occurred. It wasn’t something that I should be used to, but it was something I had grown used to.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

We fell into silence again before we started to walk. I smiled as we saw kids running around playing. Something caught my eye. It was a man walking his dog. I gave a small squeal causing Rose to look at me weird and the dog to turn it’s attention to me.

The dog gave a small bark and tried to get over to me. I grinned as I took long strides to the dog. I looked at the man first.

“Can I pet him?” I asked him. The man nodded and let me pet his dog.

I grinned as I knelt down to bet the dog. The dog really loved the attention too. I couldn’t help but laugh when the dog licked my face. Rose joined me in petting the dog. We didn’t stay long to give the dog attention but it had made me a lot happier.

“You really love dogs,” Rose said. I looked at her with a grin on my face.

“Yeah, they don’t judge me for being tall or the scars on my face.”

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

I jumped out of my bed once I heard Rose call out that she was going to go hang out with Mal and Sam. I grabbed onto her arm. I normally wouldn’t do what I was about to, but Kristie had pushed me to do it.

“Do you wanna go on a date with me?” I asked. Rose looked a little surprised. “You don’t have to. I just, I thought... Stupid idea, sorry.”

“No, (Y/N), it’s not stupid,” Rose assured as she gave me a smile. “I’d love to go on a date with you. But tonight is our last night at camp.”

“There’s this restaurant not far from here I’d like to take you to tonight if you want. It’s not really fancy either, so.”

Rose grinned and nodded. She pulled me down by my shirt some before she stood on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. I felt my cheeks heat up as I ducked my head. Rose pushed me so that I had my back to her.

“What are you doing?”

Rose shushed me as she opened the closet. I furrowed my brow in confusion. I heard the closet door shut before the hotel door opened.

“I want it to be a surprise for when you pick me up. I’ll be in Mal and Sam’s room. Pick me up at 7,” Rose said. I smiled even though she couldn’t see it. Once the door shut behind me, I did a fist pump in excitement.

I had quite a while until I would pick Rose up since it was only 2:00. I didn’t do much besides taking a shower and then I called Kristie to tell her and Rachel about my date. I was sure that they would spread the word to my Houston teammates soon enough. I started to get ready around 6:00 so that I could be a little early to pick Rose up.

I opted to wear my ripped black jeans with them cuffed at the bottom and my boots on. I wore a white shirt and a red flannel over it. Once I grabbed my phone and wallet, I headed to Mal and Sam’s room. I could hear voices talking behind the door. I went ahead and knocked on it anyways.

“I can’t believe you’re going on a date with (Y/N),” Alex’s voice made me froze. I didn’t realize that some of the others had joined in hanging out in Mal and Sam’s room. “We know nothing about her and she could be dangerous.”

The door opened and I faced Alex herself. Alex froze when she realized that I was outside the door. I looked away from her and at Rose who had looked to see who was at the door. I couldn’t help but stare at Rose. She was dressed in a flowery dress with a jean jacket and Doc Martens. Rose looked amazing.

“You look beautiful,” I smiled at her.

I ignored the stares that I got from our national teammates. Rose blushed and looked down.

“Thanks, you looked good, too,” Rose said when she looked up.

“Are you ready?” I asked Rose as I motioned behind me. “If not, I can wait. I know I’m early.”

“No, I’m ready,” Rose assured. She joined me at the door after she grabbed a small purse.

“Rose,” Ali said as she grabbed ahold of Rose’s arm. Rose turned to look at her and pulled her arm away.

“No, okay. I’m going on a date with (Y/N), and you all are just going to have to deal with it,” Rose snapped. I had assumed that I had been the reason a majority of the national team was in Mal and Sam’s room. “None of you know her. I barely know her, but I know that she isn’t some asshole. (Y/N)’s just a big teddy bear and you all would know that if you would invite her to team bonding. None of you want her there, and why? Cause she’s tall? She has scars on her face? Guess, what. I don’t care. I want to go out on a date with her and I’m gonna go and have a good time. The rest of you are just going to have to deal with and get to know her. Cause once you do, you’ll realize that she is a teddy bear.”

Rose huffed and grabbed onto my arm. She dragged me to the elevators. We stayed quiet until we got into the elevators. Once the doors closed, I looked at Rose.

“Thank you,” I softly said. Rose looked at me confused. “Most people wouldn’t have done that for me. You did, so thanks.”

“It’s no problem,” Rose smiled at me. She reached up to kiss my cheek. “Besides, I wasn’t wrong. You’re a big teddy bear.”

#rose lavelle imagine #rose lavelle imagines #rose lavelle x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #rose lavelle #USWNT

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themaninflannel · 4 years

Text

Orgasms and Cold Pizza (snapshots pt1)

summary: reader met dean senior year of hs Bc she looked out for Sam. She kept in touch with both of them (but more Sam). When Sam goes off to college a sad dean shows up on her doorstep with no warning.

word count: almost 4k wtf

warnings: sad dean, drinking, virgin!reader, smut

A/N: this is part one of a new series im starting that is gonna be snapshots of the reader and deans lives together ~~~~~~~~~~ It may have been two am but I had yet to put down my book, so I was awake when I heard knocking at my front door. I wasn’t going to open it-because hello it was two am- but the knocking kept going so I was just going to tell them off. I opened the door to see a familiar face, and a sad one at that. I blearily rubbed my sleep filled eyes, “Dean?” I’m sure he could hear the confusion in my voice.

“Sammy left,” He said dejectedly.

Without thinking I reached out for him and pulled him into my arms half expecting him to resist but instead he collapsed on to my shoulders. Releasing him, I nudged the door open a little more and pulled him farther inside. Quietly I led him into the kitchen and handed him a beer.

“He left us, he left the life,” Dean mumbled.

“Yeah, umm he told me a while ago that he got into Stanford. I kinda figured he might,” I guiltily ran my hands through my hair.

“He did? He sure as hell didn’t tell dad and me,” he stood up, running his hands over his face.

My legs, working on their own, carried me across the room until I was right in front of him, “Dean. You know he didn’t leave because he wanted to leave you, right?” I said putting my hand on his arm.

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah,”

“Hey, I mean it,” My voice was soft but firm. “You’ve always looked out for your brother, he knows that.” I was met with sullen silence.

After a few minutes of quietly sipping on our drinks he spoke up. “I mean I know this life ain’t easy but college, man!?”

“You know the boy’s always liked school,” I said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. It did not work. “Alright. Are we getting drunk then?”

“Yep,” he said after downing the rest of his beer, “you got anything stronger?”

“Oh do you doubt me, Winchester?” I got up and opened the pantry to show the assortment of liquor bottles.

“Well then,” he raised his eyebrows as I dropped a bottle of whiskey in front of him, keeping the vodka for myself.

Once Dean had made it most of the way through his bottle he seemed more nostalgic than sad, “Do you remember back in high school…” he paused to take another drink, “when you thought Sammy needed to be taken care of?”

“Hey! In my defense he was very small then! And he did get picked on,”

“Ok, fair enough” he raised his hands in defense, “I’m glad you had his back,”

“Yeah well, someone had too since you kept getting in trouble,” It continued on like this for a while until I had deemed it time to cut Dean off and make him go to bed. “Alright come on, I’ll get you settled in my room,”

Just as I was leaving the room I heard a voice behind me, “do you think he’s gonna come back?”

“Honestly? I don’t know, but I know that just because he went off to school doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you,” I said turning back towards him and sitting on the bed.

“Psh. I know dads not the biggest joy in our lives but why can’t he just suck it up?” My heart broke when his voice cracked. Even in the dark I could tell he was tears eyed.

“He and your dad have always had a tricky relationship,” I commented, scooting closer to him.

“Yeah,” he scoffed, “you should have seen it the night he left,” I could see on his face that it had gotten bad between them that night.

“I never liked your father,”

“He didn’t like you much either,” he admitted.

“Well, I’d imagine not!” It got quiet as we both remembered the first time I had met John Winchester.

Sam had invited me over to study for a history exam, even though I was a senior and he was a freshman we were in the same class. He was slightly embarrassed to tell me that he lived in a motel but that quickly faded once we got to studying. We were almost done when his brother came back.

“Heya Sammy,”

“Dean! I thought you were supposed to be gone all day?”

“Eh, got bored,” he dismissed. Flopping down on one of the beds, opening up a magazine. “Dads gonna be pissed you brought her over,”

“What is your problem with me Dean?” I spoke up, I wasn’t gonna let Sam get pushed around like that.

“I don’t care either way, but dad doesn’t like us having people over,” As if on queue an older man opened the door.

“Boys,” He gruffly acknowledged the boys, not noticing me at first, “who’s this?” He gestured to me, his voice making it clear that there was more involved in his question.

“Oh, umm,” Sam stuttered.

“I’m Y/N, I was helping Sam study but we were just finishing up,” I jumped in trying to help the poor boy out.

“Well Y/N, it’s probably about time you were heading out. I have some business to discuss with my boys.”

In class the next day Sam barely looked at me, and Dean-well Dean never paid me much attention anyway. After the bell rang I ran after Sam before Dean could drive off.

“Sam! Wait up dude,” he ignored me until I was close enough to grab his elbow, “Hey, what’s wrong? It’s like you were somewhere else today,”

“Oh, uh, hey Y/N,” he was clearly avoiding the question. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dean walk up to the car, seemingly hiding his face.

“Come on Sammy, get in the car,” As he got in the car I caught a glimpse of a purple bruise on his jaw.

“Um sorry, we have to get home before Dad” Sam explained shyly. As they drove away I connected the dots between Dean’s bruise and their fear of their father. Right then and there I decided I was going to protect Sam as much as I could, I doubted Dean would let me but I knew I was gonna try.

“You should probably get some sleep,” Dean’s voice was hoarse, and much closer than I had realized. At some point we had ended up leaning on each other, slumped in the center of the bed.

“Alright, but I’m not leaving you here to be sad and alone so don’t hog all the covers,” I sleepily shuffled under the blanket, Dean sliding in beside me. He fell asleep almost immediately, but me? I was laying there trying to wrap my brain around this version of Dean, the version thats cocky and tough I’m familiar with but this vulnerable and insecure Dean is a side I hadn’t seen before. Somewhere in the night we had ended up wrapped in each other's limbs, his head on my chest, his arms circling my waist.

Dean was still asleep when I woke up; I laid there with my hand in his hair, realizing that this was as relaxed as I had been in a long while and I was in no rush to wake him up. We stayed like that until Dean started to stir,

“Morning sleepyhead,”

“Oh uh, mornin’,” he mumbled, rolling away seemingly embarrassed.

“How ya feeling after last night? You downed most of that whiskey,” I teased, poking his shoulder.

“Ha-shut up, I’m fine”

“Well, personally I am severely under-caffeinated so I’m gonna go make coffee,” I said definitively, pushing myself up heading to the kitchen. Dean got up and followed me, pointedly ignoring how we woke up.

“You wanna coffee?” I asked, reaching up to the cabinet where my favorite mug was.

“Yes, please,” he said emphatically, running his hands over his face to wake himself up a little.

“Ok, you gotta tell me more about what you and your brother do,” I slid a mug across the island to him, “I mean he told me a little bit about the life, and you’ve filled me in a little, but I’m curious,”

“Nah, you don’t need to know how fucked up the world actually is,”

“Please. I already know the world is a flaming piece of garbage, you wouldn’t be bursting any bubbles with that realization,” My voice came out more cynical than I meant.

“You really wanna know? About all the things that go bump in the night? All the monsters who are dying to eat your face?”

“Yeah. If I’m gonna have to live in the world with all that crap then I’d like to at least know what’s what,” I didn’t expect him to actually tell me, but he launched into stories about the creatures that he and Sammy have fought. We talked for hours, me asking questions, him telling stories. By the time he seemed to have run out of stories and he deemed I was sufficiently afraid it was early afternoon.

“Shit, is it already three? I should get on the road soon,”

“Do you have to? You can stay here another night, ya know,” I hoped he would stay.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna over stay my welcome, I already showed up out of the blue-“

“Dean. You’re staying.” I interrupted, “you can show up any time, I like the company,”

After convincing him to stay we ordered pizza and settled in for a chill night of movies and beer.

After we stuffed ourselves with pizza and watched as many shitty comedies as we could handle, we were tipsy and sleepy and I made the executive decision that it was time for us (well, at least me) to crash for the night. After telling Dean he could watch whatever he wanted I headed into my room, put on comfy clothes and got curled up under the covers. A while after, when I was just starting to drift off I heard the door open,

“Hey, Y/N? You still awake?”

“Hmm? Yeah,” my voice was thick with sleep.

“Can I- um can I sleep in here again?” He sounded so timid, not at all like the over confident persona he normally put on.

“Of course, come ‘ere,” I smiled, pulling the blankets down on the other side of the bed. He took his jeans off leaving him only in his boxers and climbed in next to me.

“You sure this is ok?” He asked again before fully relaxing.

“Dude, if I wasn’t chill with it I wouldn’t have said yes. Plus, you slept in here last night anyway,”

“I know, and we ended up the way we did this morning and I just- I wasn’t sure-“ I cut him off by pulling his arm over my side and shushing him. With him as the big spoon I think he had gotten it through his head that I wanted him there.

“Hey dean?” He grunted in acknowledgment, “You show up here after almost four years, I just- I gotta ask, why here? Why did you come to my door?” He was silent for a long time, I thought he may have fallen asleep.

“Honestly?” I nodded, “I don’t know, you were one of the few people who knew Sammy like I did, and who knew about our lives,” he paused, “I think it just seemed the least complicated place to go.” He finished quietly.

“Fair enough, I’m glad you did though. I worry about you boys,” we fell back into a comfortable silence before he spoke again.

“Ok, my turn to ask something,” I twisted until I was facing him.

“Go for it,”

“Why is it just you living here? Doesn’t it get lonely?”

“Sometimes, but I like having the place to myself,”

“I always liked to think that after Sammy I left, you would have shacked up with some dude and lived the apple pie life,”

“Oh please. You know that’s not my style,” I scoffed, “and as far as me and dudes there’s never been anyone of importance,”

“Really? No one?” He seemed surprised by this.

“What? Is it so hard to believe?”

“But why?”

“You’ve met me, you know feeeelings aren’t my thing,”

“Ok but like what about hookup or something, you did go to college right? Isn’t that part of college life?”

“I don’t like doing new things with strangers, it is what it is. I’m not upset about it,” I shrugged.

“Just wouldn’t have pegged you as a virgin,”

“Oh I give off slutty vibes do I?” I teased him.

“No- I just- never mind,” I could practically see him mentally smacking himself in the forehead.

“Good night, Dean,” I rolled back over and he wrapped his arm back around my waist.

The next morning I woke up with Dean still pressed against my back, I don’t know if we moved at all in the night. I just knew that I slept like a rock. And that there was something poking me in the back. It took me a minute to figure out what it was but when it dawned on me I couldn’t help but giggle a little bit.

“Hey, ummm, Dean?” It came out higher than I meant it to.

“Hmm?” He sleepily responded, “oh shit, Y/N I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- it just-it does that sometimes,” He moved away from me covering his face with his hands.

“I didn’t say I was upset about it,” I slowly pulled his hand down until he could see me.

“What…. Y/N..? Huh?” You’d think he was the virgin not me.

“I said, I wasn’t upset. I just thought you should know that your dick-“

“Whoa! Ok, enough,” he cut me off. Turning his body to face me, our faces closer together than before, “are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” My voice came out thin and whispery, but I leaned towards him anyway. I could almost hear my heartbeat in my ears, but the second that his lips touched mine that was the only thing I could focus on. After a second he pulled back with a questioning look in his eyes, I nodded and he kissed me again. Harder this time, his tongue finding its way into my mouth, my hand to his hair, his hands...everywhere. We stayed like that for a few minutes before he pulled away again, this time taking his whole body a few inches away from mine pulling a needy whine (that I will deny ever happened) out of me.

“Wait...wait, we can’t do this,” he said breathlessly.

“And why the hell not?”

“You’ve never…your first shouldn’t be me,”

“Why not. You’re not a stranger and there doesn’t need to be feelings. Checks all my boxes,”

“Oh wow, you sure know how to make a guy feel special,” I rolled my eyes and pulled him so his face was close to mine again.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I want this. You’re not taking advantage or anything like that, ok?” That was all he needed to hear before pushing himself so he was hovering over me, mouth back on mine, hands in my hair. Soon his mouth moved along my jaw and down my neck making sounds come out of my mouth that I didn’t think I could make. I could feel him smirking as he moved back up to my jaw. I could feel his hands start to migrate under my shirt, stopping just below my rib cage. I knew he was waiting for permission before going any farther so I pushed him onto his back before tearing my shirt off and leaning over him so I was on top.

“No bra?” He questioned his hand automatically going to my boobs, flicking one of my nipples.

“Who sleeps in a bra?” I tried to say it jokingly but his mouth found my other nipple making it turn into a gasp. I tried to get back at him by grinding my hips down on the bulge that was now under me. He made a delicious gasp/moan sound that just made me never want to stop. I slowly shifted myself, kissing my way down his chest, giving attention to each nipple as I passed it, eventually making my way down to his happy trail and the edge of his boxers.

“Ahh…..sweetheart… you don’t-you don’t have to do that. Not... for your first time,”

“Oh, but what if I want to?” The words came out sugary sweet, just the thought of what was about to happen was enough to dampen my underwear. I looked up at him for permission and he nodded, his eyes closing when I turned my attention back to the waistband of his boxers. He moaned loudly when I placed soft kisses on his fabric covered length before I pulled his shorts down and he kicked them the rest of the way off. Once he was fully exposed I took a second to admire what I saw; the toned muscle of his chest, the soft skin on his stomach, all the way down to his perfectly pink cock standing up out of a bush of dark curls.

“Like what you see?” He teased.

As an answer I leaned back down and licked a stripe from his balls all the way up to his leaking head. I earned a gasp and then a groan when I took the whole head into my mouth hollowing my cheeks and taking in as much of him as I could, one hand coming up to pump the part that I couldn’t fit in my mouth and the other reaching up and playing with his balls.

“Holy….you shouldn’t be..how do you….” He gave up trying to make coherent sentences when I took his dick out of my mouth and sucked one of his balls. Once I had given them enough attention I moved back to his shaft, lavishing it in kisses and licks.

“Ok...I’m not gonna…. you gotta stop… if you want this to last…” he brought his hand to my face and pulled me back up so he could kiss me. His other hand came around my hip and flipped us so he was hovering above me with a shiteating grin on his face. It was his turn to tease me, he moved down so his face was right above my belly button. His fingers hooked into the waistband of my sleep shorts pulling them off. As soon as he had me naked he went back to kissing and licking everywhere he could, after some pleading from me he finally moved back between my legs where I needed him most. He licked a stripe between my folds, giving extra attention to my clit. I could feel the knot in my stomach tightening already, my breathing getting faster. He was still swirling his tongue in circles when one of his large fingers pushed into me making me moan and arch my back, pushing impossibly closer to his face. I could feel him smiling as he continued to work his finger in and out of me, eventually adding another curling them upward reaching that one spot that I could never quite reach myself. The knot in my stomach tightened even more, my hips bucking on their own.

“D.. I’m close..”

“Let go baby, I wanna taste it,” that’s all it took for me to cum on his face. Blissed out and breathing heavily I almost missed Dean looking smug wiping my juices off of his chin.

“We don’t have to keep going…” he said and I think he really would have been totally fine stopping if I asked but I was nowhere near ready to be done.

“Condoms are in the nightstand,” was my bold way of saying I wanted to keep going. I could tell it caught him by surprise but before I could say anything else he had plopped himself on top of me to get to the drawer.

“Eager much?”I laughed as his full body weight was still splayed over me. He rolled his eyes and kissed me again rolling the condom on. I could feel his hard length resting against my stomach as we kissed, all tongues and teeth. We had gotten past the timid part and were both ready for more. He shifted and I could feel the tip hit my sensitive clit making me gasp, his cock slid between my folds and pushed into my entrance, he stopped making sure I was good before he slowly pushed the rest of the way in. Once he was fully seated inside me, his head fell down on my shoulder, his lips moving on my neck. I got impatient and moved my hips making him slip out a little bit, Dean took the hint and started to move. His pelvis hit my clit every thrust and he one of his hands came up and played with my nipple, I was overwhelmed by all the new sensations that I didn’t even realize I was making sounds that I had never made before. With each movement dean hit that spot inside that made my eyes roll back, before long I could feel the knot tightening again. Deans thrusts started to get shaky and uneven,

“I’m not gonna last…” he grunted, his face buried in my neck.

“Me… neither,” my hips bucked and with one more snap of his hips I came undone. That was all it took for him to spill himself into the condom. He collapsed next to me throwing the condom in the trash.

“Well….” I exhaled, breathing heavily.

“Yeahhh…” deans breathing matched my own.

“Soo, I’m not a virgin anymore,”

“No you are not,” He sounded real happy with himself. And honesty, and couldn’t blame him.

“Job well done I’d say,” I reached over to high five him.

We laid there in exhausted silence for a while before either one of us had enough energy to do anything.

“Well, I am starving and there is cold pizza in the fridge,”I declared as I got out of bed and threw on some comfy clothes. I was halfway through my second piece of cold pizza when dean came trudging out of my room. With my mouth full of pizza I gestured to the open box.

“So…” Dean awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, “you’re really good with what just happened?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Organs and pizza is a good way to start the day,”

“I don’t know, I mean it was your first time?”

“Oh D, are you worried I’m gonna fall in love with you?” I mocked.

“What no- I just- I was checking on you is all!”

“Ohhh little defensive much? Maybe I should worry about you falling in love with me,” I teased waving pizza in his face.

When we had finished making fun of each other the topic turned serious.

“So, you gonna head back to your dad today?” I asked.

“Yeah, I should actually head out soon,” he said quietly. We chatted for a while longer before he decided it was time for him to go. He gathered his things and made his way to the door,

“Just one thing before you go,” I stopped him in the doorway, “give your brother a call, ok? He walked out on your father not on you,”

“Yeah, I will. Thanks sweetheart,” he hugged me and then he was gone. It had been four years since I met him in high school and I wondered if I would ever see the green eyed hunter again. I sure hoped I would.

#dean x reader #dean x reader smut #dean x reader fluff #dean winchester imagine #mine #supernatural #supernatural fic

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lets-play-gwent · 4 years

Text

Some Canary

Well, here it is! Thanks so much @chaotic-bard for the lovely prompt. I changed it just a smidge, but I think you’ll enjoy the final product. I plan on continuing this fic for at least a couple more chapters, that is, if people are interested :) Complete story under the cut, soon to be on ao3. If you enjoyed it, please reblog!

Chicago, 1932-- High profile mob families run almost every joint in the city, speakeasies launder money and sell bathtub gin through prohibition. Geralt Rivi is a lowly footsoldier for one of the most powerful bosses around: Tommy Morano himself. What is Geralt to do when he swoons for the son of rival gang leader Frank Pankratz?

The routine was so remarkably monotonous that the two men could almost rely on muscle memory alone. Approach the target, sit leaning slightly forward with hands clasped on top of the table. Do not remove hats or coats—this isn’t a permanent conversation. Keep eye contact with the target. Allow them to break the silence, subtly reminding them who has the power. The less chinning, the better. Let the reputation, and fists if necessary, do the talking. Once the target gets the picture, settle up or square up—no negotiating under any circumstances. Leave that to the big guys up top.

It was simple. A well-trained hound could do it. Why should tonight be any different? Geralt, none the wiser, was about to find out just how much his world could change in a night. His only warning? A few words from the night’s host and bandmaster.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and friends, now comes the time in the evening you’ve been waiting for. Without further ado, put your hands together for the lovely, the gorgeous, the sensational, Buttercup!”

It’s raining too hard for a cigarette, Geralt thinks to himself, reaching for the plain case in his pocket and carefully rolling a strip of tobacco and paper into a slender white cylinder. The paper dampened and drooped. Dammit. Turning up his collar against the wind, he walked towards the nearest dry patch of pavement he could find, a drugstore two blocks down. Ducking under the overhang, he lit his cigarette and took several long drags.

“Hey! Bum! Get outta ‘ere!” A short and rather lanky man was leaning out of the doorframe of the drugstore, shaking a broom and shouting. “We don’t want any trouble with the likes of yous!”

Geralt straightened his shoulders and grimaced hard at him. Despite the darkness of an autumn Chicago night, he could see the blood rush out of the man’s face, who quickly stammered an apology and slammed the door shut.

A rickety Ford pulled up to the curb. Geralt threw a quick glance up and down the street, stamped his cigarette butt into the gutter and climbed in.

“Where to tonight, boss?” His voice was gruff, hardened by years of smoking and a churly demeanor.

“The Passiflora. There’s a little fuckin prick there trying to weasel out of another payment. Collect 160 or take him out back and break his thumbs. Got it?”

Geralt gave a grunt and a curt nod in affirmation. He focused his gaze on the raindrops pattering against the window, toning out the superficial chatter of the three other men in the car. He hated the way they preened and boasted relentlessly at each other, always about some new broad or bar fight, sometimes both. He couldn’t stand the men he usually took shifts with, could barely keep their names straight, except for Lambert. Currently he was engrossed in recounting his latest run-in with cops—complete with obscene gestures and impressions—but when separated from the rest, Geralt found him tolerable, even funny at times. Yet, no matter how irritated he was, or how clever his jokes could be, Geralt knew never to rag on one of the Captains. Bottom-of-the-rung soldiers like him only needed to make that mistake once, and he had the scar on his jaw to prove it.

The brakes screeched in protest as the car slowed to a halt in front of an imposing brick warehouse. Lambert and Geralt climbed out, easily slipping into the ‘intimidating’ demeanor they carried for jobs like this. Lambert rapped on the door and waited. A small panel at eye level opened with a sharp crack, and a surly woman with a cigar and frizzy hair glared at the two men from behind the door.

“Who sent ya?” she said, puffing rank smoke directly into Geralt’s face. He cringed and turned away.

“Fat Sammy Morano and his cat,” Lambert replied, equally surly. The panel slammed shut, and almost simultaneously the door to their left creaked open a few inches.

Inside, Geralt’s eyes watered as his senses were assaulted with the bitter stench of bathtub gin. “I hate these fuckin places,” He rolled another cigarette. “Whose our guy?”

“The chrome dome with the green vest up by the stage. Let’s just get this over with and then we’ll get some grub, yeah?”

“Hmm,”

They wove through the tables together, trench coats occasionally brushing against a patron or chair. An irascible-looking waiter stopped them with a snide remark about wearing hats inside, and tried to seat them, but apparently one look from Lambert was enough to convey ‘don’t fuck with us’ because he quickly turned on his heel and attended to a nearby booth.

The curtain rose to reveal a lean man in a dazzling pigeon gray pinstripe suit. Humbly waving down the audience’s raucous applause, Buttercup began to pluck at the delicate strings of his guitar. His voice—silvery and saccharine, yet somehow still mellow—rang clearly through the now silent room.

Stars shining bright above you

Night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you’

Birds singing in the sycamore tree

Dream a little dream of me

Geralt was suddenly thankful for the chair next to him and quickly sat, trying to catch his breath. Years later, every time he told this story, he insisted that his Buttercup stole the air right out of his chest.

Say ‘nighty-night’ and kiss me

Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me

While I’m alone and blue as can be

Dream a little dream of me

Gone was his sour expression, gone was the rank smell of moonshine. The scratched wooden floor and sticky tables of the speakeasy seemed to fall away, leaving only two men, one guitar, one spotlight, and a long-forgotten smoldering cigarette.

Stars fading, but I linger on dear

Was it Geralt’s imagination, or was the singer… looking at him…?

Still craving your kiss

His hair, slicked back and shining underneath the stage lights, reminded Geralt of a Clark Gable movie poster he once saw. Had he ever noticed someone’s hair before?

I’m longing to linger ‘till dawn dear

His eyes, his face, his hands, were the most beautiful Geralt had seen in his life. Those lips, soft and pink, shaped so delicately around the words of the song, he found himself staring at them, wondering how they’d feel…

Just saying thi-is…

A sharp smack upside the back of his head brought him sailing down from the stars back to the speakeasy. Back to the job, where Lambert and the target were staring at him, the former’s face covered in bewildered rage, the latter’s face still shaken, albeit slightly confused.

“As we were saying—” Lambert emphasized the last two syllable’s in Geralt’s face, who cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders once more.

“You can se—ttle up now, or we’ll take it out back,” All three men at the table tried desperately to ignore the voice crack that took every drop of intimidation out of his words.

Nevertheless, the target fell into the familiar routine, terrified of Lambert if nothing else. “Aw jeez come on boys, you know I always come through, I just need a little more time is all, just until next week I pro—” he was suddenly on top of the table, Lambert’s fist pulling his shirt collar far too forward for comfort.

“Out back it is,”

The two men stood and strode quickly towards the side door, the target scrambling to keep up with the fist still clutching his shirt. Geralt took one last glance back at Buttercup, who to his utter surprise, was glaring at the group as they left the hall.

…

A dull crack echoed down the alley as Lambert’s fist left the target’s face. He groaned and stumbled to the side, bracing himself against damp bricks. “Pl—please, my wife—”

“I don’t want to hear it. 160 today, or we come back and fuck you up for real,” He dealt another blow, this time aiming for the target’s stomach. Two more hits and he was coughing and sputtering.

Geralt stood to the side, keeping watch on the street for any unlucky passersby. Keep your cool, focus on the job, he thought to himself, rolling another cigarette, thankful that the rain finally let up. The rattle of a doorknob and sudden burst of light, however, startled the paper and tobacco right out of his hands.

“Why good evening fells, waiting at the stage door for me? My my, a bit forward isn’t it?” Buttercup draped himself carefully against the doorframe, but his smirk faltered as he took in the blood dripping down the bald man’s face and the imposing nature of the trench coat cornering him against the wall. “Is there some sort of problem here?”

“Scram, kid, this doesn’t concern you,”

“Why, sir, don’t be so shy! I’m sure we can come to an… understanding…” he winked at the two bewildered racketeers and sauntered gracefully down the stairs. “I’m Julian. Aren’t you two a coupla tall glasses of trouble? Might have my hands full tonight,” Geralt carefully controlled his expression, trying to ignore Julian’s intoxicating smile and the fluttering in his chest. “What’s your name, hon?” He was addressing the target now.

“Eu—Eugene” A quite preoccupied Eugene held his bleeding nose in one hand and wrapped an arm around his midsection. “P-please—mister, I don’t-t have it all now, j-just just give me until next week, hey? N-n-next week, I promise, sound reasonable fellas?”

“Shut up!” Lambert barked.

“Now now! That’s no way to treat a faithful patron of the Passiflora, now is it? Eugene here is a friend of mine—” Julian strode over to the wall where Lambert was towering over the target and nudged his way between the two men. “Tips well and brings friends in whenever he can. Lord knows I owe him some money, why don’t I settle up?”

Lambert’s face darkened. Straightening his shoulders and looking down, he towered over the performer. “Don’t make me say it again, kid. This doesn’t concern you. Go back to your dressing room.”

Julian only laughed, seemingly impervious to the serious threat levied against him. The sound—so musical, even gentle—made Geralt’s breath catch in his chest.

Shock, confusion, and then comprehension quickly flashed across Lamberts face as he found himself with a fistful of cash. Counting it quickly, he grabbed Geralt’s arm and pulled him towards the street. “Let’s get out of here, before I do something stupid,”

“Toodeloo, sweethearts!” Julian called after them, helping Eugene stagger back into the building.

…

The car was quiet except for the rumble of the engine.

“Some canary, huh?”

“SOME CANARY? SOME?? CANARY??” Lambert’s voice was shrill with fury. “YOU FALL HEAD OVER GODDAMN HEELS FOR THE SON OF MORANO’S WORST FUCKING ENEMY, AND ALL YOU CAN SAY IS SOME? FUCKING? CANARY? JESUS CHRIST GERALT WHERE THE FUCK IS YOUR HEAD?”

“You mean that’s—”

“You guessed, it bub. That’s Julian Pankratz, of the Pankratz crime family. You know, those German pricks who’ve been trying to take down Morano for the past FIFTEEN YEARS??”

Geralt coughed out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, some canary…”

************

I hope you liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it!! Here’s a link to the song jaskier sings :))

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foreverevanescent · 5 years

Text

Nightmare from the Past (Chapter 4)

“So wait, you and Danielle spent two hours after school in the library talking about some comic book?” Clover asked, with Sam nodding with her face covered in a deep blush and a love-struck smile. Clover was driving Sam to her date with James at his apartment with Alex sitting next to her in the front.

“Yeah, since we were both there, Danielle decided to move our study date to after school, and it was amazing. We spent two hours together, and I was even able to talk to her…sort of,” Sam explained, holding the Demon Slayer manga with her arms close to her chest as if it was the most valuable item she ever owned.

“That’s great Sammy, you’re making progress. It’s only a matter of time before you’re talking about your day in a nice little apartment while you two are waiting until after college to get married,” Alex responded, leaving Sam and Clover in a state of surprise.

“How…did you know that’s what I’ve been wanting for a relationship with Danielle?” Sam asked, hoping that what she was thinking wasn’t the answer.

“You talk really loudly in your sleep, and cover your pillow in a lot of drool,” Alex admitted, scratching the back of her neck while chuckling. Clover actually managed to hold in her laughter and put a hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“Anyway, it’s really cool that you’re actually able to say something to her as opposed to hiding behind your purse. Now…you have to go with James,” Clover said with a grimace that matched Sam’s.

“I know. God, this is one of the worse things Jerry ever had me do,” Sam grumbled to herself in the back seat of the car, lightly banging her head on the headrest of the chair. A few minutes later, they arrived at the apartment complex where James lived. It was a very lowkey apartment complex, which was painted beige with white patio fences, and each building was only three stories high each.

“This is where he lives?” Alex asked, looking around to see whether or not there was more to the complex.

“You’d figure that a villain like him would want to live in a mansion or something like that,” Clover thought to herself before Sam shook her head.

“He’s such a cheap ass. He took me to cheap restaurants, and most of our dates were stuff we could do for free, like running, going to the park, stuff like that. I’m not surprised that he would get a place like this,” Sam answered with venom in her voice, bringing back memories that were worse than she originally thought.

“OK Sammy, breathe. You need to last at least long enough to find something suspicious,” Alex said, rubbing Sam’s back. Sam took a few deep breaths before nodding and looking at the apartment complex with a determined look on her face.

“You know Sam, imagining that James is Danielle would work too,” Clover teased in a sing-song tone, causing Sam to blush and turn to her with a glare.

“I would never insult Danielle or her beauty by connecting her in any way to that douchebag,” Sam said, in a tone that was soft but venomous, glaring at Clover. Clover chuckled uncomfortably before giving her a couple of pats on the shoulder.

“I was just kidding, Sam. But seriously, we’re here for you if things go to shit. We’re going to be at a department store across the street, so call us on your Compowder if you need us,” Clover said before she and Alex gave Sam a good luck hug, which Sam returned with vigor.

“Thank guys. Well, I guess I might as well go inside,” Sam said before she took a couple of deep breaths and opened the door to the apartment complex in front of her, giving Alex and Clover one last wave before they walked to the department store. Sam went up a couple of flights of stairs to the third floor, and she walked to the middle of the hallway and stopped at a door on the right. Sam took a few deep breaths to stop herself from punching James in the face the minute she saw him and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, James opened the door and brightened up when he saw her.

“Samantha! I’m so happy that you made it. I thought you had changed your mind,” James greeted, giving Sam a hug. Sam’s face twisted into a grimace, but she managed to twist that grimace into a smile.

“Thanks…,” Sam said, trying to sound as sincere as she possibly could. James let her go and invited her into his apartment. When Sam went in, she was surprised by how…ordinary the room was. There was nothing really special about his apartment. The walls were still white, there weren’t many plants or pictures around, and the furniture was just simple black leather couches and wooden chairs and tables for the kitchen. “Did you just move into this place?”

“Yes. It was a cheap place nearby, and I liked how it was away from the noise of the city, so I decided to move in here since it was only me,” James responded before walking up to Sam and putting an arm around her neck while holding a drink in his hand. “Unless you change your mind and decide to move in,” James flirted, which Sam responded to by rolling her eyes. She opened her mouth to tell him to back off, but took what seemed like her hundredth deep breath of the night, and relaxed.

“We’ll see how the night goes,” Sam mumbled before she ducked down and moved out of the way of James’ arm. James simply smiled back and went back to the kitchen.

“Would you like something to drink?” James asked.

“Yes please, but I don’t want any alcohol. Do you have any Sprite?” Sam asked, looking around the house for anything suspicious, but there wasn’t anything that popped out to her. But maybe if she went to his room…

“Of course,” James smiled back, before grabbing a Sprite bottle from inside the refrigerator and pouring its contents into a small glass with a couple of ice cubes. James gave her the drink, which Sam grabbed and looked at it.

“Thanks,” Sam said, looking at the inside of the cup. It looked like just an ordinary amount of Sprite. There was no discoloration, no odd odors, nothing that would indicate a poison. While James was still in the kitchen, Sam pulled out her Compowder and scanned her drink for any poisons. However, the scan came back negative, so she put her Compowder away, and took a sip out of the cup. James came to the living room with a flatbread pizza on a plate and put it in the middle of the coffee table in his living room.

“Samantha, why don’t you come here so we can eat?” James asked as Sam was standing by a support beam near the kitchen.

“Well…uh…I actually have…to go to the bathroom,” Sam said, sweating a bit from nervousness, before drinking the rest of the Sprite in her cup, including the ice. James nodded and got up to point her in the right direction.

“Of course, it’s the 2nd door to the right, right next to my room,” James said, pointing to the door to the bathroom. Sam nodded and walked to the bathroom, turning around when she arrived at the bathroom door, seeing that James had returned to the sofa in the living room. Sam moved away from the bathroom and went inside James’ room. When Sam did, she was surprised to see that the only things in there were normal; a bed with a green blanket, a couple of pillows with red pillowcases, a nightstand, a lamp, etc.

“Hmmm…” Sam hummed, before looking at a closet. Sam knew that there was always more than meets the eye, so she opened the closet, expecting to find some plans to steal something valuable. However, what she saw in there sent a chill up her spine and made her feel sick to her stomach.

What she found in James’ closet could best be described as a shrine to her. There were pictures completely covering a bulletin board, and all those pictures were of her. Most of the pictures were from their time dating, such as when they went to an amusement park, or when they went out running. However, as Sam looked through the bulletin board, she noticed other suspicious-looking pictures. Some of these pictures were of Sam not looking at the camera or barely in the range of the camera. However, what made her heart stop was a few pictures of her in the shower and underdressed. A couple of those pictures appeared to be taken last night, given she recognized the clothing she was wearing the night before.

“Wh…wh…what the hell?” Sam asked herself, putting a hand over her mouth to prevent the vomit from shooting out of her mouth. Sam backed away from the shrine, still shaking as if she were in Antarctica completely naked. She pulled out her Compowder to try and call Jerry, but she felt a hand grab her Compowder.

“Hello Samantha,” James said, looking straight at Sam with a lustful look in his eyes and a sick Cheshire smile on his face.

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winchesterbrotherstan · 4 years

Text

Supernatural- Hell House (1.17)

ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ... ᴮᵃᴮʸ ,,, i’m SOFT

Pairing: N/A, Olive Winchester (OC)

Summary: John’s gone, and the siblings are itching for a hunt. They call on the Richmonds for an extra hand. Sam and Dean start their own war, and Olive is left in the middle once more. Things are not what they seem.

Warnings: cursing, blood, bloody mouth, mentions of suicide, murder, gross old man flirting, etc

Word Count: 10,100

“What are you doing?” I asked Dean through a yawn.

I had fallen asleep on his arm the minute we hit the road, but now he was reaching for something, and it had woken me up. Jinx shuffled around in the backseat.

“Shh. Go back to sleep.” He kept his eyes on the road as he dug around in the backseat.

I let my eyes fall shut as I leaned back into his side. The Daeva had left a nasty gash on my thigh, one that we wouldn’t be able to explain to a doctor. Dean stitched me up, which was fine because I trusted him with my life, but it hurt like a bitch the whole time. Sam had to take Jinx out for a walk because she wouldn’t stop crying.

“Do you reach my phone?” Dean whispered.

I huffed as I dug through his jacket pocket and flipped his phone open. He took it, aimed it at Sam, and snapped a picture. I groaned at the noise and looked up to see Sam asleep with a plastic spoon hanging out of his mouth. Dean tossed his phone in my lap before blaring the music and singing along. Jinx let out a bark.

“De!” I whined, covering my ears.

I had been feeling weak and cranky for the last week. Sam shot up at my voice, or the thump of the bass, and spit the spoon out of his mouth. It landed on my knee and I swatted at it, letting it fall to the floor. Dean grinned as Sam leaned forward and turned the music down.

“Sorry, bug. Didn’t mean to spit it out on your knee.” He cooed as he put his arm up, inviting me to curl up against him.

I only grunted as I leaned over and pulled my feet up onto the seat, making a deliberate effort to hit Dean’s knee with my toes.

“Haha, very funny.” Sam glared at him.

He chuckled, ignoring my prodding. “Sorry. Not a lot of scenery here in East Texas, kinda gotta make your own.”

“Man, we’re not kids anymore, Dean. We’re not gonna start this shit again.”

“What shit?” Dean asked.

“The prank stuff. It’s stupid, and it always escalates.”

“Aww, what’s the matter, Sammy? Scared you’re gonna get a little Nair in your shampoo again?” Dean teased.

“Alright.” Sam shrugged. “Just remember, you started it.”

Dean snorted. “Bring it on, baldy.”

“Please, no.” I fussed. “I always get caught in the middle of your stupid prank wars.”

“Swear we’ll leave Olive out of it.” Sam put a pinky up, and Dean side-eyed him.

“Do I look like I’m gonna pinky promise you anything?”

I shoved my pinky into his face, coming dangerously close to his eye.

“Fucking pinky promise to leave me out of it, you prick.”

Dean scoffed as he hooked his pinky around mine. “Fine, fine.”

“Where are we anyways?” Sam asked with a yawn.

“A few hours outside Richardson. We’ll stop in a bit to let Jinx use the bathroom. Gimme the lowdown again?” Dean glanced between us and the road.

“Uh, hold on.” Sam took his arm back and sat up straight, digging through his bag. “Alright, about a month ago this group of kids goes poking around in this local haunted house.”

“Haunted by what?”

“Apparently, a pretty misogynistic spirit. Legend says it takes girls and strings them up in the rafters.” Sam explained.

“Right, which is why we called on the Richmonds. Hunter will be our temporary Olive.” Dean spoke, then faked a gag. “God, I hate the sound of that.”

I rolled my eyes and leaned back into my seat. “Why can’t we just do this like any other job? Why’d we have to bring the Richmonds along?”

Dean eyed me. “Relax, short-stuff.”

“We’re not letting you walk into a death-trap, Ol.”

I snorted. “Oh, please, Sam. We’re hunters. You do realize we walk into death-traps for a living, right?”

Sam and Dean shared a look over my head. Dean said nothing, and Sam huffed.

“Anyways, this group of kids sees this dead girl hanging in the cellar.”

“Anybody ID the corpse?”

“Well, that’s the thing. By the time the cops got there the body was gone. So cops are saying the kids were just yanking chains.”

I yawned. “Maybe the cops are right. High school kids are fucking idiots.”

“Ollie, you are a high school kid.”

“No, I’m a hunter who happens to be high school kid aged. There’s a difference.”

“Either way, I read a couple of the kids first hand accounts. They seemed pretty sincere.”

“Where’d you read these accounts?” Dean asked, skeptical.

Sam cleared his throat and looked out the window, his tell of embarrassment. I giggled. He must’ve gone onto some pretty stupid websites.

“Well, I knew we were gonna be passing through Texas, so um… last night, I might’ve surged some local… paranormal websites.” He pushed out quickly before clearing his throat again. “And I found one.”

“Uh huh.” Dean looked over with a face that read ‘that’s ridiculous!!’.

I snorted. “And what’s it called?”

“Hellhounds lair dot com.”

“Oh, lemme guess, streaming live out of Mom’s basement.”

Sam cracked a grin. “Yeah, probably.”

“Yeah.” Dean sighed. “Most of those websites wouldn’t know a ghost if it bit them in the persqueeter.”

I giggled, and Sam groaned.

“Ah, grow up, Ol.”

“Oh, come on, Sams, it’s a funny word.”

Sam shook his head with a sigh. “Look. We let Dad take off, which was a mistake by the way, and know we don’t know where the hell he is. So, meantime, we’ve gotta find ourselves something to hunt. There’s no harm in checking this out.”

“Right, right, except that if Olive steps foot in the house she’ll probably die.”

I rolled my eyes again before turning to Sam. “Where do we find these kids?”

“Same place you always find kids in a town like this.”

***

“If she blocks me in, I swear to god.” Dean grumbled as Everett pulled in next to us.

She parked so close that Dean couldn’t open his door. He cursed under his breath, and Sam rolled his eyes as he opened the passenger door. I turned around and smiled at Jinx.

“We’ll be right back, girly.”

“Make sure you leave the windows down for her.” Sam reminded us.

“Alright, come on, De.” I tugged on his sleeve.

“Total bullshit.” He mumbled under his breath.

“I know, I know.” I climbed out through Sam’s side. “You coming?”

He let out a sigh as he climbed out, fixing his jacket.

“You really need to learn how to park, Winchester.”

“Bite me.” Dean spat.

“Alright, alright. Come on.” Sutton pulled her sister along.

Hunter stifled a yawn as he climbed out of their car, pulling a hoodie on.

“Nice dog.”

“Name’s Jinx.” I latched onto Sam’s hand and yawned, too.

“So how are we handling this?” Sutton asked.

“Reporters.” Dean called over his shoulder. “Come on.”

***

“It was the scariest thing I ever saw in my life, I swear to God.” The boy sitting outside tells Sam and Dean.

Dean tries hard not to roll his eyes. He focuses on Jinx instead, who had barked so loud they had to take her out of the car. The little dog is on her side, head on Dean’s shoe. He smiles as she looks up at him and wags her tail.

“From the moment we walked in, the walls were painted black.” The second boy speaks to Everett and Sutton through the serving window.

“Red.” The first boy says.

“I think it was blood!” The girl hisses at Hunter and Olive, who are sitting inside with her.

“All these freaky symbols.” The first boy shudders.

“Crosses and stars.” The boy at the serving window shakes his head.

“Pentecostals.” The boy outside says, and Sam and Dean share a look. Even Jinx tilts her head.

“Whatever, I had my eyes closed the whole time.” The girl smacks her gum.

“But I can damn sure tell you this much. No matter what anybody else says…”

“That poor girl.”

“With the black-”

“Blonde-”

“Red hair, just hanging there.”

“Kicking.”

“Without even moving!”

“She was real.” The girl reassures. Hunter and Olive sigh at each other.

“One hundred percent.” The boy nods at Dean vigorously.

“And kinda hot. Well, you know, in a dead sorta way.” The second boy smirks. Everett and Sutton look at each other, eyebrows shot up high.

“And… how’d you find out about this place anyway?” Sam, Sutton, and Olive ask.

“Craig.”

***

“Just stay separate.” Dean snapped at Everett.

“Relax, jackass.” I hissed as we stepped into the shop.

“Fellas.” The guy at the counter looked up. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Yeah, are you Craig Thursten?” Sam asked.

“I am.” He looked hesitant.

“We’re reporters with the Dallas Morning News. I’m Olive, this is Sam and Dean.” I smiled.

“No way.” He looked me up and down, and I cringed.

He was definitely Dean’s age, if not older. I could physically feel Dean struggling not to take a step forward and shove me behind him.

“Well, I’m a writer too. I write for my school’s lit magazine.”

“Well, good for you, Morrissey.” Dean hissed.

The bell rang, and I turned to see the Richmonds walking in.

“Oh, excuse me.” Craig sauntered to the edge of the counter, eyes honing in on Sutton.

Dean pulled me to stand between him and Sam.

“Can I help you with anything?”

“Oh, no, we’re just looking. Thanks.” Hunter forced a smile as Everett glared, moving to stand in front of Sutton.

I smiled. She and Dean were more alike than they realized.

“So, what can I do for you folks?” Craig came back to us, again staring at me.

“Um.” Sam cleared his throat as Dean stepped ever-so-slightly in front of me. “We’re doing an article on local hauntings and rumor has it you might know of one.”

“You mean the Hell House?”

Dean sighed. “That’s the one.”

“I didn’t think there was anything to the story.” Craig chuckled.

“Why don’t you tell us the story?” I tilted my head.

“Well, supposedly back in the thirties, this farmer, Mordechai Murdoch, used to live in this house with his six daughters. It was during the Depression, his crops were failing, he didn’t have enough money to feed his own children. So I guess that’s when he went off the deep end.”

Sam and I glanced at each other, and he turned back to Craig. “How so?”

“Well, he figured it was best if his girls died quickly, rather than starve to death. So he attacked them. They screamed, begged for him to stop, but he just strung them up, one after the other. And when he was all done he just turned around and hung himself. Now they say that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl that goes inside.” He eyed me again. “I’d steer clear if I were you, Ol.”

Dean’s nostrils flared and I shook my head. “Don’t call me that.”

“Where’d you hear all this?” Dean all but growled.

“My cousin Dana told me. I don’t know where she heard it from. Ya gotta realize, I… I didn’t believe it for a second.”

“But now you do.”

“I don’t know what the hell to think, man. I, I’ll tell you exactly what I told the police, okay? That girl was real. And she was dead. This was not a prank. I swear to God, I don’t wanna go anywhere near that house ever again, okay?”

Dean nodded, grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me away from Craig. “Thanks.”

Hunter immediately went for me, taking me from Dean and throwing an arm around my shoulders. “What’d he tell you?”

I shivered. “Enough to know that it’s probably just a spirit. Simple salt and burn should work. Just have to find where he’s buried.”

Hunter looked over our shoulders at Craig and sighed. “He better not be caught up in this. And he better never look at you like that again.”

I snorted. “I can take care of myself, ya know.”

“I know.” He looked back at me. “And so does Dean. But just in case.”

***

“Can’t blame him.” Sam scoffed as we walked up the muddy road to the house.

“Yeah, so much for curb appeal.” Dean snorted as Jinx tugged at her leash.

“Got an-”

“Yeah.” Sutton cut Everett off and pulled out an EMF reader.

“Come on, let’s circle the house.” Dean reached out a hand for me.

I giggled and took it, swinging our hands back and forth like a little kid. He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t suppress the smile growing on his face. Jinx yapped, pulling us around the house.

“Don’t laugh at me, kid.”

I giggled again. “Sorry. You’re just… so protective.”

He snorted. “You’re not allowed to turn this into a chick-flick moment.”

I smiled. “I love you too, De.”

He rolled his eyes again, this time with a huge grin on his face. “I love you too, sweetie.”

“Hey, De?” I swung our hands again.

“Yeah, pumpkin?”

“Would you ever do that?”

“Do what?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

I looked up at him with puppy eyes. “Mercy kill me.”

He blinked, shocked. He stopped walking, and I had to stop with him. Jinx practically choked on her leash, confused as to why we weren’t still moving.

“Baby girl, I would never.”

A small smile grew onto my face. “Make me fight it out to the end?”

He grinned. “Yeah. Side by side, wouldn’t give you a choice.”

I squeezed his hand and started walking again. “Thanks, De. I wouldn’t mercy kill you either. Couldn’t stomach it.”

“Anything?” I asked Sam as he held the EMF out.

“Yeah. A little bit.” Sam squatted to scratch Jinx behind the ears.

“They won’t be any good.” Dean sighed.

“Why?” Sam and I looked up at him.

Dean nodded up at the powerlines. “I think that thing’s still got a little juice in it. It’s screwing all the readings.”

“Yeah, that’d do it.” I sighed.

“Yeah. Come on.” Dean tugged me back to the front of the house.

“So what’s the deal here?” Everett asked, arms crossed over her chest.

Sam sighed, and Sutton shrugged at him. Did middle children have a way of communicating with each other or something?

“You guys stay out here, make sure Olive sticks with you. Keep Jinx with you, too. We take Hunter in there and make sure we know what we’re dealing with.” Dean instructed as he walked me over to them, placing me between Everett and Sutton.

I sighed. “I still think this is stupid.” I took Jinx’s leash from Dean’s hand.

Dean smiled at me. “I still don’t care.”

“Alright, you ready?” Sam asked Hunter, hand on his shoulder.

I smiled. Sam was a big teddy bear.

“Yeah, I think so.” Hunter nodded as Dean gave him a rough pat on the back.

“Guys.” I called as they began to trudge up the steps.

All three boys turned back, Dean in attack stance and Sam with big puppy eyes. I ran up the steps and threw my arms around each brother’s waist. Jinx jumped around, pawing at the boys’ legs.

“I love you guys.” I whispered into Dean’s jacket.

They both sighed and hugged back.

“We love you too.”

“Be careful.”

“Always.” Sam kissed the top of my head before I backed away, stepping back down the steps.

“Hey, Winchester.” Everett growled.

Dean rolled his eyes. “What?”

“If my kid brother comes out of there with a single scratch-”

“Yeah, same goes for you. I want my baby back in mint condition.” Dean snarled at her.

Everett snorted. “Can’t give her back in mint condition if she’s already a disaster.” She mumbled.

I rolled my eyes. “Just go.”

The boys headed inside the house, flashlights up. I sat down on the curb with a sigh. Jinx snuggled onto my lap as Sutton sat down next to me.

“You alright?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “Don’t like the idea of my boys going in there without me.”

She nodded. “I know. I wasn’t too sold on Hunter going alone, but I know he’s in good hands with Sam and Dean.”

I snorted. “Look, I love Hunter, but I don’t trust him to keep my brothers safe.”

She nodded again. “I get that, too.

I closed my eyes with a huff. Jinx let out a small bark. A floorboard creaked, and I shot to my feet, confused.

“Olive? What is it?”

Another floorboard, and then a giggle. It wasn’t Sam’s, it wasn’t Hunter’s, and it most definitely was not Dean’s. Something that sounded like an EMF meter went off, and I turned to the house. Jinx started to go crazy, barking like there was no tomorrow. A bark turned into a growl.

“Shit.”

“Olive?” Everett waved her hand in front of my face.

“There’s someone else in there.” I tore past the siblings and up the steps.

“Dean?” I hissed, blinking to adjust to the dark.

They didn’t answer, but the same floorboards creaked. I cursed under my breath and went down the hallway. I heard Jinx howl from outside.

“Olive.” Dean hissed, and it came out like a strangled bark.

“What the-”

“Shh.” I cut them off, holding a hand up.

Something in the next room thumped, and the boys looked at each other wide eyes. Hunter went for my wrist, and I pulled away from him, standing in front of the door with my shoulders squared. Sam and Dean looked at each other, and Dean sighed. He looked at me. I nodded, and so did Hunter. Dean busted through the door, and a bright light hit our eyes.

Danger.

Blood began to drip from my mouth, a drop landing on my shoe. I bared my teeth.

“Oh, cut! It’s just a couple of humans.”

My eyes rolled into the back of my head and I threw my head back with a growling scoff. Dean snorted, looking at me over his shoulder. Two guys were standing in front of us, one holding a camera, and the other holding… an EMF meter?

“What are you guys going here?” The one with the EMF meter asked.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean hissed.

“Uh, we belong here. We’re professionals.” EMF meter laughed.

“Professional what?” I asked through gritted teeth, swallowing blood.

“Paranormal investigators.” EMF shoved business cards into Sam and Hunter’s hands.

He tried to give one to Dean, but my older brother only stared with arched eyebrows. He turned to me, and I shook my head, trying to ignore the blood that had made its way down my chin.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Dean groaned.

“Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spengler?” Sam read off the card.

“Hellhounds Lair dot come.” Hunter sighed. “You guys run that website.”

“Yeah.” EMF grinned.

“Oh, yeah, yeah.” Dean nodded. “We’re big fans.”

I closed my eyes, trying to hold back an annoyed laugh.

“And uh, we know who you guys are too.”

My blood ran cold and St. Louis ran through my head.

Dean.

My mouth began to bleed again, and my eyes began to water.

“Yeah?”

“Amateurs.” EMF scoffed, and I suddenly felt lightheaded.

Dean watched me go pale and came to my side, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I leaned into him with a sigh, and a second stream of blood went down my skin. Dean sighed and wiped at it with the sleeve of his flannel.

“You alright?”

I nodded. He gave my arm a squeeze and gestured to Hunter.

“Keep her standing.” He whispered as he handed me off and turned back to EMF and camera boy.

“Gonna be okay?” Hunter asked in a hushed tone.

I nodded again. “I think so. Just a lot of back and forth.”

“St. Louis?” He asked.

I took a breath, closing my eyes. “Yeah.”

“So if you guys don’t mind, we’re trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here.”

“Yeah, and whatcha got?”

“Harry, why don’t ya tell them about EMF?” Idiot One grinned.

I leaned my head back into Hunter’s shoulder and groaned.

“Well…”

“EMF?”

I smiled, knowing Sam was playing dumb and knowing he was biting back a grin.

“Electromagnetic field? Spectral entities can cause energy fluctuations that can be read with an EMF detector. Like this bad boy right here.” Ed flicked the EMF meter on.

Dean turned to me with a shit-eating grin, and I turned my face into Hunter’s neck, struggling not to snort.

“Whoa, whoa! It’s 2.8 mg!”

“2.8. It’s hot in here.”

Dean let out a low whistle, and Sam mumbled something.

“Huh.” Dean huffed. “So you guys ever really seen a ghost before, or…”

“Once. We were, uh, we were investigating this old house and we saw a vase fall right off the table.”

“By itself.”

“Well, w-w-w-we didn’t actually see it, we heard it. And something like that, it uh… it changes you.”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded, a serious look on his freckled face. “We should go, let them get back to work.” He looked over his shoulder at me.

I nodded, feeling sick.

“Yeah. You should.” Ed snipped.

“Sam. Hunter, Olive.” Dean ushered us out the door.

“Yeah, work!” Ed called after us as we made our way down the hallway.

“Why did you run in?”

“Why didn’t you bring a shotgun?”

“Are you gonna stop bleeding any time soon?”

I giggled at Hunter, but Dean cut me short, grabbing me by the waist and throwing me over his shoulder.

“De!” I squealed, hitting his back.

He dropped me in front of the steps of the house and glared at me.

“Why the hell did you come inside?”

I sighed, shoulders dropping. “I heard something.”

Sutton and Everett ran up, Jinx on their heels. She yapped, jumping at the boys.

“I’m so sorry! We tried to stop her!”

“I told you-”

“Stop.” I cut Dean off as he went for Everett’s throat. “Stop, I ran out.”

“Why?” Dean barked at me.

I shrunk back with a flinch, and Sam pulled him back. Hunter grabbed his sisters and dragged them away. Jinx sat at our feet with a whine.

“I could hear them moving inside the house.” I whispered.

“What?” Sam tilted my head.

“I could hear them. The floorboards, EMF’s giggle. The EMF meter itself. I could hear them from the curb, De.”

He sighed. “Okay.”

Sam sighed too. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I was just worried. I wasn’t sure what it was.” I pouted, my head feeling tingly.

They sighed, and Dean brought me into a hug. “I know. It’s okay. Just try to take care of yourself too, baby.”

I nodded, letting my head drop against his chest. “Okay.”

“Go to sleep, Sammy’s got ya.” He gave me a squeeze.

I nodded again. Sam picked me up by the waist and set me on his hip. I yawned and wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Love you.”

Sam chuckled. “Love you too, bug.”

***

“Hey.” Sam sauntered down the steps.

“Hey!” I called Dean as he met us halfway.

“Whatcha got?” He asked.

“Well, we couldn’t find a Mordechai but we did find a Martin Murdoch who lived in that house in the thirties.” Dean let go of Jinx’s leash, and she came running.

“He did have kids, but it was two boys. And there’s no evidence he ever killed anyone.” Sutton finished as Sam picked Jinx up.

“Huh.” Dean huffed.

“What about you?” Hunter asked.

Everett turned back to the cars, and we followed her.

“Well, the kids didn’t really give us a clear description of that dead girl but I did hit up the police station.” Dean sighed.

“No matching missing persons. It’s like she never existed.” Everett shook her head.

“Look guys. We did our digging. This whole thing’s a bust. For all we know, those website freaks made this whole thing up.”

“Yeah, he’s got a point.” Sutton put her hands on her hips.

“Alright. We can split then, I guess.” I shrugged.

Everett grinned. “I’m fine with that. Let’s go!”

“I say we find ourselves a bar and some beers and leave the legend to the locals.” Dean winked.

Sam wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me away from Dean as he made his way to the car. He held Jinx to his chest with the other arm, tucking her under his jacket.

“Wh-”

“Shh.” Sam whispered.

I waved to Hunter and Sutton as Everett started their car. Dean got into the car, and Sam pulled me toward the window with a smile. Dean turned the key, and latino music began to blast. Dean hit the radio, but the wipers began to go off instead. He tore the key out with a jump. Jinx barked, scared.

“What the fuck?”

Sam giggled as he held the door open. I stared with wide eyes as I climbed into the car. Sam licked his finger and marked a ‘one’ in the air before pointing to himself. He got into the car and I inched closer to Dean, still a bit startled. Jinx circled between me and Sam before laying down, and I stared at him. I thought for sure that Sam knew better than to mess with Dean’s car.

“That’s all you’ve got?” Dean gave him a dirty look. “Weak. That is bush league.”

I curled my arms around one of Dean’s.

“Can we go home now?”

He smiled down at me. “Of course we can, sweetpea.”

***

“Hello?” I asked as I flicked my phone open.

Sam and Dean had left me sleeping in the motel room while they went to a diner to pick up dinner. Jinx was asleep at the feet of Sam’s bed. She loved him the most.

“Olive, have the Richmonds left town yet?”

“No. I just got off the phone with Hunter. Everett is asleep and Sutton went out to get them dinner. I thought maybe you guys would run into her.”

“Well, we haven’t. Look, call him back. We missed something. We’ll call Sutton, tell her to meet us back at the Hell House.”

“Okay… De, what happened?”

He sighed. “A girl’s dead.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. We saw her. It was real.”

I sighed again. “Does this mean I’ll have to hold onto your belt loop the whole time?”

He snorted. “You bet your ass it does.”

I scoffed. “Okay. Love you guys. Be careful.”

“Always. You too. Love you.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” Dean made an obnoxious kissing noise before hanging up.

I sighed as I dialed Hunter’s number again. I put the phone between my ear and shoulder as I got off the bed.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Hunt.” I sighed and dug through our communal bag.

I had already changed into my pj’s and shoved my clothing into the duffel.

“What’s up?”

“Look, Sam and Dean said we must’ve missed something. Dean wants you guys to meet us at the Hell House.”

Hunter sighed. “What happened?”

“A girl’s dead, and he sounded agitated.” I put him on speaker and tossed the phone aside.

“Alright. Everett is still out, she’s probably hungover. But I’ll wake her up and make sure she gets ready.”

“Make sure she doesn’t cut your head off.” I tugged off Dad’s old sweater and yanked on a black shirt.

“Haha, very funny. Are those website guys still suspects?”

I pulled on leggings and snorted. “I kinda hope so. I’d love nothing more than to cut EMF freak in two.”

“I still can’t believe you barged right in there without a gun. I’m surprised Dean didn’t shoot you on the spot.”

“Oh, shove it.” I laced my boots up. “Dean loves me. Would never shoot me.”

He snorted this time. “Yeah. Right, sure. Alright, I’ll let you go. I’ve gotta wake Everett up.”

I giggled. “Good luck. See ya.”

“Bye, Ol.”

***

I shushed Hunter as we crouched in the bushes.

“I guess the cops don’t want anyone else screwing around in there.” Sam whispered.

There was a cop car parked on the curb, and they were standing around the porch.

“Yeah, but we still gotta get in there.” Dean sighed.

Somebody else whispered, and I turned to glare at Everett. She wasn’t talking. I looked around, slowly edging out of our hiding spot. Jinx would’ve barked, so we left her at the motel. Lucky for us, she was still sleeping when Sam and Dean picked me up.

“I don’t fucking believe it.” Hunter growled.

“What?” I looked at him, and he helped me move forward without being seen.

The two idiots from earlier. Hunched over, wearing stupid gadgets, whispering and shushing each other. I inhaled to let out a snort, and a hand clapped over my mouth. I looked down to see that it was Dean’s hand, and I licked him. He flinched, pulling me back to sit.

“Ohh, De.” I turned to him with a huge smile. “I got an idea.”

He smiled. “Go ahead.”

I shuffled to rest on my knees. I cleared my throat before cupping my hands to my mouth.

“Who ya gonna call!”

Idiot One and Idiot Two stumbled, confused. The cops spotted them, and began shouting orders. The idiots ran back the way they came, and the cops followed.

Everett chuckled. “Nice move, Winchester.”

I grinned as Sam pulled me onto my feet. We followed Dean up the sidewalk and into the house. We were laughing, and I let out a snort.

“Alright, alright.” Sam tried to quiet us down.

“Everyone settle.” Sutton smiled.

“Okay.” Sam swung the duffel bag off his shoulder and onto the floor. “Olive.” He handed out rifles as he did a head count.

Dean was next to get a rifle, then Sutton. Hunter, and Everett last.

“Where have I seen this before?” Dean shone his flashlight at the walls. “It’s killing me.”

“Alright, come on. We don’t have much time.” Sam called.

He led the way down to the basement. Him first, then Dean, and me, of course, stuck behind Dean. Hunter, then Sutton, and then Everett.

“Oh, look at that. That’s funky.” Hunter pointed at a shelf full of jars.

“Oh, nice.” I strayed from the group and went straight for them.

Dean followed, picking up a red one. He sloshed it around and turned with a grin.

“Hey, Sam. I dare you to take a swig of this.”

“What the hell would I do that for?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

I grinned up at Dean, and he mirrored it.

“I double dare you.”

Sam shook his head with a snort. I looked through the jars, seeing one that looked like it had an eyeball in it. I pushed it away with a groan of disgust. Hunter laughed from beside me, and something thumped in the cabinet in the corner. Hunter stood in front of me and clutched his rifle. Sutton positioned herself behind Sam, and Everett behind Dean. Dean and Sutton’s rifles went up as Everett’s flashlight turned on. Hunter squared his shoulders and glanced at me. I stood on my toes, resting my head against his shoulder. Dean nodded, and Sam yanked the door open.

A few rats squeaked and ran away from the light. Dean groaned and lifted his feet.

“I hate rats.”

“What, you’d rather it was a ghost?” I giggled.

“Yes, actually.” Dean squinted at me.

I dug my fingers into Hunter’s arm as a figure appeared behind Sam.

“Ev!”

“Sams!”

The four older hunters turned around. I shoved Hunter out of the way and cocked my rifle. Mordechai rose an axe above his head, aiming at Sam.

“Duck.” I ordered before taking my shot.

Nothing happened, and I shot him again. Someone else shot at him, and he finally misted away.

“What the fucking hell?” I hissed, running to Dean.

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and looked around.

“What kind of spirit is immune to rock salt?” Sam asked as we moved.

Dean and I ducked behind the shelves of jars, confused. I looked around, trying to figure out what was going on.

“I dunno, but we should get outta here right now.” Everett grabbed Hunter by the wrist and yanked him toward the door.

Mordechai came back, and his axe came down on the shelves. The jars shattered at our feet, and one hit my head.

I crawled out from under the metal as the Richmonds pulled the shelf up.

“Fuck.” I hissed, hand going to the back of my head.

“Go!” Sam shouted as he took on Mordechai. “Get out of here!”

“Hey, cunt!” I screamed, waving my arms and aiming my rifle.

Mordechai turned to me, and I felt my chest clench. He swung at me, and I ducked and rolled. Sam plucked me off the ground as the axe slammed an electrical box. Sparks flew everywhere, and Sam tossed me over his shoulder.

Everett led the way up the stairs, and Sam and I brought up the rear. I yelped as we ran through the hall and out onto the porch. Sutton fell first, and it was a domino effect. I ended up on top of Sam, legs caught under Hunter.

“Ow!” I howled.

My arm cracked as I shifted, and I felt my bones throb.

“Go, go, go!” Sam shouted, trying to untangle himself from the mess.

Hunter rolled off of us and helped me to my feet. I yanked at Sam, then at Dean. Dean grabbed my arm, and I yanked away with a yelp. Idiot One and Idiot Two were standing there, camera on us.

“Get that fucking thing outta my face.” Dean smacked them away.

“Go, go, go!” Sam shouted.

“Sweet Lord!”

“Of the rings! Run! Go!”

“Come on.” Hunter grabbed my hand and yanked me along with him.

***

“Hey, baby girl.” Dean shot up from the bed as I opened the door.

“Hi, Deano.” I smiled.

“How you feeling?” Sam looked up from his laptop.

I shrugged a shoulder. “Fine. Hurting, but fine.”

Sutton sat down next to Sam as Everett shut the door. “She’s gotta take these for the pain, and the cast has to be changed in a month, maybe two. You’re gonna have to be on top of her doctor’s appointments, because Dean’ll forget.”

“Hey!” Dean scoffed. “I would never forget about my baby’s health.” He turned to me. “C’mere.”

I sat down next to him with a huff. Jinx padded over to my side and gave me sad eyes.

“My arm is itchy.”

He laughed. “Sorry, Babes.”

“Can you sign it?” I looked up at him with puppy eyes.

He smiled and nodded. I pulled out a sharpie and handed it to him. He threaded his fingers through mine and signed his name onto the plaster.

Dean Michael Winchester, written in ugly, scratchy handwriting. Below that, Olive, my baby. I love you so much. Sorry your arm broke 🖤🖤

“So, what’ve we got?” Hunter asked, sitting on the couch.

“Not much.” Sam scratched the back of his neck. “Haven’t really started.”

Everett scoffed, and Sutton shot her a look.

“We were worried about Olive!” Sam defended himself.

“What the hell is this symbol?” Dean groaned, picking up a pad of paper from his side. “It’s buggin’ the hell out of me. This whole damn job’s buggin’ me. I thought the legend said Mordechai only goes after chicks.”

“It does.” Sam snorted.

I pulled out my laptop and started it up. I stood and stretched, groaning at the dull pain in my arm.

“Alright. Well, I mean that explains why he went after Olive, and you. But why me?” Dean leaned back.

“Hilarious.” Sam rolled his eyes. “The legend also says he hung himself but did you see those wrists?”

“Yeah.”

“What about them?” I asked as I got onto the Idiot2 website.

“They were slit.” Sam threw his head back with a groan.

“That doesn’t make sense.” I scrunched my nose up and settled next to Hunter.

“The axe doesn’t either, actually.” He noted, throwing an arm over my shoulders.

“I mean, ghosts are usually pretty strict, right? Following the same patterns over and over again.” Sam sighed.

I made a grabby hand at him, and he moved to sit on my other side.

“But this mook keeps changing.” Dean scoffed.

I got onto the and refreshed the page on Mordechai Murdoch. “Okay, the story definitely said… wait a minute.” I blinked. “What the fuck?” I asked, turning my laptop to Sam.

“What?”

“Read.” I pointed.

Dean looked up at me with an eyebrow raised.

“Someone added a new post to their site. Read it out loud, Sams.

“They say Mordechai Murdoch was really a Satanist who chopped up his victims with an axe before slitting his own wrists. Now he’s imprisoned in the house for eternity.” Sam squinted.

“What the hell?” Everett tilted her head.

“I don’t know. But I think I might’ve just figured out where it all started.” Dean tossed aside the pad of paper.

***

“Hey, Craig. Remember us?” Dean asked as we sauntered into the shop.

He looked up with a sigh. He looked depressed. The Richmonds followed us in.

“Guys, look. I’m not really in the mood to answer any of your questions, okay?”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Dean waved him off. “We’re just here to buy an album, that’s all.”

He flicked through a stack and picked one out. I eyed it and looked up at him with a smile.

He was a genius.

He slung an arm around my shoulders and walked us toward the counter. “You know, I couldn’t quite figure out what the symbol was, and then I realized that it didn’t mean anything. It’s the Blue Öyster Cult logo.” He turned to Craig. “Tell me, Craig. You uh, you into BOC? Or just scaring the hell outta people?”

“Why don’t you tell us about the house again?” I narrowed my eyes.

“Without lying through your ass this time.” Dean pulled a bitchface.

Craig sighed. “Alright, uh… my cousin Dana was on break from TCU. We were just bored, looking for something to do…” He sighed. “So I showed her this abandoned dump I found. We thought it would be cool to make it look like it was haunted.”

Hunter snorted from behind me.

“So we painted symbols on the walls, some from albums, from Dana’s theology textbooks. Then we found out this guy Murdoch used to live there, so we… we made up some story to go along with that. So we told people, who told other people. And then these two guys put it on their stupid website. Everything just took on a life of its own.”

Sutton squinted, and Everett mumbled something to her.

“I mean, I thought it was fun at first, but… now that girl is dead, and… it was just a joke! Ya know, I mean… none of it was real. We made this whole thing up. I swear!”

“Alright.” Sam spoke softly.

“Okay.” Everett pulled Sutton and Hunter along.

I sighed and looked up at Sam. “If none of it was real, how the hell do you explain Mordechai?”

Sam looked at me and shook his head. “I dunno.”

***

“Wake up, pumpkin.” Dean’s voice broke me out of my sleep as he rested a hand on my hip.

I groaned as I rolled over onto my back. “What?”

“Hey, I’m back.” He called out to Sam, who was in the shower.

“Hey, where were you?” Sam asked as the water turned off.

“Picking up orange juice for Ollie.” Dean winked at me as he sat down next to me.

I yawned as I sat up. I smiled at him and threw my arm around his neck. He laughed and hugged me back, pressing a kiss to my head.

“Thanks, De. I fucking love orange juice.”

He chuckled. “I know.”

“So Ollie might have a theory about what’s going on.” Sam called out.

“Yeah?”

“She still asleep?”

“Just woke her up.” Dean brushed my hair back.

“Yeah, what is Mordechai is a Tulpa?” I asked.

“Tulpa?” Dean repeated.

The door opened and Sam came out, hair dripping wet and a towel around his waist. I closed my eyes with a scowl on my face. Dean turned too, a bit grossed out. Jinx tilted her head at us, and I giggled. She was like a little human, only confused all the time.

“Put on some clothes.”

Sam picked up a pillow and threw it at me. It hit my juice and I pouted as it spilled over.

“Dean!” I whined, throwing my head back against the wall.

He took the cup and grabbed a few tissues, wiping the juice off my hand. “Sorry, Babes. Sam, don’t be a dick.”

“Just… Tulpa.” I hissed at Sam.

“Yeah, a Tibetan thought form.”

“Ah, yeah, I know what a Tulpa is. Hey Sam, why don’t you get dressed. I wanna grab something to eat. I gotta take a leak.”

I laid back down and pulled the blanket over my head. “Wake me up when we’re ready to go.”

***

“There you go.” The server put six coffees on the counter.

“Thank you.” Dean and I smiled as we took the cups and walked back to Sam and the Richmonds.

Sam was grimacing and trying to fix his pants. I cringed, and Dean eyed him.

“Dude, what’s your problem?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” Sam brushed him off.

“You sure?” I asked as I sat down next to him.

“Yeah.”

“Alright, keep going.” Dean took a seat. “So, these Tulpas?”

Sutton looked up and sighed. She took her coffee and yawned. Hunter leaned forward on his elbows and yawned. Everett put her head in her hands.

“Okay, so there was this incident in Tibet in 1915. Group of monks visualized a golem in their head. They meditated on it so hard they brought the thing to life. Outta thin air.” Sam glanced at his computer.

“So?” Everett raised an eyebrow.

“That was twenty monks. Imagine what ten thousand web surfers could do.” Sutton scowled at her sister.

“She’s right. Craig starts the story about Mordechai, then it spreads, goes online. Now there are countless people all believing in the bastard.”

“Okay, wait a second. Are you trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordechai, he’s real?” Dean’s nose scrunched up.

“I dunno, maybe.” Sam shuffled again.

“People believe in Santa Claus… how come we aren’t getting hooked up every Christmas?”

“Because, Dean, you’re a horrible person. And because of this.” Sutton turned Sam’s laptop toward us.

One of the symbols from the Hell House was on his screen.

“Lemme guess, that’s the Tibetan spirit sigil?” Hunter asked.

“On the wall of the house?” I added.

“Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology textbook. I bet they painted this, not even knowing what it was. Now that sigil has been used for centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass.”

“So people are on the Hellhounds website, staring at the symbol, thinking about Mordechai… might be enough to bring a Tulpa to life.” I shrugged.

“Would explain why he keeps changing.” Dean sighed.

Sam shuffled again. “Right, as the legend changes, people think different things. So Mordechai changes.”

“Like a game of telephone.”

“That would also explain why the rock salt didn’t work.” I sighed.

“Because he’s not a traditional spirit.” Dean frowned.

“Yeah.” Sam fidgeted again.

“Okay. So why can’t we just, uh…” Everett pinched the bridge of her nose. “Get this spirit sigil thing off the wall and off the website?”

“Well, it’s not that simple.” Sutton shook her head. “You see, once Tulpas are created they take on a life of their own.”

“Great. So if he really is a thought form…” Dean scowled. “How the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?”

Sam began to move again.. “Well it’s not gonna be easy with these guys helping us. Check out their homepage.” He nodded toward Sutton.

Sutton hit something on his laptop and a video started to play. I groaned. It was the footage from last night. The Richmonds crashed down the stairs, followed by a crumbling Dean, and Sam. Me, crashing to the ground, Hunter over my feet, me shouting as my arm snapped.

“Since they’ve posted the video, their number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone.”

I tensed. “De, if anyone recognizes you…” I sighed. “We’re screwed.”

“Hmph.” Dean’s lip curled up. “I got an idea. Come on.”

“Where are we going?” Sutton asked as Dean stood.

“We gotta find a CopyJack.”

I got off my stool with a yawn. Hunter followed, and Sam wiggled as he got to his feet. He grumbled something to Dean, and Dean only laughed. Sutton and Everett looked over their shoulders, confused.

“You did this?” Sam asked.

Dean only laughed harder.

“You’re a fucking jerk.” Sam hissed at him.

“Oh, yeah.” Dean grinned.

I rolled my eyes. Sam and Dean went for me at the same time, and I ducked away, pacing myself with Hunter. Sam blinked sadly, and Dean stuck his tongue out at me. I stuck mine out back.

“Brat.”

“Prick.”

***

Dean pounded his fist on the door of the trailer.

“Who is it?” Idiot Two asked.

“Come on out, guys. We can hear you in there.”

Jinx let out a little growl, and I bit back a smile.

“It’s them!”

The door opened and they stuck their heads out.

“Ah, would you look at that. Action figures in their original packaging. What a shock.” Dean snorted.

“Guys, we need to talk.” Sam sighed.

“Yeah, um… sorry guys. We’re ahh, a little busy right now.” Idiot One shuffled.

I slammed my hand against the door as he tried to shut it. “Okay, well we’ll make it quick. You need to shut down the website.”

“Man, you know, these guys got us busted last night, spent the night in a holding cell…” He laughed.

“I had to pee in that cell urinal. In front of people! And I get stage fright.”

“Why should we trust you guys?”

“Look, guys. We all know what we saw last night, what’s in the house.” Everett crossed her arms over her chest.

“But now thanks to your website there are thousands of people hearing about Mordechai.” Sutton rested all her weight on one hip.

“That’s right, which means people are gonna keep showing up at the Hell House, running into him in person.” Hunter dead-panned.

“Somebody could get hurt.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Ed, maybe he’s got a point. Maybe…”

“Nope.” Idiot One shook his head. “We have an obligation to our fans, to the truth.”

“Well I have an obligation to kick both your little asses right now-”

“Ev, Ev, hey, hey, hey, just forget it, alright.” Sutton pulled her back. “These guys…” She sighed dramatically. “Probably bitch slap them both, we could even tell them that thing about Mordechai, but they’re still not gonna help us.”

“Sutton’s right. Let’s just go.” I sighed, readjusting my grip on Jinx’s leash.

“Yeah, he’s right.” Dean sighed as we began to walk away.

“What’d you say about…”

“Hang on a second here.”

“What thing about Mordechai?”

“Don’t tell em, Sutton.” Hunter begged.

“But if they agree to shut down the website, guys…” Sutton trailed off.

“They’re not gonna do it, you said so yourself.” Dean sighed.

“No, wait. Wait. Don’t listen to him, okay? We’ll do it. We’ll do it.” Idiot One stepped out of the trailer.

“Look, it’s a really big deal, alright? And it wasn't easy to dig up. So only if we have your word that you’ll shut it all down.” Sutton leaned in.

“Totally.”

“Alright.” Sutton nodded at Dean.

He pulled a few papers from his jacket.

“It’s a death certificate. From the thirties. We got it at the library. Now, according to the coroner, the actual cause of death was a self-inflicted gunshot wound.”

“That’s right. He didn’t hang or cut himself.” Dean added.

“He shot himself?”

“Yep.” Sam nodded. “With a .45 pistol. To this day they say he’s terrified of them.”

“Matter of fact, they say if you shoot him with a .45, loaded with these special wrought-iron rounds-”

“It’ll kill the son of a bitch.” Dean cut me off.

Idiot One snatched the paper, and Idiot Two smiled.

“Alright, we should head out.” Hunter grabbed me by the wrist and tugged me away.

Sam and Dean followed. Everett spat on the step of the trailer, and Sutton smacked the back of her head before walking away.

***

Hunter: be safe. sorry we had to abandon you guys

I smiled as I typed back a response.

Olive: we always do great without you guys anyways. just don’t get yourself killed

Hunter: will do

The Richmonds had left town. A case that seemed like werewolves had popped up in Oklahoma, and we were the closest hunters around. Dean was determined to take Mordechai down, so Everett decided they’d peel out. I yawned as I leaned against Dean. He wrapped an arm around me as he reached up. I watched as he pulled the cord on a mechanical fisherman holding a large fish. The fisherman’s mouth moved and an obnoxious laugh played. Sam yanked on the cord, and the laugh stopped.

“If you pull that string one more time I’m gonna kill you.” Sam promised.

We had been sitting in the cafe for the last two hours, and Dean had pulled the cord so many times that I would have nightmares about the laugh. Dean blinked, deadpan. He maintained eye contact with Sam as he pulled the cord again. Sam’s hand immediately went back up and he stopped it. He glared at Dean. I yawned again, this time snuggling further into Dean’s side. I wanted to go back to the motel, take Jinx for her nightly walk, and go to bed.

Dean snickered. “Come on, man. You need some more laughter in your life. You know, you’re way too tense.”

Sam only gave Dean another dirty look. Dean sighed, and I huffed.

“They post it yet?”

Sam spun his laptop around to us and began to stab at his salad, angry.

“We’ve learned from reputable sources that Mordechai Murdoch has a fatal fear of firearms.” Dean read off the scream.

“Alright, so how long do we wait?” I asked.

“Long enough for the story to spread and the legend to change.” Sam spoke with a hand over his mouth. “I figure by nightfall iron rounds will work on the sucker.” Sam swallowed and reached for his beer.

I grinned and grabbed my glass of juice. Dean lifted his own and the three of us tapped our drinks together.

“Sweet.” Dean grinned before taking a long chug.

A smirk grew on Sam’s face and I shrunk into Dean’s side. He was up to something. Dean put his bottle down, but it stuck to his palm. My eyes widened as Sam broke into a cackle and Dean stared at his bottle, confused.

He looked up at Sam. “You didn’t.”

Sam laughed harder and held up a bottle of super glue. “Oh, I did!”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Bitch.”

“Jerk.” Sam wheezed.

“Oh my god, you’re both fucking pricks!” I hissed, pulling away from Dean. “Why do you always have to go so far?”

“Why are you mad at me?”

“Because now I’ll have to rip that bottle off of his hand!” I groaned.

“Ollie, it’s okay.” Dean held his other hand out.

I scowled, smacking it away. “Get up. There’s some acetone in the car.”

Dean sighed. “Okay.”

***

“Okay, come on.” Dean shut the trunk and led us up the porch steps.

He cleared his throat, and I put my back to his. I was left without a flashlight. A gun with one hand was risky, but I was a good shot, and Dean wanted me to be able to protect myself. We started with the hallway. Dean readjusted his gun with a hiss.

“I barely have any skin left on my palm.” He groaned.

“I’m not touching that line with a ten foot pole.” Sam snipped back.

Dean stopped us in our tracks and shone his light in Sam’s face. Sam winced and turned away. Dean, satisfied, moved into another room.

“So. You think old Mordechai’s home?” He whispered.

“I dunno.”

“Me either.”

The three of us jumped, guns pointing at the noise. I scowled. Idiot One and Idiot Two.

“You fuckers.” I growled.

“What are you trying to do, get yourself killed?” Sam hissed.

“We’re just trying to get a book and movie deal, okay?” Idiot One whined.

A sound like knives being sharpened came from the basement, and I cringed as I readjusted my grip on my gun.

“Oh, crap.”

Sam and Dean shot them identical looks as they crowded us, camera on.

“Ah… you guys, you wanna… you wanna open that door for us?” Idiot One asked.

“Why don’t you?” Dean spat over his shoulder.

Mordechai burst through the door with the same axe from before. He let out an other-wordly shout, and I shot first. Sam and Dean shot over my shoulders, shooting until they were out of rounds. Mordechai stared at us, and then disappeared again. My chest clenched as we waited. He was gone. Dean stood in front of me and nodded for us to follow him into the next room

There was a thud in the next room, and my phone began to buzz in my pocket. I flicked it open, seeing that it was Hunter.

“What?” I hissed as Sam put his back to mine and Dean ran back to the idiots.

“Their server crashed.”

“What?” I repeated.

“Their server crashed! Nobody got the story. Guns won’t do shit! You guys gotta get outta there!”

I blinked, then grabbed Sam.

“Dean!” I shouted. “Guns won’t work!”

“Great.” He growled as we ran back into the room.

“Any ideas?” I asked Sam.

“We are getting outta here.” One of the idiots grabbed the other as they broke into a run.

They pushed past Dean into the other room. We paused as they screamed. They ran back to the front, trying to get the door open.

“Jesus Mary and Joseph!”

Mordechai came after them, and Idiot One began to scream.

“Hey!” Sam called. “Come and get it, you ugly son of a bitch!”

Mordechai attacked Sam, pinning his axe against his neck.

“Get out of here, now!” He ordered.

Danger.

“Sammy!”

“Come on!” Dean grabbed me by the hand and yanked me along. “We gotta burn the place down!”

“But Sam!”

“Ol-”

“Sammy.” I whined.

“Ollie.” Dean grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. “Sam’s in danger, you’re scared.”

I nodded. “Sam.”

“Use that. Get that door open, get to the car, get kerosene.”

I shut my eyes and heard Sam yelp. My teeth began to ache, and I spit blood out. Dean turned me by the shoulders and gave me a squeeze. I let out a grunt as I kicked the door. It didn’t move. Sam yelled again, and I let out a scream as I went at it with my shoulder. It splintered off its hinges.

Jinx was going mad in the backseat of the car, circling and barking and growling. She saw me coming and stuck her head out the window, letting out a howl.

I went for the car, was careful to flip open the trunk, and yanked out the gallon of kerosene. I ran back into the house, and Dean took the container away from me, pouring it on every possible surface. My mouth was throbbing, and I heard Sam from the next room.

“Dean! Olive!”

“Hey!”

I turned to see the Richmonds running up the steps, spray cans in hand. Hunter tossed me one. I grunted as I tore off my sling and went through my pockets. I flicked on my lighter, letting the flame catch. I threw the can onto the floor and went for Sam. A growl ripped through my throat, and Mordechai disappeared. Sam fell.

“Come on!” I pulled him off the floor.

Dean helped me get him to his feet. Sam grabbed his throat and coughed.

“What are we doing?”

“Improvising.” Sutton grabbed Sam’s arm and tugged it over her shoulders.

Everett flicked her lighter on and threw it into the other room. Flames went up, and Sutton helped Dean yank Sam out of the house. I hissed as someone bumped into my arm. Hunter dragged me out of the house, and Everett was the last to follow us out.

“This is your solution? Burn the whole damn place to the ground?” She scowled at Dean.

“Well nobody will go in anymore. I mean, look. Mordechai can’t haunt a house if there’s no house to haunt.” He huffed. “It’s fast and dirty but it works.”

I sat down on the front lawn and groaned, holding my arm. Hunter took his flannel off and fashioned a sling out of it. I was too tired to try and stop him.

“What if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?”

“Well…” Dean sighed.

“Then we’ll just have to come back.” I spoke through a mouthful of blood.

Sam plucked me off the ground and set me on his hip with a sigh. I hissed, spitting over his shoulder.

“Kinda makes you wonder. Of all the things we hunted, how many existed just ‘cause people believed in them. Right, bug?” Sam asked.

I nodded. Dean helped me control it inside. Pushing me in the right direction, telling me what to do. It helped. Sam would keep me awake afterwards. It was draining, and I was so tired, but I needed to be ready for the day my brothers wouldn’t be there to carry me to the car right afterwards.

“You guys came back.” I whispered, staring at Hunter.

He smiled, and Sutton sighed. Everett only rolled her eyes.

“You guys would’ve done the same for us.”

Dean snorted as he pulled out the car keys. “Like hell we would’ve.”

I sniffled. “Can we go now? My arm hurts.”

Sam grinned as he gave me a squeeze. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

***

“Why are we here?” I asked with a yawn.

Jinx circled at Sam’s feet before finally laying down in the shade of the picnic table. Dean grinned as Idiot One and Idiot Two came along with arms full of grocery bags.

“Gentlemen. Lady.” Idiot One nodded his head at us.

“Hey, guys.” Sam smiled.

I couldn’t help but grin. He was so polite. Such a sweetheart. A big teddy bear. I blinked. My pain meds were making me loopy.

“Should we tell them?”

“Hey, might as well. You know, they’re gonna read about it in the trades.” Idiot One scoffed.

“So this morning, we got a phone call from a very important Hollywood producer.”

I smiled, leaning into Dean’s side. “Oh yeah, wrong number?”

“No, smart-ass. He read all about the Hell House on our website and wants to option the motion picture rights. Maybe even have us write it.” Idiot One spoke as they loaded the groceries into their car.

“And create the RPG.”

Dean blinked. “The what?”

“Role playing game.”

“Right.” Dean nodded, lips pursed.

“A little lingo for you.”

“Anyhoo, excuse us. We’re off to lala land.”

“Well, congratulations guys. That sounds really great.” Sam smiled.

“Yeah. That’s awesome, best of luck to you.”

“Oh, yeah. Luck. That has nothing to do with it. It’s about talent. Sheer, unabashed talent.”

We looked around at each other and nodded. Idiot One threw up a peace sign.

“Later.”

They got into their car and drove off.

“I have a confession to make.” Sam turned to me with a huge grin.

“What’s that?” Dean turned with a smile.

“I uh… I was the one that called them and told them I was a producer.” He scratched the back of his neck.

I giggled, and Dean threw an arm around my shoulder. “Yeah.” He laughed. “Well, I’m the one who put the dead fish in their backseat.”

I giggled again, and the boys broke into laughter.

“Hey, boys?” I looked up.

“Yeah, bug?”

“What is it, baby?”

I gave them puppy eyes. “Truce? Please?”

They sighed and looked at each other. Sam shrugged, and Dean nodded.

“Yeah, truce.”

“Truce.” Sam smiled.

“At least for the next hundred miles.” Dean winked as he got up.

“Let’s go home.”

Previous Ep: Shadow (1.16)

Next Ep: Something Wicked (1.18)

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brothersapart · 4 years

Note

Prompt: Can we see Sam and Dean from the Brothers Together universe at Dean’s high school graduation (and basically Sam’s too since he helped so much)? :D

Way in the back of the class, Dean Winchester couldn’t help but fidget impatiently while he waited for it to be his turn to approach the stage.

Mary Winsor gave him a look, and asked him in a know-it-all tone that he knew all too well, “What bee flew up your ass?”

Dean had long ago learned that comparing her name to his mother’s was not the best way to go about getting a date, and knew it was she was a lost cause as far as he was concerned, as soft as that matte black hair looked like it would be under his fingertips.

He sent her a flat glare back. “What, don’t tell me you enjoy standing out here in hundred degree weather?”

Mary sniffed and turned away, looking back towards the podium.

The names had gotten all the way through to the S’s, but that still left quite some time until Dean was called. The one small accomplishment he nursed was that he would get his diploma before Mary, who had her nose stuck so far up in the air that–

Dean’s thought process was interrupted by a small voice in his ear, a familiar one that had been by his side for years.

“It’s almost our turn!”

The excitement in Sam’s voice was enough to melt Dean out of his annoyance, and he couldn’t quite hide a grin. “You bet it is, Sammy,” he muttered under his breath, making sure that the others around him wouldn’t overhear what he was saying.

Dean had never expected to make it far enough through school to graduate with a diploma (and honors, as Sam liked to remind him repeatedly), but here they were. In a few short minutes, Dean would be saying goodbye to this chapter in his life and they would be free.

If it wasn’t for Sam’s persistent help and encouragement, Dean knew that he would have succumbed to his father’s expectations, and thrown more effort into what they called ‘the family business,’ hunting and helping their dad save people.

This was more Sam’s graduation than Dean’s, and he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

When Dean’s name rang out through the field, he tilted his chin up, matching the look that Mary had on her face, and he strode to the podium. It was with some pride that he accepted the diploma and shook hands, a glow of warmth spreading through his chest.

As he walked back to his spot in the graduates, Dean knew that it didn’t matter that their dad had missed this day. All that mattered was he could go through it with Sam.

#brothers together #prompt #graduation #sam winchester #dean winchester #oh man sudden inspiration #where'd it come from #mary winsor #oc #she's got long black hair #as straight as can be

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team-free-will-oneshots · 5 years

Text

Beneath the Stars

Title: Beneath the Stars Request: Hi I was wondering if you could do a sam x reader where they’re on a hunt and to stop the monster they have to burn the place they are down and the reader gets trapped in the building and maybe even under some debris and Sam has to rescue them like partly angst partly fluff I just love your writing and wanted to see how you would take this on thnx ❣️ - @supernatural-02 Pairing: Sam x Reader Warnings: fire?? some descriptions of injuries/pain?? some angst?? but with fluff as well. and maybe some mild swearing but i can’t really remember Word Count: 3,619

note: so this turned out a little longer than i expected, but i hope you like it! thank you so much for the request! also i’m super duper tired tonight so i won’t be completing any ship requests tonight - I’ll work on them tomorrow! :)

“So, get this - turns out O’Connor was cremated,” Sam declared, eyes glued to his laptop screen. You frowned, glancing up from your own research, whilst Dean scoffed in the corner.

“Great - what the hell is he attached to, then?” Dean muttered. “The dude was loaded, had estates all over the country - why is he here? Just sayin’, if I was a ghost, I wouldn’t be sticking around this piece of crap town if I could be in a mansion in LA.”

Sam rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair and loosening his tie. As he and Dean began to bicker, you turned back to your laptop, continuing your research of the history of the house in question. It wasn’t spectacular - an abandoned two storey in rural Kansas, home to businessman Ross O’Connor, who died in “suspicious circumstances” in his own bed in 2014, aged forty. He’d been the last known resident of the property, and all seemed well until a few months ago, when interest was displayed in gentrifying the area. Every real estate agent who took on the house turned up dead a few days later, and what little evidence the three of you had managed to collect pointed you in O’Connor’s direction.

Your eyes skimmed the page, burning and strained from the blue light. While Sam and Dean had been in their FBI getups procuring as much intel as they were able, you’d been in the motel researching every lead they sent you. Their voices faded into the background now, nothing but a faint irritation as the words on the screen seemed to melt together. Your head hurt, and you vaguely wondered if you’d remembered to eat today. Sighing, you pulled away from the screen, slamming the lid shut.

“I’ve got nothing,” you declared. “I’m hungry, I’m exhausted, my head’s killing me. How about we head to bed and pick this up tomorrow?” you suggested, and the boys sighed, nodding their assent. As Dean headed for the shower, you laid on your bed, pressing your hands over your eyes in an attempt to block out the glaring fluorescent light. Stars bounced across your vision from the pressure, sparkling blue and yellow and red as they danced over your closed eyelids, lighting up the darkness as your eyes complained against your fingers. You felt the bed dip and glanced up to see Sam sitting at its foot. He offered you a small smile, though his eyes were warm with concern.

“Hey, you okay?”

You sighed. “Fine. I just feel like I’ve hit a wall,” you muttered, and the corner of his mouth twitched in sympathy.

“We’ll get there - we always do,” he assured you, moving to lay down next to you. You nodded, curling into his side as his arm circled your waist.

“Yeah, I know, but… it’s not just with the case. This, hunting, it’s all just… what are we working towards, Sammy? It’s not like we’re ever gonna get rid of all the monsters, so… what’s even the point?” you mumbled. Sam sighed, kissing the top of your head.

“Yeah, I know. But… we’re helping people, Y/N. Once we finish this case, who knows how many lives we’ll have saved?” he asked.

“Sure, I guess… and then they’ll gentrify this place, up the real estate prices, then rich people will kick all the poor people out. How’s that for helping people?” you scoffed. “It doesn’t make sense - this O’Connor guy, wouldn’t he be all for that? Everything I’ve read about him makes him seem like a total dickwad who let money get to his head. I’m just not seeing any motive for preserving that stupid house,” you said, and Sam frowned.

“You’re right, it doesn’t make any sense,” he said slowly. “And what Dean said earlier… he’s got a point. What is there here that this guy is attached to? He only moved here a month before he died. Nothing in this case is making any sense. Maybe we’ve got it wrong,” he mused. You made a noise of discontent.

“Well, we can work that out in the morning,” you mumbled. “I’m exhausted.”

Sam smiled sympathetically, rubbing your back as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You leaned into his warmth, his hard chest a far more appealing surface than the thin motel pillow. Your eyes fluttered as you struggled to keep them open, finding yourself focussing on the stars just visible through the tiny motel window. One thing had to be said for finding yourself in the middle of nowhere, even amidst the frustration of an unsolvable case - at least you could see the stars, see whole galaxies stretching across the sky, beautiful and glimmering and free. The stars faded into darkness as your eyes fell shut.

“Get some rest,” Sam urged, moving to run his fingers through your hair. “I love you,” he reminded you, and you smiled sleepily, burrowing your face into the crook of his neck and placing a soft kiss to the warm skin.

“Love you, too.”

---

It was barely 8 o’clock when Sam’s phone rang - another death. He sighed, alerting Dean as the two of them donned their FBI gear. You settled back in bed, computer in your lap as you continued to research. When Sam and Dean returned a few hours later, you glanced up hopefully, only to be met with downtrodden expressions and a heavy atmosphere that threatened to crush any flickers of hope you still held.

“No luck?” you asked, and Sam shook his head, shedding his jacket and collapsing next to you, glancing over your screen helplessly. You could smell the fresh air still clinging to his hair and clothes, taste the sweetness of the countryside on the breeze that crept inside when the door opened. His skin was flushed from the midday sun.

“Nope,” he affirmed. “How about on your end?”

You sighed. “Nothing.”

“Maybe we’re in over our heads,” Dean suggested glumly. “The amount of deaths must’ve dropped the place’s value by now - they’d be stupid to try and sell it now.”

“Dean!” Sam said sternly. “Those people - they had families, they deserve some kind of justice. Besides, someone might try to buy it in the fu-”

“Families…” you murmured, and Sam and Dean both glanced at you quizzically. You ignored them, brow creased and fingers hovering over your keyboard before you started typing frantically. Article after article arose, and you skimmed them quickly before searching past records. Slowly, the puzzle pieces fell into place. Sam and Dean’s trained their perplexed stares on you, but you hardly noticed - finally, it made sense!

“I’ve got it!” you declared. “Ross O’Connor - no record of him predates 1993. So, I did some digging… turns out, his name’s really Ross Miller. When he was nineteen he had a big blow up with his parents, moved out, even changed his name,” you informed them. Dean’s brow creased.

“So? What’s that have to do with the case?”

“I’m getting to that! So, I looked back at all the past owners of the house, and saw that the last owner before Ross was a woman named Carol Miller - must be his mother. House had been in her family since the fifties.”

Sam’s eyes lit up, and you kept talking. “Get this - Carol died of a heart attack, and six months later, her disowned son comes back into town and declares ownership of the house.”

“Okay… so, what, she left it to him in her will?”

You shook your head. “Nope - apparently, she left him out of her will entirely. He claimed he was forgotten, found himself a good lawyer, and must’ve had enough of a case to snag the old family home. I was right about what I said last night, about Ross being the kind of guy who’d want to make money out of the place. Looks like he was staying there while he helped sort out the finer details of a sales contract - he was the one who set up the plans to gentrify the area. But before it could go through…”

“He turns up dead under suspicious circumstances!” Sam finished, and you beamed, nodding.

“Yep! And wanna know the cherry on the cake? In an interview back in ‘08, Ross was asked about his family and said he and his parents had some disagreements over some property developments he’d proposed - I’m willing to bet that, as an aspiring young businessman, he saw the house might be of value and tried to get his mother to sell it-”

“Hence the blowout,” Sam murmured, and you nodded.

“So, what? His mum’s the spirit we’re looking for?” Dean demanded, and you nodded again.

“Yeah, I think so!”

“Great! Well, let’s just get to the cemetery and-”

“Yeah, that’s the thing - she was cremated too,” you said, eyes scanning your screen as you read the information to the boys. Dean groaned.

“Great. Perfect. So we’re in exactly the same place as before-”

“Not quite,” Sam objected. “Obviously the house was important to her - I wouldn’t be surprised if she was attached to it,” he remarked, and you nodded quickly.

“Exactly! So… what, we salt and burn the whole house?” you asked. Dean’s whole face brightened, and he closed his eyes, quietly pumping his fists in the air.

“Yes!” he hissed. “Flamethrower, here I come!”

---

“I can’t believe we’re actually committing arson,” you whispered, adrenaline levels high as the three of you snuck under the police tape and headed to the house, concealed beneath the cloak of night. It was almost two am, your only company the scattering of stars and the chirping of the crickets. Sam chuckled.

“Y/N, we’ve literally dug up graves and burned the bodies,” he reminded you.

“I know, I know, but this just feels different! Like, we’re literally burning down a house!” you exclaimed, and Sam chuckled again, the sound interrupting the sloshing in the gasoline can that was tight in his grip.

“I still can’t believe we’re not using the flamethrower,” Dean muttered, and Sam rolled his eyes as he picked the lock to the back door, ignoring his brother’s grumbling.

“Okay, she’s not going to go easy - everyone have iron bullets?” Sam checked as the door swung open. You nodded, hand finding the gun at your waist as you spread your fingers over the cold metal.

“Alright, let’s go,” Dean confirmed. “Y/N, you go to the attic, Sam, second floor, I’ll cover ground,” he said, reiterating the plan the three of you had established in the warm safety of the motel. The words sounded different now as the night’s chill bit at your skin and whipped at your face, stealing the whispers from your lips and swallowing them into the shadows.

The three of you slunk into the house - Dean began to scatter salt and gasoline as you and Sam headed upstairs. You finished the attic quickly, heading down to help Sam finish off the second floor. Once the house was saturated, you held the box of matches.

“Okay. You get out, I’ll light up the house as I go down,” you told him. Sam frowned.

“I’ll stay with you - just to be safe.”

You paused, but nodded. Couldn’t hurt. You lit the first match, and that was when the ghost appeared.

She charged towards you, screaming in anger and managing to throw you into the staircase. You cried out, losing your hold on the match as Sam shot her with an iron bullet. She disappeared, but you knew it wouldn’t be for long.

“Let’s go!” Sam yelled, helping you quickly to your feet as you lit a match and tossed it to the attic. It caught quickly, and you were halfway down the stairs when you tossed another lit match on the second floor. It, too, caught quickly. You were readying your third match when you got to the bottom of the stairs, only to find a wall of flames licking up the hardwood floors and heading rapidly towards you.

Shit - the match you dropped earlier. This was bad.

You saw Sam’s jaw tense and his body stiffen as he scanned the situation, calmly planning your escape. His hand found yours, and you let yourself breathe - mistake. Smoke choked your lungs and you coughed, lifting your shirt to hold against your nose. Sam was quick to copy you, dropping your hand as he did so.

“This way!” he said, shouting over the flames now - the floor above you was starting to collapse, smoke obscuring your surroundings as the flames crackled and ate at the walls, the roof, the floor, chewing through the furniture and quickly heading towards the exits. You nodded, following him as he weaved through the flames, eyes focused solely on the front door - the only exit left.

The windows to your left blew out, raining shards of boiling glass over the two of you. Some found your skin, and you swore as you shook it off, struggling to breathe even through the cloth of your shirt. Your hair was plastered to your scalp as sweat seemed to gush from your pores, and your eyes stung from sweat and smoke as you tried to keep up with Sam. But your boyfriend had long legs and a clear eye on the exit, while the smoke billowed over your head and blocked out most of your vision. You could feel yourself getting lightheaded, and when the edge of your jacket caught aflame, the few seconds it took for you to stamp it out were enough for you to lose sight of the youngest Winchester amongst the chaos.

“Sam!” you cried, choking on the smoke that snaked into your lungs. You coughed hard enough that you fell to your knees and retched, blindly screaming for his help, for Dean’s, for anyone.

That was when the ghost appeared - she was burning up, but while the house still stood, so did she. Though her power was fading, her anger made up for it ten times over, and suddenly a beam from the roof was crashing to the ground - right on top of your leg.

You screamed as your calf snapped beneath you, collapsing to the ground as searing pain raged past your knee and up your thigh. The flames greedily licked up your surroundings as the smoke continued to clog your lungs. You couldn’t breathe - you were choking and retching and your throat and nose burned with the acidity of vomit, and you were trapped.

You felt a rush of cool air, and you looked up - there was a gaping hole in the flaming roof, and amidst the blaze, you caught sight of the night sky, a glimpse of navy amongst the orange inferno. The flames leapt into the blackness, and you half expected them to burn it away, to watch the sky fold in and crumple like a burning piece of paper. But it stood steady, and as your vision began to fade and your lungs relinquish their fight, you couldn’t help but think how beautiful the stars were tonight.

-----

Sam was already outside when he realised he was alone.

He collapsed onto the grass, pressing his hot, sweaty face against the cool as he panted, gulping lungfuls of fresh air.

“We made it!” he cried. “Y/N, we-”

He paused, forcing himself to turn around. “Y/N?”

His stomach dropped as he saw the empty space behind him, and watched the building go up in flames.

“Sammy!” Dean’s voice rang through the air, and he appeared from the other side of the building, coughing and covered in ash. “Are you hurt? Where’s Y/N?”

“They-they were right behind me!” Sam stammered, and before Dean could stop him, he was back on his feet and sprinting into the burning building, Dean’s shouts echoing behind him. The smoke was worse up high now, but he still managed to pick his way through the burning debris, heart pounding against his ribcage as he held his shirt - drenched with sweat - over his face.

“Y/N!” he screamed, his heart almost giving out as he caught sight of you, unconscious and trapped under a fallen beam, leg splayed awkwardly beneath it. “Y/N!”

---

The stars were beautiful tonight. Beautiful, glimmering, free. You danced among them, enveloped in their warm glow as they swam playfully around you. They chased you, gleaming and laughing, and the more you ran, the warmer you became. You fell - you could feel yourself sweating, and suddenly you were gasping for air.

And then the stars were falling. You could feel them landing on your skin, like cool, tiny droplets that warmed too quickly in the thick air. Their laughter turned to screams and you felt them smother your face with something hot and damp. Your leg seared with pain, and as the stars fell away, your eyes fluttered open.

“Y/N!” Sam was screaming, voice rapidly coming into focus, and suddenly your whimsical imaginings were just that. The stars falling on your skin were none other than Sam’s tears, or sweat, or a combination of the two. You coughed, realising that Sam had ripped your sooty, sweaty shirt and was holding it over your mouth as he held up his own shirt with his free hand. “Y/N, thank god!” he yelled. “Come on, let’s get you out!”

You could see his muscles strain as he struggled to lift the heavy beam that had trapped you beneath its weight, but he could barely lift it a centimetre off the ground. Your head swam and your chest was tight, but it was a little easier to breathe lying down, close to the floor - probably the only reason you weren’t dead quite yet.

“Sam, it’s no use!” you managed to choke. “Get out of here!”

“No, nonono!” Sam yelled, grunting as he used all his weight to try and shove the beam away from you. It began to give, and you screamed as it’s movement tugged on your broken leg.

“Sammy, you have to go!” you cried, but your words were drowned out by his angry shouts and the roaring of the flames. The beam moved again, and suddenly Sam’s arms were looping around you and lifting you up against his chest. Your leg screamed in protest, and your eyes rolled back into your skull.

---

“They’ll be alright,” a gravelly voice murmured. “I’ve healed the worst of their wounds - but they must rest.”

“Thank you, Cas.” You recognised Sam’s voice, laced with stress and gratitude as it mellowed into a sigh. You felt a hand on your forehead, fingers brushing the hair from your face, and slowly, you blinked.

“Y/N!” Sam exclaimed, voice heavy with relief. “How do you feel? Are you okay?”

You swallowed tentatively. Your throat was raw, and you weren’t sure your nose would ever be free of the stench of smoke, but you found yourself nodding.

“You-you idiot,” you managed to cough, forcing yourself into a sitting position despite Sam’s frantic protests. “You should’ve left me! You could’ve died!”

Sam chuckled dryly. “I’d never leave you - not to that,” he told you, his thumb running gently over your cheek. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes and holding his hand to your face.

“Yeah, well, you’re still an idiot,” you grumbled, and he laughed, genuinely this time, as he kissed your forehead.

“That’s fine by me,” he managed, and you found yourself smiling despite yourself. You pulled away and saw that your hands and clothes were covered in soot and ash, and still sticky with sweat. The motel bed beneath you creaked when you moved, and the blankets were hot over your legs. You kicked them off, marvelling as you realised your leg was healed. You knew of Castiel’s abilities, but when he used them to heal you, it was always disconcerting - injured one minute, completely fine the next.

“You shouldn’t have gone back,” you murmured again, wincing as you saw the traces of a burn peeking out beneath Sam’s sleeve. It was baby pink with tender new skin, still soft and delicate. Cas’s mojo wasn’t what it used to be - but even so, it had saved your life. And probably Sam’s, as well, if he’d inhaled half as much smoke as you had.

“Of course I went back,” Sam whispered, leaning his forehead against yours. You saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, licking his dry, cracking lips still covered in ash as he hesitated, his next words catching in his throat. “When I was in the cage… one of Lucifer’s favourite torture devices was fire. It was the worst- worst pain I’ve ever felt. I could never let that happen to you,” he said thickly. You managed a sympathetic half smile - even after all these years, Sam’s time in the cage still haunted him. He didn’t like to talk about it, so the fact that he did now was enough for you to drop your guard.

Your hand found his, and you squeezed it lightly.

“Well… you saved me,” you whispered, your lips grazing his cheek. He crawled in the bed next to you, his arms circling your waist and holding you close to his body. You nuzzled into his chest as he squeezed you almost uncomfortably close, but you didn’t dream of complaining.

When you finally pulled away, you found yourself distracted once more by the stars. Not the ones behind your closed eyes, nor the ones set into the night sky, still visible through the tiny window. No, not those, not this time.

Sam smiled, a breathless smile so full of relief and of love, and as your gaze met his…

You found the stars in his eyes.

__________

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