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shinestarhwaa · 12 hours ago

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CLIMBING A MOUNTAIN || SAN

PART 1 OF THE YOURDESIRE.COM SERIES

Genre: Smut

Pairing: San x Fem reader

Word Count:3.8K

Tags/Warnings: Sexworker!AU, Sexworker!San, dom!San, strength kink, creampie, praise, orgasm control, bath sex, aftercare, handjob, oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, riding, doggystyle, dirty language, petnames, bigdick!San

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @vesvosmozhno @therealcuppicake @unholywriters @enbymingi @jjoongstar

ENJOY!

A bottle of wine on a late Saturday night combined with the internet might be certain to lead to trouble. Or a lot of pleasure. You're not entirely sure yet which is the case. It was supposed to just be an innocent scroll through your socials but when you landed on a special Twitter account that got your attention, you stopped. You stared at the username for a while, seeing the header and reading the bio. 'Yourdesire.com', it said, which made your heart flutter ever so slightly. The account was full of pictures and videos of handsome men acting seductively and almost pornographically. No, definitely pornographically.

Curiosity got the best of you, and you placed your laptop on your lap and googled the website. You quickly learned it was a company that provided sexual services. Those men are sexworkers, you concluded. Something inside you told you to close the tab and mind your own business but you felt so intrigued you couldn't help but explore the website a little more.

Soon enough you click on the blue ''Our men'' button and you are met with 8 gorgeous individuals posing sensually. You scanned each of them, noticing that they are all different-looking, some are much taller, some are buff and some have the most filthy looking gaze you've ever seen before.

It's not that you're entirely new to sex; you have done it before. But because of certain circumstances you haven't been dating much and therefore you haven't gotten laid in way too long. Maybe hiring a gigolo was the perfect way to get your needs taken care of, while not having to go out to meet somebody to date.

You scroll down the page and look at the pictures of the guys. Without thinking much more you click on the first man's profile.

Hongjoong - 1998 - Dominant

View Hongjoong's kinks/specialties list.

You released a breath you didn't know you were holding after reading his kinks/specialties list. You swallow thickly and scan the others' pages until you land on San.

San's image makes him look cold, stern, even strict maybe. His body is certainly well taken care of. You could only imagine what it's like to touch his toned, muscular body. He has broad shoulders, big arms and defined abs. His eyes are small and his bone structure is absolutely to die for, his lips full and soft-looking.

When you read about him you learn he identifies as a Dominant, but he's the most gentle and caring one of them all - he values women a lot and wants to provide a setting where he can rock their world but also make them feel safe. This made you smile softly, a warm feeling spreading through your body. It wouldn't do anyone any harm to look further, would it? You decide it won't so you click on his profile.

San - 1999 - Dominant

View San's kinks/specialties list:

Strength kink

Creampie

Orgasm Control

Voyeurism

Bath-/Shower sex

Voyeurism

Aftercare

You could feel your pussy pulse after reading about him and you took another sip of your wine. Before you realized it you were looking at the prices of hiring one of their men and the kind of experiences they offer. You kept telling yourself 'No, don't do it, it's ridiculous', but two glasses of wine later you booked yourself a dinner- and hoteldate with San for next Saturday.

The next morning you realize what you've done, looking at yourself in the mirror. ''I must have gone completely insane,'' you mutter to yourself, but you can't bring yourself to cancel the appointment either. The rest of the week you are filled to the brim with anxiety about it and your friends notice something's off. ''It's just my cycle, I guess, you know, hormones,'' you lie, but it works for them.

When the day finally arrives you have no clue what to wear, because what does one wear on a sexdate with a sexworker? You decide to not do much with your hair, letting it fall loosely on your shoulders. You keep your make-up light and put on a darkred lingerie set. 'It's nothing special, but pretty enough for a date' you convince yourself. After about 30 minutes of trying on different clothes you end up wearing a long, fitted black dress since your friends always tell you, you look absolutely snatched in it. And well, they're not wrong. You finalize the look with black heels and some accessories before grabbing your purse, leaving your house.

Your body is shaking while you drive to the hotel. You wonder if your friends would judge you for doing this. Would they think this is weird? Is this actually weird? You know there's no turning back now, since you can't cancel 10 minutes beforehand. With slight shame you look into the rearview mirror and look into your own eyes. There's no turning back now, you realize, you have to own it and enjoy it.

With a partly fake confidence you enter the hotel and enter the luxurious lounge, where you are supposed to meet San. You look around and the place is absolutely gorgeous. Dark floortiles reflect the large amount of lighting on the walls and ceiling. You see businessmen left and right, looking seemingly rich and equally busy with their calls. You wonder how many of them were also hiring a sexworker.

Suddenly you feel a light tap on your shoulder - to which you turn around. ''Miss Y/N?''

You felt your heart stop beating at that very moment, because holy fucking shit, the most handsome man on earth is standing right in front of you. ''Hi, it's nice to meet you, I'm San,'' he says with a kind smile. You shake his hand and nodd, still a little in shock. ''How did you know it was me?'' you wonder out loud. He grins softly. ''Because while discussing the arrangement you had to clarify what you look like and I've seen the photo. Although I have to say you're even more attractive in real life, if that's even possible.''

Everything about San was breathtaking, from his looks to his way with words. ''Let me guide you to our table, I hope you're hungry, the food is lovely here,'' he says with a gentle smile, and he carefully lays his hand on your lower back. You nodd and let him guide you to the table, where he takes place across from you.

After placing your order he looks you up and down. You're feeling slightly nervous, and he quickly picks up on it. ''Is this your first time having an appointment like this?'' he asks. ''Is it that obvious?'' you grin nervously. ''A little, but don't worry, it's completely fine. All I care about is that you're comfortable with me, then we're all good.''

San definitely succeeded in making you comfortable throughout the dinner date, he asked questions about you - not just sexually - and made sure to listen intentively. He occasionally flirted with you and held your hand and it was almost impossible not to fall for him. He was incredibly charming and even cute sometimes.

Since the dinner was paid beforehand, San took your hand and guided you to the elevator. You felt slight anxiety bubble up in your chest, but you pushed it down. San had been so great and gentle with you, you felt like you could definitely trust him.

Now you're standing in the elevator, all alone and suddenly the tension rises. The hand on your back slowly slides down over your ass and you feel his hot breath fan over your neck. ''I can't wait to feel you, darling, I'll make you feel so incredibly good.'' Goosebumps erect from your skin and you swallow thickly. You nod, because that's all you can do when San smirks slightly.

The elevator reaches the 4th floor and you enter the room that was reserved for you two. It was much fancier and bigger than you expected. You first see a large kingsize bed, covered with gorgeous luxury bedding, there's a small lounge and the half-open bathroom where you find a shower and a large walk-in bath created in the floor as if it was a hot spring.

''Wow,'' you sighed softly as you placed your purse on the bedside table, ''It looks absolutely incredible, don't you think?'' ''It truly does, it's gorgeous,'' San says, ''it suits you.'' He gently strokes your rosy cheek with his fingers as he sits you down on the bed.

''You've established you're interested in performing all my specialties, excluding the voyeurism, is that correct?'' San asks, sitting next to you. ''Yes,'' you nod, ''it's not like I'm against it but I haven't had sex in a long time and I just... I need some time.'' San chuckles at your shyness and strokes your hair caringly. ''You don't have to explain yourself to me, dear. Any way, if at any time you want me to pause or stop, tell me and we will pause or stop. Do you have any more questions?'' You shake your head. ''Please use your words with me, dear, I need verbal clarification.'' You shake your head again, muttering a soft ''no''.

''Perfect, let's get started then, dear.''

He pulls you a little closer and lifts up your chin with his fingers. ''Can I kiss you, Y/N?'' ''Yes, please,'' you say, leaning into him. San presses his lips to yours in a smooth motion. His lips are soft and his movements tender, but the grip of his hand on your upper thigh is firm, enough to slightly startle you.

You moved your arms around his neck as he laid you down on your back. His hands roamed over your thigh, down to your calf and ankle. San pulls away from the kiss and you pant softly, looking at him with full anticipation, your mind dizzy. He gently kissed your ankles before slipping off your heels. His hands move up again, along your hips and your sides, stopping to cup just underneath your breasts.

''You look so delicious angel,'' he grunts as he presses kisses over your chest and the top of your breasts. He helps you get up before he unzips your dress. You feel the way it slides down your legs and pool at your feet. You feel much more vulnerable now, noticing he's still fully clothed.

''I wanna see you too, San,'' you pant softly when you feel his lips in your neck, sucking on your skin gently. ''You wanna see me, baby? You got it.'' He smirks as he takes off his jacket, waistcoat and slowly unbuttons his white shirt, revealing his toned abs. You sit down and feel your throat go dry at the sight of his sculpted god-like body.

''How's that baby? Does that look like something you can get used to?'' he smirks. ''God, yes, definitely,'' you sigh, before laying your hands on him. When you place your hands on his abs you realize his cock is already half-hard. The desire to suck a man off has never been stronger than tonight, but San seems to have other plans as he gets on his knees in front of you.

His skilled fingers trail up your thigh and curl around the fabric of your panties, yanking them down and tossing them to the other side of the room. ''Look at that, what a perfect pussy,'' he praises as he settles himself between your thighs. Instinctively you try to close your legs out of embarrassment, but San is unbelievable strong and he keeps them parted.

''Don't you want me to play with that pretty pussy of yours, angel?'' ''N-No, I do, I really do, please,'' you cry out when you feel his breath fan over your sensitive wetness. When San's mouth makes contact with your sex you throw your head back and moan. He's literally 3 seconds in and you're already so disheveled.

His fingers skim over your thighs while his lips close around your sensitive bud, giving it a few soft sucks and kitten licks to test you. Even the feather-light touches are driving you crazy, and you think if he doesn't start to properly eat your pussy you'll go absolutely feral. ''Please, San, please,'' you whine out.

''Okay baby, don't worry, you don't have to beg, I'm here for you, angel, you're doing so well,'' he smiles before diving between your legs again. San starts to lick your sensitive clit, leaving small kisses across your sex, before diving his tongue in again, and God you could feel him everywhere.

You felt tingles throughout your body, your entire being responding to San pleasuring you. You're starting to think that stumbling on Yourdesire.com was the best thing that could've ever happened to you, just from his oral alone. It makes you wonder if he would fuck you as good as he eats you.

You let out nothing but loud moans, not having to fake anything, just letting all your inhabitions go. For the first time in your life you felt truly understood, truly taken care off. ''That's it, that's so fucking good,'' you whimper. He' takes his time's thorough with his work, every flick and twist of his tongue feeling deliciously good and evil all at once.

San took his time - unlike most men would - and spent over 10 minutes between your legs before finally pulling away and regaining his breath. San looks somewhat disheveled himself when he pulls away, looking pleased and fucked out just from eating your pussy for a while.

You feel his fingers skim through your folds before pushing two of his digits inside. You whine when he fingerfucks you with slow strokes, curling his fingers just right. He pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy that's gushing with arousal. With every stroke you feel yourself come closer to an orgasm, and San quickly seems to pick up on that.

''That's it baby, you're doing so well for me, are you gonna come for me? Come on my fingers?'' he taunts. You nod and cry out his name, ''S-San! G-God, yes!'' ''Alright princess, I'm going to count down and you're gonna come at one, am I clear?''

You nod again, but you feel like you could burst at any moment, pussy clenching with each thrust of San's fingers. With all the willpower you've got, you hold on, waiting for San to count down.

''Three...,'' he taunts, looking deeply into your eyes as he keeps fingering your wet hole, ''Two...,'' he says, lingering for a moment before coming down to the last number. ''One,'' San says, and in that exact moment your body releases, an enormous wave of pleasure washing over you, making your body tremble uncontrollably as he rocks you through your climax. ''That's it, that's a good girl...'' he whispers as he calms you down. San retracts his fingers and licks them off to clean them, looking at your fucked out state with a content smile.

He stands up and discards his remaining clothes and as you're starting to escape your high, you remember to take off your bra too, leaving both of you completely naked. You eye San up and down, eyes trailing from his toned torso to his bulky thighs and his crotch.

His cock is so thick, heavy balls hanging underneath as it stands up proudly against his stomach. ''Wow,'' you breathe out. San smirks as he comes closer, and you sit up, eye-leveling his cock. You lick your lips before running your hands up and down his muscular thighs.

''What do you want angel? Want me to make you feel good again?'' ''I want you inside... I want you on your back, and I wanna get on top of you,'' you pant. ''Well, that can be arranged, darling,'' he says as he takes place on the bed, laying against the soft, fluffed pillows.

You straddle San and spit in your hand before taking his stiff cock in your hand. You pump it up and down a few times, not because he's not hard enough but because you desperately wanted to touch him before taking him in. San grunts when you jerk him off faster and flick your wrist every now and then. ''That feels so good baby, you're so perfect, so perfect for me,'' he moans.

After letting go of his shaft you hover your pussy above it. With a loud moan you let him fill your tight pussy up completely. His hands hold your hips steady as you start to grind and roll your hips against him. You let out a shaky moan as his cock drags along your walls - still sensitive from your orgasm.

The pleasure quickly becomes too much and as your body gets weaker, San pulls you close against his chest and kisses you. Your lips move together in perfect harmony, swallowing each others moans as you keep grinding on his cock, his pelvis crazing your sensitive clit.

San starts to move his hips along with yours and fucks up into your pussy, earning loud whines from you against his plush lips. San's thrusts become rougher but keeps a steady pace, knowing just how to make you go crazy. He can feel your pussy clench down on his dick and he pulls away from your mouth, moaning out a string of curses.

''You're taking my cock so well, princess, God damn, your pussy's so well behaved huh? Squeezing my cock just right, you want me to come inside you, hm? I'll fill this pussy up with my cum, make it look so pretty and white. Bet you'd like that, hm? Isn't that the perfect reward for my pretty girl?''

All you can respond are merciful pleads and shards of his name. Your breathing becomes so uneven and you feel yourself getting close again when he reaches places no one has ever reached before. His hands grip your ass tight as he drives his cock inside you. ''I can feel you're about to come baby. Hold it, Hold it like the perfect girl you are, hm? Hold it for me baby, just a little longer,'' he orders you.

You try your best, you try so hard to hold on, keep yourself from coming while he fucks you into oblivion. Lucky for you he says the word ''Come,'' and you burst instantly, crashing onto his chest you scream his name and writhe, your orgasm taking over your entire body. With a few more thrusts he empties himself inside you, filling you up with his hot cum.

''That's it, angel, slow breaths, good girl,'' he says as he slows down and then lays you beside him. He gives you a moment to calm down and drink some of the water from the mini fridge before he gets up.

''Where are you going?'' you ask him. ''Follow me, darling,'' he says with a smile, reaching out for your hand. You hold his hand and stand up, legs wobbling as he takes you to the bathroom. You could feel the mixture of his and your own cum trickle down your inner thigh, but decided not to say anything.

The both of you walk down the steps and enter the hot bath that was ready for you. You hum softly when your body gets absorbed by the nice, warm water, feeling more relaxed instantly. San pulls you closer by your hips and pulls you in his lap as he sits down. You feel his half-hard erection slide between your asscheeks, and he groans. ''Oops,'' you giggle.

San smiles and shakes his head, ''You're so cute and sexy, my princess, you know that? I'm having an amazing time with you, you've been taking it all so well, haven't you?'' he praises you. You feel San's lips on your skin, pressing soft kisses over your shoulders.

''Hm, I'd say so, yeah,'' you giggle, grinding your ass back on his cock once more. ''Hm, was it not enough, my angel, does your pussy need a good fucking again?'' He asks, his voice low. San's cock hardens again and you feel him grinding himself between your cheeks. ''Hm, yeah, you should take me again, San, as a reward~'' you say playfully. San definitely can't say no to that, so he orders you to lean on the edge of the bath. You obey him and push your ass up as much as you can for him.

He pumps his dick a few times before sliding it into you with ease. ''God, you're so perfect, taking me instantly,'' he grunts as he leans on you. You feel the heavy weight of his body on yours and moan. You've always loved a strong man, and you love the feeling of having one on top of you.

San holds you in places as he ruthlessly fucks into you. You try to move as you whimper out his name, but you can't go anywhere. San's got you trapped under his body, holding you so tight there's no possibility of escaping. You whine as you try to hold onto him, overwhelmed by his hard thrusts, abusing your hole and making you feel good at the same time.

''Good girl, that's it, taking it perfectly angel,'' he moans, quickly chasing his own release. San fucks you at a pace you're sure is inhumane, and you can't do anything else but moan, moan loudly and let the entire hotel know how insanely good you're being fucked.

With one more rough thrust he combusts, releasing inside of you a second time that night. When he pulls out he lays you on the edge of the tub and makes you spread your legs. He watches your pretty pussy covered in his cum, and rubs your clit just as ruthlessly as he fucked you. You moan loudly and uncontrollably as San gets you to your fastest orgasm you've ever experienced.

After calming down and drying yourselves up San holds you in his arms as you lay on the bed. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear as he playfully nibbles on them. You love laying in his embrace, taking in his warmth.

''Thank you,'' you breathe out eventually. ''My pleasure,'' he smiles, ''it's my job, but I've certainly enjoyed this.'' You grin. ''I'm glad you did, I loved it too. I definitely needed to just get pleasured again by someone else. It was perfect. And worth every penny,'' you smiled.

After cleaning up and getting dressed you gave San one last kiss before saying your goodbyes. As you drive home he keeps playing on your mind, but your mind also wanders to the other men on the website. Would they be able to pleasure you just as much? How different would they be? You suppose there is only one way to find out...

#shinestarhwaa #kpop #ateez #smut #san #choi san #san x fem reader #ateez ot8

93 notes · View notes

zepskies · 1 day ago

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Aww thank you, lovely friend!! 🥹💕 I tried my best to end this series with a bang lol, but also in a hopefully satisfying way that ties up the most important loose ends. I canNOT wait to dive into your thoughts on the grand finale!!

well, what a start! the action scenes were playing so vividly in my head, i loved all the details <3 and mato being a good son-in-law! love to see it 🤣

Ooh I'm so glad the action was gripping and vivid enough for you!! I don't love writing action scenes because it can be a lot of moving parts, but I try my best to make sure certain details stick out. And yesss Mato is on his A game now actually working with Dean! loll

felt a variety of emotions with this lol. sammy!!! i had a feeling he'd hear the commotion, so glad he's back!💓 (by now i think i've established my love for sam pretty well. 😂) i felt a bit confused too because cas what are you doinggg 😩 hopefully playing chess or something. 🤔 and it makes me sad that sam lost his hat, but his horse!!🥺 i'm not sure if it was his personal horse (like dean's baby) or not, however they shared a journey together :') wherever he ended up, i hope he's alright 💕

Oh I don't blame you loll. 😅 The "wtf?!" feeling with Cas was very intentional, even with the "yay!" of Sam being back in the game (even though he lost his hat and horse 🥲). But your instincts are right -- both of them were definitely playing chess on that one. I'm actually glad you wondered if it was Sam's personal horse because it's a thought I had and wondered if I should include that detail. In my head it wasn't his personal horse, but like you said, still a horse he shared a journey with. 💙 Though I also didn't specify this in the chapter, Cas/the soldiers took possession of Sam's horse, but he got him back afterwards (in the aftermath of it all).

phew 😅 also i cannot stop picturing the colonel from kfc every time sanderson gets mentioned 😭 white suit and all, the image won't leave my head loll

ahahaha yesss that's exactly what I was picturing, with Asmodeus's punk ass. 😂😂

absolutely beautiful <3 may he rest peacefully :(

Aw thank you for highlighting that line and Tahatan's dying words -- def one of my favorite lines for this entire series honestly.

i still don't like him but i will admit, this made me chuckle a little 😂 i really feel for mila and her people. it's just so unfair to be uprooted from your home like that :( and of course that grimy gremlin would go back on his word. the anxiety of it all 😩

Otaktay's redemption arc is slow on this one lol but I liked giving him that throwaway line. 😂

Oh yes, I drew historically from the "Trail of Tears" in American history, where the Native Americans/Indians were forced from their lands and they had to travel onwards to find new territory. It's a dark time that tends to be glossed over.

Yuuup gotta have our "bad guy goes back on his word" moment! 😅 If you've ever seen the movie Prince of Egypt, it's like that moment when the Jews are being chased after by the Pharaoh Rameses after he initially released them from slavery.

awwwww hell yeah i know that's right dean!!!😭🤍

hahaa YES! Dean's made his choice. 😌

ah yes that delicious pre-established relationship danger and peril angst, my hearttt 🥺 i love them sm<3

That moment where there's no time for goodbye, knowing you mind not see your loved one again. 🥲

i will admit this made me giggle 😭 I'm so sorry dean lmaoo :') the fight scenes were so cool though!! again, very vivid in my mind. didn't expect the otaktay save, but i'm glad he's gained some sense. and oh jack, i am glad he was spared but he fr just needs to distance himself from the colonel and his bs 🤠

ahaha I thought it was kinda funny too, ngl. 😂 Aw yay!! I'm so glad you enjoyed the fight scenes and that they felt vivid in your mind! Otaktay did step up, didn't he? Some new respect is brewing between him and Dean (finally), and you're very right loll. Jack just needs to go home and start a new life. Same with Cas and Benny tbh. 🥲

this was so cute 🥺 i was worried for her, but once again we see she's just as strong as she is stubborn loll

Oh yeah, Mila's still as tenacious and stubborn as ever! lol Pregnant ladies still kick ass, amirite? 😘

period benny. goodbyeeeeee and good riddance colonel 💅🏽 Šóta choosing peace was so mature of him, i'm glad he's not being so hotheaded anymore. completely understandable though given all that has happened.

Right?!! 😂 Begone, bitch~

And Šóta is finally maturing -- his father's death hit him hard, and he's learning what it takes to be a true leader. 💜

crying. just the sweetestttt 💞💞 to no one's surprise, i'm so glad sam decided to stay longer 🤣💗 given the circumstances i'm not sure how often he would be able to visit once he returns to his city civilian life, but at least for now he gets to spend time with his brother and good people -- family :3💘

Sam wants to stay with his bro as long as possible now that he's found him, especially for his nephew's birth. 🥹 And for that reason too (not knowing if he'll be able to visit again, or if so, how often). Family indeed! 💞💞

this had me meltinggggg 💓 they're going to be the sweetest parents. they're already so sweet to each other, i can't 🥺

You know, I did intend to stop here with Mila and Dean, but maaaaybe I'll have to come back to see how they're doing as parents and pillars of their tribe. 😏💓

sobbing. i love them so much, this was the most beautiful ending 💕 another wonderful series zep!!🤍:)

Omg thank you so much, Julia!! You don't know how wonderful it's been to get your support on this very niche little series that I didn't know if anyone would even want to read. 🥹 I always appreciate your input, but especially on The Honorable Choice/Outlander series. 💕

Outlander - Part 4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC

Summary: Dean Winchester has been stripped of his military rank, but he’s living happier with his new wife, trying to adjust to a new life in her tribe. What will it take for her people to accept him, especially when the battle for her heart might not be completely won?

AN: Happy Birthday, Dean Winchester!! 🥳 Now, the actual grand finale…

Disclaimer: I first got inspired to write The Honorable Choice for @jacklesversebingo after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (with a tinge of Yellowstone in the mix). I’ve done a fair bit of research for this now ongoing series, both on the Native American Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s; AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 6K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Protective Dean, survival situations, blood and violence, angst, fluff, and spice.~

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 4: One People

Dean straps on his bow and arrow, but first he takes up his gun from his thigh holster. Then he saddles up Mato and climbs up on his back.

The horse is raring to go, and for once he responds to the firmness of Dean’s tone and trusts him enough to obey his commands.

Šóta, Otaktay, and the other men do the same with their horses. Soon, they’re thundering down the hill into the village.

It’s already chaos.

Dean recognizes the blue uniforms of the U.S. Cavalrymen tearing through tipis and shooting with rifles and revolvers. They must’ve tracked Šóta and his men back to the village.

Men and horses are the main targets, but women and children are getting caught in the crossfire. Šóta purposefully knocks his horse into an officer who had his weapon aimed at Misae and her two daughters. Otaktay guides them in the opposite direction, pointing the way to escape into the forest.

Dean rides onward through the village. He and Mato leap over fallen bodies and horses, and Dean shoots at an officer who would’ve shot him first. He has to be careful with his bullets though. He only has two left.

He fights his way to the center, all the while searching for any sight of Mila’s dark hair. It’s almost impossible to see with so many people running and screaming and fighting. But when he hears a familiar voice, Dean cuts to an abrupt stop.

Chief Tahatan rides his horse, white and dappled black. He wields an ax as the horse rears up on his hind legs and lets loose a powerful bray. Just ahead of him is Colonel Sanderson, flanked by Benny and another officer. The Colonel holds a rifle poised in his hands.

“Stop!” Dean shouts.

He rides hard towards the scene. He takes aim with his gun, and he shoots. The bullet clips Sanderson in the shoulder. Yelling in pain, he recoils from the force of the bullet and misses his shot.

Dean’s just not fast enough.

The Colonel’s bullet ricochets off the ground and hits Tahatan’s horse. The animal whinnies and buckles, and he brings Tahatan down along with him, rolling onto his side and crushing the Chief’s legs and most of his torso under the horse’s weight. Dean hears the crunch of bone as the Chief utters a stifled grunt.

Gritting his teeth, Dean brings Mato to a short stop in front of the Chief. Dean aims his gun at the Colonel. By now, the man is clutching his bleeding shoulder and staring at his former captain in disbelief. Benny is maybe a little less shocked to see Dean, but there’s conflict in his eyes—happiness mixed with turmoil.

The other officer is Jack Kline. He recognizes Dean too, with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

“You…” Sanderson trails. He blinks, his brows furrowing. “Dean Winchester.”

Other officers come to join him, both on their horses and on foot. A few of them have wrangled women and their children, along with a few men. One man is dragging Mila along by the arm, even though she pulls and struggles against his hold. He has a long, jagged cut over one closed eye that streams with blood, and Dean doesn’t have to wonder how it got there. The man holds Mila’s own knife to her throat.

Dean’s heart falls into his stomach as he meets her gaze. Hers is angry, until she finds him. Her brown eyes are relieved and hopeful, but then worried for him. Dean reads it all there. He knows her face as well as he knows his own.

“Now this is what we call an interesting development,” Sanderson says, dragging Dean’s attention back to him.

Dean only feels moderately better when Šóta, Otaktay, Chatan, and a couple of the other men come to flank him on either side. Weaya manages to shuffle away from the officer at her back, just to go to Tahatan. He’s still lying there under his horse, breathing shallowly. Šóta itches to climb down from his horse and go to his father, but he can’t allow Dean to stand on his own.

“Apparently your death has been greatly exaggerated, son,” Sanderson says. He glances at Benny, who wears a grim, guilty frown.

“I’m not your fucking son,” Dean says, his voice laden with grit. His hand tightens on his raised gun.

Sanderson tsks at him while Jack wraps a rag tightly around his arm to help stem the bleeding. Afterwards, he adjusts his blue jacket and his Stetson.

“Is this really how you’ve been living for all these months? Like a dog, sleeping in the thatch with the fleas,” he remarks as he glances around. But his gaze stops on Mila. His brows crunch together as recognition dawns in his eyes.

“Ah, now I see why,” he says. He reaches for his pistol at his belt and points it at Mila, like it’s merely an extension of his hand. Dean’s jaw clenches. Chatan and Šóta become even more tense; their horses shift in place, picking up on their riders’ unrest. Sanderson notes their reactions, and finally Dean’s too.

“Instead of putting this savage bitch down, you took her for yourself, didn’t you?” Sanderson wonders aloud. His face breaks into amusement, as his deep chuckle echoes in the clearing. “You threw it all away. A promising career, your respect as a man, and even your life. A traitor to your goddamn country. And for what?”

His thumb pulls back the safety on his revolver.

“Enough, you bastard. You deal with me,” Dean tersely demands. He slowly lowers his gun, and his last bullet. “Let her go. Let them all go, and you can have me. Court martial me. Hell, put me in front of a firing squad, or put me down like a dog if that’s what you want… But let them go.”

Mila breaths in sharply. She stares at Dean like she wants to protest.

“Ah, but ya see, I didn’t come here for you,” Sanderson says. Without taking his aim off Mila, his shifts his gaze down to Tahatan, who struggles for every breath. “I’m gonna wash this land clean, from here to the West Coast. However long it takes.”

“Colonel!” an officer calls out. He approaches on a horse, though he leads a man by a rope that ties his wrists behind his back.

Dean’s eyes widen in shock. It’s Cas, and he has Sam as his captive. Sam is dirtier and more disheveled since Dean saw him off not too long ago. He’s lost his hat and his horse, but he doesn’t look afraid when he meets Dean’s gaze, then the assessing Colonel.

“Mr. Winchester. I should’ve known,” Sanderson says dryly. “Here to reacquaint yourself with your brother? Though I’ve got a feeling you already have.”

“What’re you gonna do about it? Kill me?” Sam says. “In case you’ve forgotten, I work for the government too. I’m a prosecutor for all the surrounding counties in Kansas City.”

Sanderson raises a brow. “Is that supposed to intimidate me, son?”

“It should, Colonel,” Sam says. He nods at his brother. “The world already thinks he’s dead. Fine. But there’s plenty of people who know I traveled to Fort Laramie. People high up in the chain of command. If you hurt me, my brother, or these people, someone’s gonna hear about it. And soon.”

“He’s got a point there, Colonel,” Benny says.

“You shut the fuck up!” Sanderson barks at his captain. “You’re lucky I don’t shoot you down where you stand. You and Novak. But believe you me, I’ll be dealin’ with you later.”

Sanderson continues to seethe. He thinks hard about the decision he makes next as he stares down at Sam, and then back up at Dean. He grits his teeth, his mustache twitching. Dean holds his breath, though he briefly meets eyes with his brother.

Slowly, Sanderson lowers his weapon away from Mila. Dean can breathe again, if shallowly. He doesn’t drop his guard though. In fact, he watches Sanderson even closer.

“I’ll give you dirty mongrels one hour to clear out of here,” Sanderson says, his eyes narrowed. “Anything left gets tied down and burned to charcoal.”

With that, he sharply tugs on his horse’s reins. He commands his men to fall back, and like the soldiers they are, they obey. Benny and Cas both cast Dean a backwards glance—one that tells Dean that he still has the loyalty of his friends. He now realizes that Cas brought Sam back for a purpose; it wasn’t to hurt him, but to help him. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if the whole “capture” was Sam’s idea.

After the soldiers clear out of the area with the Colonel, Dean and the other men dismount from their horses. He beelines for Mila, gathering her into the safety of his arms. Then he spares a hand to grab his brother’s shoulder as he smiles.

“I think I’m more glad to see you the second time,” Dean remarks.

“I’ll take that,” Sam says. His grin is infectious, but Dean returns his attention to his wife. He touches her cheek and runs his assessing gaze over her body. He frowns as he examines the thin cut along her neck where the soldier pressed the blade of her knife.

“You okay? Are you hurt?” he asks.

Mila shakes her head. “I’m fine.” Though she inspects him the same way with a wandering hand across his chest. Dean takes that hand and gives her a reassuring smile.

It falls when he hears Weaya crying. She sits beside three other women, including Šóta’s mother.

“Father,” Šóta says lowly. His voice is a rasp as he kneels beside Tahatan’s broken body, holding his hand. The chief manages to raise his head slightly. He looks at his son, and then his gaze travels. Eventually, it falls on Dean.

Tahatan smiles.

“Under this sky,” he says. “We are one people.”

He takes three more labored breaths before his eyes close. Šóta lays his father’s limp hand over his chest, which no longer moves.

Šóta’s mother gently raises her husband’s head to remove his long headdress. Among other things, it’s made of leather, glass beads, horsehair, and eagle tail feathers. Each feather represents a warrior’s honor earned in war, like a soldier’s insignia.

With shaking hands, she places it on Šóta’s head. He takes a deep breath, and he looks up at the many tear-stained faces that mirror his own.

“We have to go,” he says.

Sam stays to help mobilize the tribe. He helps a mother join her children into one of the caravans, then he and Otaktay heft rolled up tipis and supplies into the back of it.

“You are a law man?” Otaktay asks him.

Sam nods. “That’s right.”

“Make better laws,” Otaktay says, and walks away.

Sam is left with a bemused look on his face. Dean comes over and thumps him on the back.

“Making friends?” he says dryly.

“Don’t think so,” Sam replies. He shakes his head and follows his brother over to the second caravan.

“Eh, consider yourself lucky. That guy pretty much hates my guts,” Dean whispers.

Sam raises his brows. “What?”

Dean explains the story in its simplest, briefest terms. Meanwhile, the mood around their packing is somber and quiet.

For Mila, it feels wrong. It’s wrong for them to have to leave the river where they’ve tilled and nurtured the land for three generations. It’s wrong to leave Chief Tahatan’s body wrapped beside Takoda’s on the hill without at least one proper night of mourning. She feels her grief down to her very core, but all she can do is sit in the caravan beside her mother and hold protective hands around the small swell of her stomach. Her tears fall silently down her cheeks and dissolve between the indigo beads on her dress.

She only raises her head when Chatan comes to check on her and her mother. He touches Mila’s cheek, drying her tears there. He leans in to kiss Weaya’s hand.

“We leave soon,” he says.

“Where is Dean?” Mila asks.

“Helping Šóta,” Chatan replies, but he stops short and corrects himself. “He helps our Chief.”

A few moments later, the caravans begin to move as the horses pull with the reins. Šóta leads at the front with a few of the warriors, but the rest of them ride strategically around and behind the caravans. Sam and Dean fall back to ride beside Mila’s caravan, where Chatan sits at the helm. Sam has been given the horse of a fallen warrior, while Dean rides Mato.

Despite how low she feels, Mila smiles at the sight of her horse allowing Dean to ride him, even with a saddle and bridle.

“Mato is being agreeable,” she remarks.

“You sound surprised,” Dean says, teasing slightly. “Told you I’d get him to trust me eventually.”

“More like wear him down,” she quips back.

“Hey, he impregnated my mare. Without my say so, I might add. I’d say we’re proper father and son-in-law.”

“Yes,” Chatan chimes in wryly. “That is what that means.”

Mila scoffs at him, but the gleam of good humor in his eyes amuses her. She smiles as she rubs a hand over her belly. Dean smiles too. It’s strange that he can still do that after a night like tonight, but seeing Chatan do it, along with Sam, and Mila, and her mother too, it gives him hope for them—for all of them.

Until the first gunshot fires into the air.

Dean freezes. His body coils tight, and he turns to look sharply over his shoulder.

He shouldn’t be surprised that Colonel Sanderson went back on his word. His cavalrymen are gaining behind them on horseback, hooting and hollering like it’s a game for sport. His jaw clenching in both anger and determination, Dean tells Chatan to speed up the caravan. He locks eyes with Mila for a moment.

Be safe, he tries to say with that look.

Then he gives Sam a nod; together they speed up to alert Šóta at the front.

“They’re gaining on us,” Dean says, gesturing behind them. “We need to lead them away from the caravans and pick ‘em off—as many as we can.”

Šóta nods in grim agreement, but he has a moment of hesitation as he considers Dean.

“You go with the caravans,” he says.

Dean shakes his head. “No, I’m ending this. Once and for all.”

“You are willing to fight your people?” Šóta asks.

The set of Dean’s determined face doesn’t change.

“I’m protecting my people,” he says. He looks to Sam. “Stay with the caravans. Make sure they get across the river.”

Sam agrees, and the men split ways. Dean turns Mato away from the group along with Šóta and Otaktay, and a few other warriors. The caravans continue with Sam to help guide them. Mila clings to the edge and watches with growing dread as her husband rides farther and farther away from her.

Dean can’t allow himself to look back. Instead of drawing his gun, he reaches for his bow strapped to his back and an arrow from his quiver. He takes aim at the first soldier he sees raise his gun, along with a steadying breath, and he shoots his arrow before the other man can fire. The arrow embeds itself in the man’s chest and knocks him clean off his horse.

Šóta and Otaktay follow suit. They shout out yips and battle cries on the air as they take aim. The soldiers begin to scatter out of their formation. They weren’t expecting the Lakota to go on the offensive. Sanderson has conveniently let his men ride ahead of him, but Dean hears him giving the orders from behind. The Colonel has his left arm wrapped in a sling while he holds his gun aloft.

“All right, mustang,” Dean says to Mato, tightening his hands on the reins. “Remind ‘em why they should be scared a’ you.”

He gives the stallion a subtle kick. It’s just enough for him to pick up into a full gallop. Dean tucks his head down and lets the horse speed forward like a bullet carving across the plain. The soldiers take aim, but that’s when Šóta and Otaktay join in from behind. They begin to take down the uniformed men, one by one as they weave between bullets.

Dean tears between two officers and unbalances them. Mato, with his big head and chest, bulldozes straight through them. They shout in surprise and fear, and one of them even topples off his horse. Dean banks left and turns Mato around to finish what he started.

He retrieves his knife from his thigh holster and slices into one man’s neck, making him choke on his own blood. Dean forcefully takes the rifle off another man, and after flipping it around, hits him dead between the eyes with the butt of it—once, then twice until his nose breaks. He careens back off his horse into the dirt. Dean wracks the rifle and shoots the man for good measure.

The sound of a safety clicking back alerts him and turns his head, but he’s too late.

An arrow flies into the officer’s throat.

Dean looks over sharply. He finds Otaktay, lowering his bow.

Dean’s eyes widen. The other man just saved his life.

Dean nods in thanks, and Otaktay slowly returns the gesture. The moment is cut short, however, when Dean sharpens in alarm. Instead of opening his mouth to warn, he knows he has no time, not even to grab another arrow. He just throws his knife.

It carves through the air and hits Jack Kline where his arm meets his shoulder—his shooting arm that would’ve clipped Otaktay with his pistol. Jack falls off his horse and hits the ground hard, the air leaving his lungs in a hot rush. He groans in pain while clutching his arm. It’s not an easy wound, but he’ll live…as long as Otaktay doesn’t kill him first. Still on his horse, he towers over the younger man with another arrow notched.

“Wait!” Dean shouts.

He meant what he said about finishing this, but now looking at Jack, all Dean sees is a kid following orders. He doesn’t deserve to die like this, hundreds of miles away from home, just trying to make something of himself.

Otaktay looks up, wasting a precious second. Another beat, and a bullet tears into him, almost forcing him off his horse. Dean grits his teeth and speeds forward. Šóta rejoins them in time to help lead Otaktay away; he’s been hit in the side. There’s no telling how deep, but all Dean can focus on is the path ahead.

He comes face to face with Colonel Sanderson.

Dean raises his bow and arrow and ducks his head against another bullet, still shooting off his arrow. It misses its aim at the horse’s legs, but it spooks him enough to whinny in distress. It begins to buck off the Colonel.

“Whoa!” he shouts, trying to take back control of the horse. Dean rides in close and cracks a fist across Sanderson’s face. His head whips back with a pained grunt. Dean grabs his wrist and twists, until he feels tendons popping and the gun loosened from the other man’s hand. Then, Dean brings his elbow up into Sanderson’s nose and spills blood.

“Fuck!” Sanderson growls. He manages to land a punch of his own with his left arm, despite how it makes his shoulder bleed again. Dean recovers from the blow to his cheek and goes to grab that wound, digging in his fingers hard. He’s satisfied by the howl of pain Sanderson lets loose.

Dean doesn’t care if it’s a dirty tactic. He’s taking any opportunity he can, because right now, it’s not about his honor. It’s about protecting what’s his.

But Sanderson fights back just as dirty. He grabs Dean by the back of his neck and headbutts him, so hard he sees stars. Sanderson lands one more kick to Dean’s chest that almost sends him off of Mato. Dean has to grab on tight to the saddle and pull himself up, just in time for a lassoed rope to circle around his neck. Dean’s eyes fly wide in alarm. He slips his hand between the rope and his neck just in time before it tightens—because Sanderson tugs hard as he urges his horse into a gallop.

“Aw, sh—” Dean is yanked off Mato. He lands hard in the dirt, before he begins to be dragged across it.

Once again, the current is strong across Little Cheyenne. The first caravan has more horses to pull it through, but the caravan that Chatan is trying to lead starts to take on water. Mila and her mother sit behind him, along with Misae and her daughters, Tahatan’s widows, and Eyota and her husband.

The colt is doing his best to keep going, but Baby and two of the other horses are struggling in the pull of the river. They’ve hit a deeper patch under the water, and now it’s all the way up to Baby’s chest. She can’t handle the weight of the caravan along with the river’s current.

Sam comes closer with rope in hand, but Mila can see in his eyes that he’s trying to decide what to do. She grasps the edge of the caravan to pull herself up, and she points to the black mare.

“She needs help!” she calls out to him.

“Mila, sit down!” Chatan orders.

Mila turns back to her father with a determined set to her face. She knows his ankle has never healed entirely right. If he tries to do what she’s about to do, he’d probably fall into the river and get trampled by the horses. She knows what she must do.

She carefully stands up all the way and moves to the edge of the caravan, ignoring her father and mother trying to stop her. Sam’s eyes grow wide, but he tries to come in closer to support her. She steps out onto Baby’s back and slides into an astride position. The frigid water climbs up Mila’s dress and reaches her waist, making her shiver, but she ignores that too. She reaches out for Sam.

“Throw me the rope!” she calls out.

Sam follows her lead and does what she says. Mila not only catches the rope, but loops the ends of it around Baby’s bridle and around her chest. It’s hard work, especially because Mila has to tread water just to get the rope around the mare’s wide chest, but Sam helps her as much as he can.

When they’ve finished securing the ropes, Sam pulls ahead. With his horse leading Baby, she gets the momentum she needs to climb out of the dip, and eventually, cross the rest of the river.

Mila is sopping wet by the time they make it to the other side. Her braid has come loose, and so her hair becomes a black curtain around her face. She clings to Baby as she catches her breath, stroking the horse’s neck.

“Good girl. Big, strong girl,” she soothes. “Your father will be proud of you.”

Speaking of, Mila turns to look back. Across the river, the men are still fighting off the soldiers that sought to finish what they started last night. Mila scans with narrowed eyes for Dean.

“You all right?” Sam asks. He sidles up next to her and grasps her shoulder to make sure.

“Fine,” she breathes.

But she hesitates on a sharp inhale. Her brows furrow as she tries to make sure of what she’s seeing. Her mouth drops open in shock.

“Sam!” She points out the shape of a man she thinks is Dean. Sam follows her line of vision and becomes just as alarmed at what he sees.

Mila immediately takes her father’s knife from her shoe and cuts the ropes that bind Baby to the caravan. Mila puts her fingers to her lips and whistles sharply instead of kicking the mare. Baby sharpens to attention and heeds the command, just like she’s done for Dean a hundred times before.

Mila guides her back through the river.

Dean is being road hauled across the plain. He hits every bump, rock, twig, and dry patch of dirt in several yards as he twists and struggles to break free.

He lost his knife to save Otaktay, and he’s probably lost all his arrows along with his bow. Dean grits his teeth, as he can hear Sanderson’s insane hooting and hollering on the wind whipping past his ears, and not much else.

He doesn’t know where Šóta is, or if even Otaktay’s still alive, but his last thoughts aren’t about them. Instinctively, he thinks of his wife. It’s not even a coherent thought. It’s just her name, her face, her hand on his heart.

And the rope snaps.

Dean grunts as his momentum slows. He rolls across the dirt and grass to a stop. He probably has road burns and cuts and bruises all down his back, but at least he can stare up at the morning sun and breathe.

Heaving for free air, he tugs the rope from around his neck and shoves it off. He hears familiar horse hooves galloping his way. Somehow, he manages to raise his head.

Now, either the sun is playing tricks on him, or a black shape is thundering towards him.

Apparently, his eyes aren’t lying to him. Baby slows to a stop, and Mila climbs down from her back. Mila rushes to his side and kneels beside him after putting away her knife. She takes his face into her gentle hands.

“Dean?” she says, her voice tinged with desperation.

He grabs onto her wrist and smiles weakly, looking up at her soulful brown eyes.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he says.

She sighs and shakes her head, despite the tears in her eyes.

“Be quiet,” she laughs. Dean just grins.

She cups the back of his neck and guides him up slowly into a sitting position. His back is a bloody mess, but they’ll deal with that later.

“You all right, brother?”

Dean’s smile drops. He clutches at Mila’s arm protectively, but he looks up at Benny Lafitte. His horse shifts in place. Dean finally notices Sam is there too, with his gun trained on Benny. But Benny’s gun is raised right back at Sam.

They’re joined by Colonel Sanderson. He wears a self-satisfied look on his face as he approaches with his pistol held aloft.

“Well, well,” he drawls. “Ain’t this a picture. Traitors and savages.”

Mila keeps her back to the Colonel; she stubbornly defends Dean with her body, even though he’s gathered her to his chest protectively. With his right hand, he subtly reaches for the gun holster at his thigh. One last weapon. One last shot.

He shares a look with Mila, silently asking her to trust him. She gives him a subtle nod.

“Captain Lafitte,” Sanderson addresses Benny, even though his gaze is straight on Dean and Mila. He holds Sam in his periphery. “Now’s the time to take a stand. Are you gonna serve your country and put these three in the ground where they belong, or are you gonna join ‘em?”

Benny stares back at his superior officer. He thought he understood before, but today is when he truly understands why Dean made his choice.

Benny lowers his weapon down to his side.

“This ain’t the law,” he says. “This ain’t justice. It’s just pride, plain and simple. Your pride, Colonel.”

After a moment of genuine surprise, Sanderson rolls his eyes. He shifts his gun off of Sam and points it at Benny next.

A trigger fires, but the bullet that hits its mark is not the Colonel’s.

It’s Dean’s, and it hits Asmodeus Sanderson between the eyes.

Dean lowers his silver, smoking Colt down at his side, where Mila moved just in time for Dean to take his shot. He holds her to him now, taking in deep breaths.

Benny and Sam both look to Dean with shock still in their eyes, but before either of them can say anything, they notice Cas stumbling over on foot with a wounded Jack Kline leaning heavily on him. They’re flanked on both sides by Šóta and Otaktay. The latter has a cloth tied tight around his middle. His bullet wound just looks like a nasty graze.

The other warriors that remain follow behind, and they have Mato and Baby in tow by their bridles.

Dean realizes that Cas and Jack are the only other survivors from the rest of the unit. Šóta has taken them prisoner. He orders the other men to force Benny off of his horse. They shove him closer to Cas and Jack.

Dean quickly tries to raise up onto his knees, though it’s hard for him to stand. Mila helps him the rest of the way, and he keeps his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“We will make an example of these,” Šóta says, nodding at Cas, Jack, and Benny. They look rightly nervous, shifting their gazes towards Dean.

Dean raises his hands to placate Šóta (and hopefully reassure his friends).

“Šóta, I know these guys. They were my men,” he says. “They were just following the Colonel’s orders.”

“And what does that mean to me, Dean Winchester?” Šóta says. He climbs down from his horse, his headdress of feathers tousled as a breeze rushes through.

“It means they won’t follow us,” Dean says. “They won’t tell the Army what actually happened here. They’ll keep their word if I ask them to. So I’m asking you…trust me. Trust me like you’ve trusted me before.”

Šóta seems to consider it, even though he doesn’t exactly like the idea. Otaktay seems to like it even less.

“We won’t betray you, Chief,” Benny says to Šóta, and to the other warriors. “We respect you, and we don’t want any more trouble. For us, or for Dean.”

Šóta considers this with a tilt of his head. Before he decides, first, he turns to Otaktay. Other than Dean, he’s now the man Šóta trusts most.

Otaktay looks over at Dean. Between them, there’s an understanding. Finally, there’s also respect. Otaktay returns his gaze to his leader, and he nods.

Šóta expels a deep breath. He addresses the three soldiers.

“Go. Go in peace, or next time, there will not be peace,” he says.

The soldiers breathe in relief.

Dean steps forward with Mila’s help. There he shakes each man’s hand. He’s said goodbye to Cas and Benny before, but somehow, this feels even more final than the last.

Benny and Cas are given back their horses. They help Jack up first, then Cas climbs up with him. Benny mounts his own horse, and Sam, Dean, and the Lakota watch them leave the way they came.

It takes days to cross the plains and maneuver through the mountains, but Šóta leads the rest of the tribe to safety within Sioux territory. They find a place to settle along the Big Cheyenne River, northeast of the Black Hills.

There they will learn the land and what to plant and forage there for the late autumn harvest, as summer ends. There is where they will honor the dead who couldn’t make the journey. There is where their traditions will be celebrated, old and new.

Like today. The men have painted each other with blue circles around their faces and blue lines across their foreheads, chins, and cheekbones. The women are painted similarly in red. It symbolizes change in its many forms, but most of all, it symbolizes new relationships, and new responsibilities.

Today, it’s Huŋkápi. The Making of Relatives. This ceremony formally welcomes Dean into the tribe by marriage. It also recognizes Sam as his brother, and so, it acknowledges Sam as a friend to their tribe as well. They are now all family. One people.

Dean sits with his brother around the large firepit, where a roasted boar is already half-eaten. Dean has shared a lot of meals with these people, but somehow, this one is the best he’s ever eaten. Maybe it’s the company, he thinks, as he laughs at some old story Sam is trying to tell.

“No, no, no, that’s not what happened. Let me tell it—”

“What, so you can make stuff up?”

“Oh, I’m making stuff up?”

Mila giggles quietly, but it’s enough to earn Dean’s attention. She sits at his left, and he turns to her with an amused smile.

“What’re you laughing at?” he teases. His arm wraps around her waist and pulls her in.

“You,” she replies. “You and your brother. You’re worse than me and Šóta.”

Dean chuckles and shakes his head. He points over at her cousin, their esteemed Chief, who’s busy making shadow creatures with exaggerated voices to impress the kids. Right now, it’s a big grizzly bear that threatens to eat the closest child.

“Worse than the grizzly?” Dean says.

“Hmm, maybe not,” she says with a laugh.

That evening, Dean is glad he convinced Sam to start sleeping in his own tipi. He agreed to stay until Mila has the baby, but while Dean is grateful to have his brother here for a few more months, he still wants some much-needed privacy with his wife.

He “helps” her undress for bed, all the while distracting her with lingering kisses across her neck and shoulders, winding his fingers into her long hair. He wraps his arms around her and cups her full breasts from behind, satisfied by the arousing way she moans.

“They’re heavier,” Dean whispers in her ear, gently squeezing her breasts. She hums in response. “Your thighs and hips are thicker too, nice and soft for me.” He squeezes those too for good measure.

“I am changing,” she admits. “Are they good changes?”

“Hell yeah,” Dean says, his lips moving against her throat. He gently turns her around and guides her down to lay on the bedding and furs. He palms at the best change of all—the growing swell of her belly. She’s gotten bigger, and growing a little more each week. Dean really wants to meet his kid.

He dips down to lay a path of slow, tender kisses down between her breasts, and over her belly. Mila smiles and threads her fingers through his hair. It’s getting long, brushing past his ears.

“Do you want a son, or a daughter?” she asks him. It’s not the first time she’s asked, but she wonders if his answer will change now, after everything they’ve gone through to get here. She finds that her own answer hasn’t changed.

Dean shakes his head. “I don’t care. Either one.”

All he wants is for the baby to be healthy, and for Mila to be healthy too. He moves back up to claim her lips. When he kisses her like this, he hopes she knows what he’s really saying. Just in case, he says it anyway. He says it out loud to her for the first time.

“I love you,” he says. He pauses, then smiles a little. “You know, you’re the only woman I’ve ever said that to.”

She smiles, because she knows. With her hand over his heart, she knows.

And when their son is born a few months later, she has a dream. She dreams of an eagle’s wings that shift from white to gold in the light.

Dean plans to give him a name he picked out weeks before, Elijah. It was his father’s middle name. But she will also give their son a name.

Ikíphi, the name her uncle, Chief Tahatan, gave Dean Winchester himself.

Because one day, she knows her son will be worthy of it.

AN: And there we have it! A more definitive end to Dean and Mila's story. 🥹

For those of you who read and enjoyed this, thank you so much for sticking with me through this sequel of The Honorable Choice. This was an idea that wouldn't let go of me once I started, and it's the first time that I've written something like this. 💖💖

Pronunciation Guide:

Wašíču ("wash-ee-jew") Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Otaktay ("ogh-tac-tay") Weaya ("we-ayy-ya") Takoda ("ta-koda") Mato ("matt-toe") Misae ("mee-sah-eh")