#good boy ketch

[m1zumono]

why are they gay and why don't they get enough attention for it?

[nahoney22]

Omg congrats on so many followers! That's so amazing and so well deserved! Might I request Echo and Female reader and the sort of prompt is kissing as a disguise? (It can absolutely get a bit spicy too fyi :0) Oh also can reader just be someone who has been with the batch long enough to be familiar with them and such? Thank you!!! x <3

Kiss Me Quick*** 🌊

🫧 pairing: Echo X Female!Reader

word count: 2.7k

prompts: none

When you and Echo pair up to track a missing shipment for Cid, you both didn’t anticipate that it would end with you two finding somewhere to be alone.

warnings: Light NSFW, 17+ only, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Fake Dating Trope, Steamy Kisses, Neck Kisses and Bites, Touchy-feely, Minor Alcohol Consumption, Reader Wearing a Dress.

a/n: sorry for the wait @mezmatch, enjoy 🫧

“What does she want now?” you muttered, a familiar mix of irritation and reluctance bubbling up.

All you wanted was a rare day of relaxation, but fate, also known as Cid, had other plans.

“Probably to do her dirty work for very little credit,” Echo sighed, shaking his head in agreement.

After taking a moment to mentally prepare, you stepped into Cid’s cluttered office. The Trandoshan greeted you with her usual disdain, referring to you as ‘grumps’ and Echo as ‘killjoy’.

When you asked for details, she waved you off dismissively and activated the console in the center of her office. A large hologram of a notorious crime lord flickered to life. Cid began outlining the mission: gathering information on a shipment of weapons for a mysterious client. But you sensed there was more to it than she was letting on. There always was.

“This is a two-person job, and you two are the perfect candidates,” Cid announced, moving around her desk to take a seat. Her large claws tapped rhythmically across the surface. “And you two lovebirds get to dress up.”

“Could you not get—wait, what? Lovebirds?” You raised an eyebrow, glancing at Echo, who looked equally confused, albeit slightly more flustered.

Cid smirked, looking between the two of you. “Omega said you two were a thing.”

“No, we are not a ‘thing,’” Echo said, using air quotes and shaking his head. “But more to the point, what do you mean by dress up?”

“Don’t worry,” Cid said, her smirk widening. “Bolo and Ketch are on it.”

You folded your arms and stared down at Cid. “I don’t think taking fashion advice from those two is a great idea.”

Cid shrugged casually, waving you both off. “Don’t worry about it. Now, get out.”

Relieved, you left the office with the door hissing shut behind you. “Well, this could be interesting,” you sighed.

Echo agreed with a small mumble, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Uh, why do you think Omega said that about us?”

“You know what she’s like,” you chuckled, not thinking too much into it. “She sees Hunter speaking to literally anyone and asks me if I think Hunter fancies them. She’s trying to play matchmaker.”

“Fair point,” Echo chuckled, but your conversation was soon interrupted by the sound of bickering. Bolo and Ketch entered the parlor, making a beeline straight to you both.

What had Cid gotten you into now?

That evening, the Marauder settled into hyperspace as you and Echo dressed in the outfits Cid’s regulars had picked out for you. Surprisingly, they hadn’t done too bad.

You slipped into a sleek, form-fitting dress in deep sapphire blue, which shimmered with your every movement. It was a far cry from your usual battle-worn attire, but you felt unexpectedly good in it.

Entering the cockpit, smoothing out the dress, you spotted Echo struggling with his cufflinks. “Can I help you with that?” you offered.

Echo was seated at the controls, and as he looked up, he did a double-take. None of the boys had ever seen you dressed so glamorously before. For a second, he thought you were a completely different person. His fingers stumbled, dropping the links as he tsked at himself in embarrassment. “Getting dressed in this kind of stuff is hard when you only have one hand,” he admitted, bending down to pick them up.

You moved closer, gently reaching out to help. “Here, let me.”

As you fixed the links to his cuffs, you also adjusted his slightly askew collar. Echo took a moment to truly look at you, noticing how stunning you looked. Though he had always found you beautiful, tonight you looked especially radiant. He didn’t say anything, but the soft smile on his face spoke volumes.

“There,” you said, stepping back. “All set.”

“Thanks,” Echo replied, his voice a little softer than usual. “You look…”

Gorgeous.

Pretty.

Beautiful.

“…really nice.”

He inwardly cringed at himself but saw your eyes shine at his compliment, which was clearly enough for you. And surprisingly, enough for him too.

You smiled, feeling a warmth creep up your cheeks. “You don’t look too shabby yourself, Sir,”

As you arrived, the grandeur of the event immediately struck you. Shimmering chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a glittering glow over the sea of elegantly dressed guests. The room buzzed with the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses, opulent decorations reflecting the wealth and status of the attendees.

Despite feeling out of place, you couldn’t help but be intrigued by the luxurious surroundings. However, the mission was clear: infiltrate the event, locate the stolen shipment of weapons, and report back to Cid.

Moving through the crowd, you exchanged pleasantries with other guests, trying to get a sense of the situation. Your eyes continuously scanned for any sign of the crime lord or his associates, whose images Cid had ingrained in your minds. Despite the lavish setting, your nerves were on edge. You felt grateful to be teamed up with Echo; his presence gave you a sense of calm in case things went awry.

“I’m going to head right to see if I can catch a lead. Are you okay with going to the left?” Echo asked, his voice steady.

You smiled in agreement at his plan. He gave you a reassuring nod before you split up to cover more ground. You gravitated toward the bar and ordered a cocktail to blend in. The bartender handed you a drink that was a mesmerizing swirl of deep blue and violet, almost matching your dress. It had hints of citrus and a subtle sweetness that lingered on the tongue. You sipped it slowly, your eyes and ears open to any useful information.

As you listened to the murmurs around you, a light tap on your shoulder made you turn. Standing before you was the crime lord himself, tall and imposing in a sharp suit, exuding an aura of controlled menace. He offered a charming, if slightly unsettling, smile.

“Enjoying the evening?” he asked, his tone smooth and courteous.

You maintained your composure, smiling back. “It’s quite the event. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

He leaned on the bar, his eyes gleaming with interest. “I’m glad you’re having a good time. It’s rare to see such beauty in these parts.”

From across the room, Echo’s gaze snapped to the scene. His posture tensed as he watched the exchange, a mix of concern and an unrecognizable pang twisting in his gut as he saw you speaking with the man. Without hesitation, he made his way over, weaving through the crowd.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flirting with me,” you said, forcing a smile as you twirled the straw in your drink.

“And if I was?” he countered, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Or are you spoken for?”

Before you could answer, another familiar voice spoke up beside you. “Is everything alright over here?”

Relief washed over you as you saw Echo. When he reached you, you took a bold step, leaning into him, looping your arm through his, and resting your head against his shoulder. “This is my better half,” you said with a sweet smile, hoping the ruse would deter the crime lord from his advances.

Echo, catching on quickly, wrapped his arm around your waist, playing along. “Good evening,” he greeted, his voice steady.

The crime lord’s eyes flickered between you both, a calculating look crossing his face before he let out a chuckle. “A lucky man, indeed,” he said.

“I am,” Echo started, shifting his position before looking across at you. “Has my love asked you about our proposal?”

You stayed silent, allowing Echo to take the reins. Although you should have been paying attention, you couldn’t help but gaze at Echo, watching his lips move but not processing his words. His fingers gently caressed your waist, providing comfort and security. Had he always been so... alluring?

You felt breathless and almost flinched when Echo’s gaze suddenly locked onto you.

“W-What?” you stammered.

Echo raised an eyebrow at you, his hand slipping from your waist, leaving you feeling suddenly cold. “Did you hear what he said?” Echo asked, concern flickering in his eyes.

You blinked, overwhelmed, and took a step back as you realised you were in a whole different realm it seemed. You hadn’t even noticed that the crime lord had left. “Sorry, I... I think I blanked out for a moment,” you admitted, frowning.

He watched you curiously and politely took the drink from your hand, placing it on the bar. “Maybe lay off these?” he suggested with a soft chuckle.

You rolled your eyes, playfully nudging his shoulder. “I only had half of one,” you reiterated, not feeling up to explaining the real reason for your distraction. “Anyway, what intel did you get?”

“He said the shipment is being moved to the docks. I told him we were thinking of getting in on the score.”

You raised an impressed eyebrow. “And he even didn’t question it?”

“Not particularly, no. But it’s best we keep our wits about us,” Echo pointed out, scanning the surroundings before his eyes landed on you again. “We should still ask around or listen for more information, just in case he’s misleading us.”

Agreeing, you and Echo split up once again. But you couldn't lie and say your mind wasn't elsewhere. Echo was definitely boyfriend material for anyone, but you never thought you'd find yourself wanting Echo to be your actual boyfriend. He settled into the role so easily that you wondered if he had done it once before in his 501st days.

Your thoughts were interrupted when a short yet intimidating associate of the crime lord blocked your path, his eyes sharp and scrutinising. “I hear you and your partner are interested in our operation,” he said suspiciously. “What���s your angle?”

“No angle,” you lied smoothly, tilting your head down at him. “It’s just business.”

“Well darling, your business is now my business.” He stepped towards you, but you didn’t back down and held your ground.

A smirk spread across your lips. “I don’t think it is. Besides, it’s your boss I have business with, not his little pup.”

The man’s eyes flared with anger at your words, feeling the sting of your insult. “I don’t trust you, or your little boyfriend. If he even is who you say he is.”

“If I had a credit for every time I didn’t care about your opinion, I wouldn’t have to do this,” you countered, placing your fists on your hips. “Now run along.”

The man muttered something under his breath and stalked off, and you couldn’t help but release the small breath you were holding. If that guy was wary of you and Echo, you were certain the others would catch on too.

You located Echo across the hall and swiftly made your way over to him, gently clutching his arm. “We should get going.”

“What, why?” he asked, looking at you and then scanning the area for any potential dangers. You told him that people were growing suspicious of you both. As you looked around, you saw the associates talking quietly to one another, occasionally glancing at you and Echo.

Your mind fell back to the associate's words, wondering why he would think you and Echo couldn’t possibly be partners. Was there anything you could do to sway their opinion?

Then, an idea clicked—a somewhat smart yet daring move.

You turned back to Echo, watching him as he scanned the environment, his hand resting on your hip. You felt a rush of wild emotions.

Letting go of his arm, your hand moved to his face, cupping his cheek and turning his face back to you softly. You met his eyes, slightly wide and curious but absolutely alluring. Leaning up, your lips landed on his.

You felt his faint gasp against your lips, but he quickly caught on to what you were doing. So, he brought you closer, his eyes fluttering closed.

At first, it started as just a peck, but as you went to pull back, his lips chased yours, not caring who or what saw.

Breaking the kiss eventually, your eyes silently spoke to each other. Without another word, Echo took your hand and led you to a quiet and secure area away from prying eyes. A flush of embarrassment suddenly surfaced, and you expected Echo to say you shouldn’t do that again. But as you turned to face him, ready to apologise, he approached you with steadfast determination and kissed you again.

Surprised, you were backed into a desk, his arm wrapping around you and lifting you onto it with ease. You gasped against his lips, holding onto his shoulders and pulling him closer. The kiss intensified, filled with pent-up emotions of the night and laced desire. His hand roamed your body, his scomp link gently tracing your waist, sending waves of shivers down your spine.

"Echo," you whispered between kisses, your voice low and gentle.

He responded with a soft murmur of your name, his lips leaving yours before trailing down your neck.

Each touch of his lips peppering on your skin made your heart race and your breaths come faster. Was this really happening?

"You’re so beautiful," he murmured against your skin, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes with a smirk. "And you look sexy dressed this way too."

The compliment sent a thrill through you, your cheeks flushing at his bold compliment. “Echo…” you could only respond again with a soft sigh, his name the only thing on your mind.

Echo's grip tightened around you, pulling you closer as if he couldn't bear to let you go. His lips moved back to your neck, and you couldn't help the small moans that escaped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as his warm tongue licked at your exposed skin, followed by a soft nip of his teeth.

"You're everything I've ever wanted," he breathed, his voice filled with sincerity and desire. Your eyes close, gasping at the realisation that Echo had had these strong feelings for you and only now is able to truly express them. You wish he had told you earlier.

His scorching kisses made you feel alive in a way you had never experienced before. The connection between you deepened with each touch, each whispered word. Tongue begging for entrance, you part your lips as soon as his lips touch yours, the passion burning through both of your bodies as your hands move up and down his chest.

“What if someone sees us?” You pant once you break for breath, physically melting as you watch his hand grasp the bottom of your dress, pulling it upwards to expose your legs.

“Then they don’t get to question what you are to me,” he mumbles, drunk in love eyes meeting yours.

His hand started to slip up under your dress, sending a shiver of anticipation through you when suddenly, a sharp beep cut through the haze of your passion.

Echo pulled back, slightly breathless, as his comm went off. Cid's voice crackled through, impatient and nagging. “What’s taking so long? I need details, now. You’re needed back.”

You both exchanged a look, a mixture of frustration and amusement, before Echo answered, his voice steady despite the interruption. “We’ll be there soon, Cid. Just wrapping up.”

He ended the call and looked back at you, his gaze softening. “We should get going.”

You nodded, feeling a bit shy after the intensity of the moment being ruined . “Yeah, we should.”

As you smoothed your dress out, you watched as Echo tried to fix his tie, which you had yanked on accidentally during the kiss. Smiling, you stepped closer and helped him adjust it. “There.”

When you were done, you both met each other's gaze again. Echo couldn’t help but place a gentle kiss on your lips. “Can we talk about what happened after the mission?” he asked softly, his eyes full of hope.

“Of course,” you replied, your heart fluttering. “I’d like that.”

You didn’t want to admit it, but you should thank Omega, and even Cid, for bringing you both together.

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🌊 Masterlist is pinned 🌊

[haveihitanerve]

Had an idea but I forgor it so here's a different one

Bruce Wayne, concussed and on several strong painkillers, socializing with socialites from outside Gotham. They ask him about his kids and joke about how they all look so similar to him.

His brain, moving at about 3mph, does not register that his kids were ADOPTED (safe for one) and answers their questions as if he gave birth to them, forgetting he also doesn't have the facilities for that (unless you want him to- we love old trans people)

"Master Bruce I really must insist-" Alfred tried for the fourth time in seven minutes, Bruce had counted, reaching to push him back to bed and pull off the suit jacket he had only moments before helped Bruce put on.

"'M going Alf." Bruce grumbled back, rubbing a bleary hand over his eyes. "There's no use in putting it off. Don't have a good excuse and.." He grimaced. "They need to see me. It's been a while."

Alfred opened his mouth to protest again, even going so far as to move in front of the door to block his exit. "You are on far too many medications Mr. Wayne, not to mention a concussion! You simply cannot."

Bruce's lips twitched it amusement. It was a rare day when Alfred's composure was rattled to the point of calling him Mr. Wayne, and while Alfred was admittedly very strong, there was no way his physical blockation of Bruce's path would actually stop him.

"Alf." Bruce began gently, and the butler scoffed, rolling his eyes as he moved out of the way, striding down the long hallway. "Well. I see my advice isn't heeded. As always."

Bruce threw him an apologetic smile, heading for the main door. "Love ya Alfie!!" The butler snorted, but Bruce could tell he was softening.

"Call if you need boy." Alfred murmured. Bruce grinned, offering a wink as he pulled the door open. "I will." He promised, sliding into the backseat of his limousine, heading to the Gala.

He hissed as the needle broke his skin, biting his lip to prevent any further sounds as the anti-biotic worked its way into his system. Alfred would most definitely have protested its use, especially as Bruce tossed back a handful of other added painkillers, but if he was being honest, he needed them to get through the night.

"Thanks Hank. Tell your wife I said hi and grab her a bouquet on your way home. On me." He patted his driver's shoulder as he climbed out. Hank grinned, tipping his black cap.

"You always make me seem like such a good husband Mr. Wayne, I appreciate it. Have a good night." Bruce grinned back, stumbling slightly as he moved towards the doors, using the car to stabilize himself.

"You give me too much credit, send your boys some love and you have tomorrow off, try to actually use that baseball glove I gifted you." Hank chortled, setting the car into drive. "Will do sir. Good night." Bruce nodded the same back, watching until the car pulled away fully to stumble up the steps.

"Maybe those pills weren't such a good idea." He mumbled to himself as he made it to the doors, pulling them open to walk inside, heading straight for the table laid out with food. Of course, one couldn't enter a Gala without greeting the hosts, and he barely made it two steps before he was intercepted.

"Mrs. and Mr. Ketch. How lovely to see you." Bruce offered a bow, bending too low before rocking back upwards. Mrs. Ketch was smiling at him, a lovely, true smile that Bruce noticed tended to happen whenever he greeted the woman first instead of the man. Mr. Ketch was frowning, but more at Bruce's bizarre drunken act than any offense towards being placed after his wife.

"Are you alright, Wayne?" He asked, and Bruce hated that he actually liked the Ketch's, because there was genuine concern in the mans voice. Another reason why he had come.

The Ketch's were new money, self made, and trying to blend in with the old elites, though Bruce had to admit they never would, they were just too good, too kind, too sincere.

He wondered, dimly, in the back of his foggy, drug addled mind, if perhaps they'd finally tire of all the snide comments, rude looks, sneers, and give up on their well meaning charity that they had chosen Gotham for. He hoped they wouldn't. He liked having actual good conversation at these dull events.

"M fine, truly." Bruce answered, a few seconds too late, smiling lazily. "Might've had a few." He tried his best imitation at a drunken smile, wincing as he realized it was dangerously close to how he really felt.. tipsy. Off balance.

Robert, because that was his name, he had told Bruce his first name instead of demanding he call him Mr., frowned a little in concern, and before he knew it they had herded him to one of the seating places, settling down by him.

"How're the kids?" Mrs. Ketch asked, handing him a glass of water that Bruce gratefully accepted. "Amazing." He answered. "Splendid. They're always doing so well. They don't see it though." He frowned at his glass, wondering why that was.

"They're so amazing though. It just doesn't make any sense," He sat up, leaning forward to look at the couple in front of him intensely. They both had their eyebrows raised in surprise, but leaned forward in tandem, intruiged.

"Because see, they're so brilliant, and lovely, and smart, really I think they're the smartest people in the world- like ever. And Dickie, he's so kind and sweet and nice, and he's got a few problems and I'm sorry about it but he's really just amazing and an all around good person, I really oughtta try and be more like him, and oh he's got my eyes, im so glad he got my eyes, but i love his nose too, its nothing like mine- anyway Jason too- whoo he got my height im so happy for him- he also has my eyes! they all have my eyes actually, except cass, and damian, but like he's so brilliant and smart and he was such a good kid, he is now too- oh he doesn't like me calling him kid, but he'll always be my baby, and oh i cried so much when he died, but he better now, oh and Timmy, oh timmy is so smart. Soooo smart like genuis level, and he's wayy smarter than me, wayyyy smarter, and alfie says he has my hair, but i dont see it- i think he got my jaw though- and then Cass oh Cassandra My baby girl she's lovely and sweet and a charmer, beautiful girl, so is Barbara, but she won't let me say that to her, no no, but she is, she's so pretty and smart and quick, she scares me sometimes but I love her, such a good girl yknow? And Stephanie? Oh she and Tim need to make it official so shes mine. mine mine mine. I need another daughter you know? Too many boys. Equality of men and women at home. I need them home. And then Duke. hes so lovely too. Oh and Damian. Damian took some adjusting but they're all so lovely yknow? I remember the day they were born so vividly. I was so happy. I love them so much. It hurt, of course, but what is that to the joy they bring now yknow?"

Bruce took a sip of his drink, nodding thoughtfully as he leaned back. Mrs. and Mr. Ketch blinked a few times, opened their mouths, closed them again, and leaned back as well, exchanging glances.

"Yes. Well. Quite." Mr. Ketch cleared his throat. "Bruce, perhaps we should call you someone? To take you home?" Mrs. Ketch nodded her agreement.

"Come on sweetheart, let's get you home. You need to go to bed and.. and sleep this off." Bruce nodded, letting them help him stand and guide him to the door as Mr. Ketch called someone.

"Yeah. I like bed. And sleep. Oh- but I can't. Uh-uh, I promised Dickie I'd call him." Bruce nodded, turning to head back inside as though that would help his quest.

Mrs. Ketch grabbed his arm and gently, but firmly, led him back outside. "Rob just called him sweetheart, he's on his way."

"Oh." Bruce nodded. "Oh. Thas good." Mrs. Ketch nodded her agreement, rubbing his back soothingly. "I like that." Bruce hummed, letting his eyes close. "Its like what my mother used to do." Mrs. Ketch looked at him in surprise, hand stilling for a second before resuming.

"Really?" She asked gently. Bruce hummed in confirmation. "Oh yes. Yeah she did. You do it well. You'd make a good mom. Just like me. Well, I don't make a good mom." At that he frowned at the ground, biting his lip. "But I try."

Mrs. Ketch smiled, turning them as a car pulled up. "Yes. You do. And you do it marvelously Bruce, truly. That's all we can ever do. Try." Bruce nodded his agreement as the door opened and his eldest emerged, rushing to his side.

"Bruce!" Dick looked genuinely worried, grabbing his shoulder. "You alright?" His son's eyes were searching, scanning his body.

"Oh hes fine." Mrs. Ketch waved with a smile. "Just a few drinks. I think it'd be best he go home though, sleep it off." Dick nodded his agreement, smiling at her. "Yes. I think thats best. Thank you." She shrugged, waving it off.

"Of course. It's what he would have done for me." Dick lowered Bruce into the passenger seat, heading for the drivers. "Bruce." Ketch tapped the window, leaning down. "Hm?" Bruce tilted his head, rolling it down.

"I'm pregnant." Bruce waited, jaw dropping slowly as the words connected in his brain. "You are?" She nodded, a small smile crossing her face.

"Yes. You're the first person I've told." She glanced nervously over her shoulder, to where her husband was waiting on the steps. Bruce reached for her hand, clasping it in his own.

"You'll make an excellent mother. And he will make an amazing father." He promised. She smiled, biting her lip anxiously. "You think?" Bruce nodded. "I know." At that her smile softened, and she patted his cheek.

"Thank you. And, for what it's worth Bruce," She glanced past him to Dick, who was kindly pretending not to listen. "I think you make an excellent mother."

[holylulusworld]

Designed by pain (15) FIN

Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, post break up, daddy Dean, fluff, new beginnings, hopeful ending

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

Designed by pain masterlist

Designed by pain (14)

“So, uh—how did your interview go?” Dean watches you walk back inside his home. While you had a meeting with Bobby, he was babysitting your son. “Y/N. What did Bobby say?”

“Bobby said that I could start next week. I told him that I’d need a few more days to talk to organize everything. I need to sell my house and get my shit over here,” you grumble. “Bobby offered to help me with everything. He’s got a dude for everything.”

“A dude?” Dean snorts.

“His words, not mine, Winchester,” you stick your tongue out. “So, you offered your help. I’d like to go house hunting next week.”

“Oh—sure,” he nervously plays with his phone. He points at your son, shushing you when you sit down on the couch. Michael is sleeping on Dean’s couch, cuddling his favorite plushie, and you smile. “I can ask Sammy to check on the legal stuff.”

Dean is squirming in his seat, nervously glancing at Michael sleeping soundly on his couch. “Why are you so nervous?” You watch him place his phone on the coffee table. “Dean, what did you do?”

“I did nothing,” he raises his hands. “I swear it was all his idea. That’s not my fault at all, sweetheart. Michael decided that he wants to live here with us from now on.”

“Enlighten me, Dean, lying bitch Winchester. How did my son get the idea that I’ll allow him to live here with you?” You put your hands on your hips and glare at Dean. “I’m waiting, Dean.”

“He doesn’t want to live here with me,” Dean grins now. “He wants to leave here with us. Mommy and Daddy.” That bastard dares to wink at you. You harrumph. How dare he put ideas in Michael’s head. “What do you say? Do you want the left or the right side of the bed?”

Dean enjoys the struggle on your face. You don’t know if you want to laugh about his cockiness or strangle him. Maybe both. His cocky attitude and smirk got you weak in the knees in the past.

“DEAN WINCHESTER!” You hiss under your breath. “You can’t ask me that after everything happening over the last few days. What happened in the past can’t be undone. We cannot just start over, Dean.”

“Why not?” He questions. “You are here. My son is here. We are going to work together from now on. You got your revenge on my mother, and the ring looks good on your finger. If there was ever a moment screaming second chance, it’s this one.”

“That was cheesy, Dean,” you snort. “Only because I turned my back on Ketch, my job, and my life in London doesn’t mean that we are going to get back together. It’s not that easy.”

“Why not?” Dean says again. He slowly gets up from the couch to cup your face with both hands. “I still love you, Y/N. I never stopped loving you. And, if fate doesn’t want to fuck me over again, you love me too.”

“Mommy?” Michael stirs in his sleep. He slowly wakes up and rubs his face with his plushie. “I’m tired.”

“I’m here, baby boy,” you say, shaking your head at Dean before you take care of your son. He slowly gets up and lets you guide him toward the guestroom Dean offered to your son for the time being.

“So—what do you say, Michael?” Dean pokes your son’s side, making Michael giggle. “Can I ask your mommy out?”

“Only if you get her ice cream too!” Your son exclaims. “Mommy said a perfect date ends with ice cream.” Your son whispers the last part, conspiring with his father. “Don’t tell her I told you so. She likes vanilla.”

“Vanilla,” Dean nods. “Noted.”

“BUT NO KISSING!” Your son suddenly says. “You can’t kiss my mommy. All her kisses are only for me.” Michael pouts. “That one guy asking her out tried to kiss her.”

Dean nods thoughtfully as his son tells him he kicked the poor man’s shin. You never heard of Steven again. He ran for the hills, never looking back.

Dean grins. “You protected your mommy from other men. Well done, son. But I can kiss your mommy, right?”

Michael nods while looking at the picture of you and Dean in the photo album he found on the coffee table. After you claimed his bedroom and told Dean to sleep on the couch, he was looking at old pictures last night.

“Hmm…” Michael wrinkles his forehead, thinking about Dean’s question. “Only if I can drive your Impala.”

“Bud, you’re too young to drive a car.”

“Not now,” your son grins. “When I get my driving license, you’ll give me your car.” He purses his lips and crosses his arms over his chest.

Dean gasps. His son is the devil in disguise. “You’re a hard negotiation partner.”

“Mommy or your car!” Michael grins. “You can have one kiss if I get your car!”

“You are selling your mommy for a car, Michael?” You lean in the door frame, giving your son a stern look. “This means no ice cream for you.”

“Aww…man. Now I won’t get ice cream,” your son sighs deeply. “It was worth a try.” He grins. “One day, I’ll get his car. Right, mommy?”

“Sure, baby boy.” You smirk at Dean. “Your daddy will give you his car because you allowed him one kiss.”

“Well, in that case,” Dean gets up from the couch to stalk toward you. “I’d better get that kiss and lots of ice cream.”

“I thought you loved pie,” you chuckle.

“I love you,” he replies.

Dean steps closer and closer to cup your face. He brushes his lips over yours, ready to claim your lips in a soft kiss.

“Eeek…” Your son scrunches up his nose. “No kissing before you bought mommy ice cream.”

Dean and you start laughing and hug each other. It’s the first time that you can forget about the past and think about the future.

The End...

Tags in reblog.

[hexedwinchester]

worst spn plot or storyline?

hi plot-critical noni!

good question! I have a couple of those that i don't like.

BMoL: Like why were they even a plot in the first place? i am not scared of Bevell or Ketch and neither should our boys. this was bland and a boring plot. their agenda of recruiting american hunters like some corporate poaching was lame

Leviathans: i'm sorry, you are telling me that purgatory's oldest, most ancient creatures can't handle borax? umm..what? what's next? shedims are scared of pizza seasoning? and don't get started on the dick jokes. dick jokes were the only reason why s7 was created. i would rather they spent more time on Sam's broken wall.

AU and Michael!Dean: completely unnecessary if you ask me as none of it ties to the finale. this was just an excuse to bring back AU Charlie and Bobby and let Dean be possessed by Michael which, again weird, because the dude just created hybrid monsters with his sword. that was laughable!!

there are other minor plots that i am not a big fan of but these three bore me to death! anyway, thanks for the ask :)

[unclenegan]

negan’s  season  12  -  14  arc.      negan  was  missing    /    absent  for  all  of  season  twelve  &  thirteen,  returning  in  fourteen.  let  me  paint  you  a  picture.  we’re  in  the  season  eleven  finale.  mary  winchester  has  just  been  brought  back  from  the  dead  and  the  boys  make  a  phonecall  to  their  uncle,  who    (  with  the  help  of  his  savior  army  )    had  been  helping  in  their  fight  against  the  darkness.  they  tell  him  there’s  something  he’s  gotta  see.  he’s  heading  to  the  bunker  when  arthur  ketch  runs  him  off  the  road.  some  of  his  men  are  killed  in  the  scuffle,  loyal  to  the  end  and  after  it  becomes  clear  negan  won’t  be  going  anywhere  quietly,  his  throat  is  slit  to  contain  him.  he  then  enters  his  prisoner  arc  by  being  placed  in  a  secure  unit  separate  from  the  base  that  the  boys  later  take  out,  held  in  captivity  for  his  many,  many  crimes.

it’s  important  to  note  that  somewhere�� in  the  middle  of  s12  or  s13,  another  enemy  known  as  alpha  has  revealed  herself.  once  an  ordinary  mom  name  dee,  dee  came  to  survive  a  possession  when  a  hunter  saved  her.  unfortunately,  dee    (  like  nick  with  lucifer  )    found  herself  addicted  to  the  power  that  came  with  being  a  vessel  and  sought  out  more,  allowing  temporary  possessions  just  for  the  high.  each  possession  chipped  away  a  piece  of  her  soul  until  there  wasn’t  one  left.  she  eventually  found  a  way  to  encase  demons  within  her  via  some  form  of  anti-possession  tattoo,  essentially  allowing  her  to  trap  them  within,  their  power  in  her  control  rather  than  her  control  in  their  power.  during  this  time,  alpha  murdered  her  husband  in  front  of  their  daughter,  lydia,  for  trying  to  intervene.  she  then  began  to  live  a  very  dark  life,  luring  in  people  just  as  twisted  as  her  to  form  the  whisperers.

his  location  is  eventually  disclosed  in  season  thirteen,  the  thing,  by  ketch  as  a  sign  of  good  faith  while  trying  to  earn  their  trust.  while  dean    &    ketch  head  to  the  apocalypse  world,  sam    &    castiel  follow  his  instructions,  only  to  find  an  empty  cell.  somebody  else  has  already  let  negan  out.  

we  don’t  actually  see  negan  again  until  the  season  fourteen  premiere,  when  it  is  revealed  he  is  working  with  michael.  it  is  the  ultimate  betrayal,  given  that  michael  is  possessing  dean’s  body  and  we  spend  the  next  few  episodes  thinking  he  truly  has  turned  on  them.  he  appears  to  be  in  a  relationship  with  alpha,  who  has  'allowed'  michael  to  recruit  the  whisperers  in  his  search  for  an  army  after  being  promised  more  power.  i  think  a  lot  of  harsh  words  are  exchanged  during  this  phase  between  negan  and  team  freewill.  from  their  perspective  and  the  viewer’s  perspective,  he  has  finally  become  full  monster,  turning  his  back  on  his  own  people.  big  yikes.

fast  forward  to  the  spear.  during  their  confrontation  with  michael,  negan  stands  with  the  archangel  rather  than  his  nephews.  he  witnesses  dean  almost  killing  michael  and,  in  turn,  michael  repossessing  dean.  in  this  scene,  we  see  him  look  momentarily  unnerved,  but  it  doesn’t  last  long.  him  and  alpha  eventually  flee,  presumably  still  loyal  to  michael.  at  the  end  of  this  episode,  we  learn  negan  is  secretly  communicating  with  lydia,  who  alpha  believes  to  be  dead  by  his  hand.  he  is  protecting  her  by  staying  close  to  the  enemy.  it  is  revealed  in  a  flashback  that  somebody  close,  i’m  thinking  mary    (  extra  funny  because  he  thought  she  was  rip  )    or  castiel,  was  the  one  to  release  negan  when  they  realised  they  needed  help  with  alpha.  they  had  been  aware  he  was  being  held  prisoner  all  along,  but  kept  it  quiet,  believing  the  world  was  safer  with  him  behind  bars  because  let’s  be  honest    …    he  got  a  little  fucking  psycho  there  for  a  while!  this  is  not  me  painting  them  as  a  bad  guy  in  any  way  because,  truly,  he  needed  the  time  out.  negan  sends  lydia  to  sam,  but  orders  her  not  to  tell  them  of  his  involvement.  instead,  she  tells  them  negan  tried  to  kill  her  and  she  escaped.  they  allow  her  to  remain  at  the  bunker.  

fast  forward  again  to  ouroboros.  negan,  alpha    &    a  handful  of  whisperers  are  present  when  michael  arrives  at  the  bunker,  now  possessing  rowena.  lydia  is  still  at  the  bunker,  under  team  freewill’s  protection.  as  michael  is  mid  grand  speech,  negan  finally  reveals  himself  as  a  double  agent,  having  never  truly  been  one  of  his  soldiers  or  a  whisperer,  but  in  fact,  always  a  winchester  by  suddenly  beheading  alpha  right  there  in  front  of  everyone.  sorry  for  the  trauma,  lydia.  the  whisperers  in  response  turn  to  him  as  their  new  leader  and,  using  this  in  his  favour,  he  takes  back  his  place  next  to  sam    &    dean,  ready  to  fight  michael    …    who  jack  then  kills.  negan  then  shoots  the  remaining  whisperers  present,  deciding  they  can  never  be  trusted.  they’re  too  far  gone.

there’s  a  lot  of  rebuilding  to  be  made  after  this.  negan  has  broken  a  lot  of  trust,  even  if  he  believes  he  did  what  was  necessary  to  take  down  alpha  and  remain  close  to  michael,  listening  in  on  his  plans  in  the  hopes  he  could  save  dean.  it’s  super  important  to  note  that  in  negan’s  opinion,  alpha  was  just  as  big  a  threat  to  the  world  as  a  vengeful  archangel.  he  knows  this  because  a  part  of  him  saw  himself  in  her,  despite  not  wanting  to  admit  it.  she  was  a  human  made  into  a  monster  by  the  supernatural    &    that  meant  he  knew  exactly  what  she  was  capable  of.  how  far  she  would  go.  he’d  also  began  to  see  lydia  like  a  daughter.  at  this  point,  he  reveals  how  long  he  was  held  prisoner;  how  the  surviving  saviors  not  slaughtered  by  the  british  men  of  letters  disbanded  in  their  leader’s  absence,  abandoning  the  sanctuary  which  had  become  overrun  by  a  vampire  nest  instead.  the  only  thing  he  doesn’t  reveal  is  who  played  a  role  in  keeping  him  prisoner    (  i  am  very  open  to  officially  plotting  this  with  someone    /    it  does  not  have  to  be  specific  to  mary  or  castiel  )    before  letting  him  out  because,  in  truth,  he’s  starting  to  understand  why.  they  merely  exchange  a  knowing  look  in  silence  before  he  leaves.  end  scene.

[techtalksfics]

The Phoenix Rises (Part 2 of If I had known - Tech x Reader)

Summary: The reader hasn't seen Tech, Omega or their brothers in so long. On the night the Empire stormed the city, she knew what had happened. Rising above her fears and insecurity, she sets out on a mission she doesn't know she'll survive.

Author's Note: So I don't know how good I am at combat writing. Not a favourite of mine. But I wanted to write a what happens next.

Warnings: a little gore and references to torture? No behaviour outside the ordinary Clone Wars episode.

Word Count: 7.6 K (I'm getting out of hand now)

“CIDDERAN SCALEBACK,” you voice boomed through the parlour, “get your slithery, scaley ass OUT HERE NOW.” Bolo and Ketch made a beeline for the door immediately and you knew why. You'd never raised your voice like that before, not with such anger. Never like this.

The before, you’d hidden yourself away, locked in your apartment as the chaos of the Empire swelled and boomed around Ord Mantell. From the window, you saw them take Omega. You saw them take the girl you considered to be your little sister. But what could you have done really? You weren't a solider. You were just some nobody kid from a nowhere part of the world.

Yet, it felt like it fell to you to fix this because deep down inside of you, you’d known exactly what had happened and who was responsible for it.

Cid appeared at the door, shoulders slumped, “alright, alright, stop your yammering. I’m right here.” The moment you saw her, you strode directly over to her and punched her square in the side of her face. She fell back, knocked by the weight of your full force assault. She knew she deserved that. She had been waiting for you to show up.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” You seethed, nostrils flaring, “you gave them up. Let me guess, received yourself a nice sizeable reward in return huh?” She stood straight and stretched herself at the shoulders and looked you square in the eye. She had a case in her hand, and you instantly knew that it was the credits she’d sacrificed their lives for. You sneered at her. Cid was taken aback, not once had she seen you this angry. "Their lives were not yours to destroy."

“It was just business, kid,” she responded neutrally, “stay outta it.”

“Just business?” You voice raised several octaves as you repeated that filth. How could she? “Stay out of it?! You've dragged me into it! They are family. They were my family. You gave me them and then you gave them up as if they were nothing.”

"They were just clones, kid." You grabbed the nearest glass on the counter and threw it directly at her head. Unfortunately, she dodged it.

"They were everything, Cid. You and your dodgy deals, your spineless nature. You. This was all you." You strode forward and punched her a second time, a lot harder this time, and this time when she stumbed back, you grabbed the case and opened it. Pretty profitable business for you, huh?” You scoffed, carefully picking up one credit and chucking it at her. “That’s all you get. The rest belongs to the boys that you gave up, you poisonous snake.” She came at you, greedy for her credits, but you simply removed your new blaster from your holster and pointed it directly at her. You didn’t need to look at her to shoot. You’d been practicing, just as Tech had taught you.  

The blaster had been a very strange gift from Tech. One you were currently very grateful for. He needed to ensure that should the Empire arrive, you could protect herself. And right now, she was the Empire and it took everything inside you not to fire. So, instead, you simply warned her, don’t. She would not use another one of these credits. They were not hers to spend.

“I was your family long before they were,” she retorted, handed now rubbing the cheek you’d hit. Twice. As you watched her pain you couldn't help but think, man, that had felt good.

What were you becoming? What had this done to you? You were never this person.

“That’s right you were,” You took a step towards her, and she instinctually took two steps back, “but you are no family of mine. I don’t’ even know who you are anymore.” You closed the briefcase, the heaviness of credits yanking your arm downwards. With that you turned on your heel, pausing in the doorway. You reached out to either end of the door frame to steady yourself, a shuddering breath escaping you. You turned your head back, but only a little, “You were better than this. I thought you’d change. But once a snake, always a snake I suppose. I’ll be taking the shuttle. The one Tech and I repaired for you. I’m not sure you’ll have far to travel anyway. Call it... karmic retribution."

“What are you gonna do, huh kid?” She moved towards you, “take on the whole damn Empire?” Her arms were flailing above her as she spoke. “You’re just a nobody from Ord Mantell. What are you gonna do?” That's right, you were just some nobody; a scared, confused and sad nobody from Ord Mantell. But right now, something was being reborn inside of you. An anger, a sense of justice. A war that was not yours had just become the very thing you knew you needed to be a part of. You needed to rebel, you needed to resist.

“I’m going to start by helping fix whatever fucking mess you created. They shoulda left you on Safa Toma.” You sighed as her hand reached for your shoulder. “Omega was too good for the likes of you.”

“Goggles is dead.” She yelled at you and you knuckles whitened for grip on the door. “The Empire showed up and told them. Threw his broken goggles right there on the floor.” She pointed to the spot that she’d seen him.  You knees buckled slightly as you stared at the spot, as if you could see his broken goggles there.

“Oh, and the Empire is widely known for its reliable intel.” You knew the goggles were either truly all that were left or a very clever ploy. When did the Empire ever tell the truth.

“Those boys of yours seemed to think he was too.” You sighed, you felt like your heart was shattering on the floor. It couldn’t be true, could it? Either way, it didn’t matter it was time stand up and do the right thing. You had to fight for Omega. For Tech, even if he had gone where you could not follow.

“Even if he is,” you dropped your hands, “even if that is true, I owe it to them to fix the mistakes of a traitor.” The word dripped from your mouth, burning her as she realised how much you now hated her. Turning to face her, your eyes filled with rage, “if I hear that you have provided so much as one more piece of intel, given them up in any other way, I will come back here and I will kill you.” Her hand dropped from your shoulder, shock withering her already aged features. “Goodbye, Cidderan Scaleback.”

You looked into the blue hues of the hyperspace and wondered what the hell you were doing. You were no hero. You had no abilities, no real skill with a blaster and you were heading to planet far from your own that you did not know. What the hell were you doing?

The right thing, you heart told you.

Truthfully, you did not know what you expected to find on Coruscant. You’d never even left Ord Mantell before, let alone travelled thousands of lightyears away to a planet you knew nothing about other than it was the jewel of the Empire. It was pure luck that the shuttle you had stolen from Cid had an Imperial clearance code, probably as a result of her treachery. You shuddered at the thought. But, at least, you wouldn't stumble at the first hurdle and that's enough of a start.

As you brought the shuttle into land, you immediately found the nearest attendant and asked them to fuel up the ship, tossing a credit in their direction. He was an overweight, greying man with no defining features. The perfect dockyard assistant. A humanoid who blended into the background. As the began to walk past you, you turned and queried, “oh and you couldn’t tell me how to find Riyo Chuchi by any chance?”

His eyebrows rose into his grey Imperial cap, and he responded, “the Senator?” You simply nodded. “What do you want with that clone lover?” You saw red at that. You would not have people judged for supporting clones. But beating a man would only land you in a cell, and you were not here for that.

So, instead, grabbing him the scruff of his collar, you wrenched him toward you, “Listen here, you overweight glob of grease, if I weren’t in a rush, I’d teach you a thing or two about manners." You pulled him closer, scrutinising his features to memory for future reference, "but, as it's your lucky day and I have places to be, I’ll just take that answer as a yes. Where do I find her?”

“Kriff’s sake,” he reached up and grasped at your hands trying to be released from your hold, “alright, alright. She’s probably at the Imperial Senate. That's where most senators are. I’d start there if I were you.” As you released him, he muttered lunatic under his breath as he went to refuel your ship. You watched him go with a sneer.

As you tried to walk away confidently from the scene, feeling eyes on you, you sped around the corner of the dockyard and towards the city. You took a moment to flatten yourself against a wall, your breath heaving. You were not this person. You didn’t threaten people. You didn’t assault people and yet, you knew that this was how the new world worked and Cid had dragged you out of the light and into the shadows of traitorous ascent. You needed to rise from your fragility and become something better. If you had any chance of surviving, you had to do what you must. After all, you had to fix the damage she had done. Placing your hands flat on the wall behind you, you focused on the cool sensation of the coarse brickwork.

You’ve got this, you reminded yourself. You had no choice.

You clambered your way up the steep stairs to the taxi rank platform. For a moment, you simply looked out a sea of lights and shuttles. This truly was a different world than the one you knew. Once you broke the spell of the view, you hailed one of the infamous Coruscant Air Taxis.  As you stepped into the cab with a sigh, you requested they take you to the Imperial Senate. Much like the shipyard attendant, his eyebrows rose questioningly but instead of saying anything, you simply sped off into the city.

You took a minute to admire the breadth and vibrancy of the place that now surrounded you. But this area seemed almost as seedy as Ord Mantell, it wasn’t until you rose above the lower districts that you saw it all. The remainders of the Jedi Temple in one direction and the shining beacon of the Imperial Senate. A reminder of what has past and what is. A sight of splendour and riches you had never known. You fondled at the Imperial chain code that Tech had made you that was secure in your pocket. Hopefully it would be enough to fool any guards that came your way. Hopefully there would be none.

When you finally reached the Senate, you took a breath before entering. Act like you belong, you reminded yourself. Though your scruffy appearance would do nothing to help you with that. As you walked as assuredly as you could, you reached the guard at the desk and immediately found yourself asking for Riyo Chuchi. When he looked at your questioningly and you sighed before continuing, “please inform her that we share a mutual acquaintance by the name of Echo. She will come down for that.” You mockingly lifted your chin high as you waited, nerves swimming around your body.

When the senator, with two armed guards, appeared before you questioningly. She offered her hand for you to take and you gave your name as you shook it.

"I need you to tell me where Echo is," you said, "last I heard, he was here and I need to help them." She pulled you away from the main stretch of corridor in the nearest alcove.

"Yes, your friend is here," she said, "but first, you must learn to be a little more covert with your enquiries. Dark things fester here." A warning that spread to her eyes as she kept you by the arm in the alcove. "How do you know Echo?"

"He is like a brother to me, all of the Bad Batch are. I came as soon as the Empire left Ord Mantell." She searched your eyes for lies, as a good senator must. But she only found truth and resolve so she nodded.

"I will tell you where to go," she decided, as she pulled you back into the hallway, "but first, we must act like good friends so as to not rouse suspicion. Can you manage that?" You simply nodded, placing a fake smile upon your lips.

Hunter called out your name in disbelief, as you walked to them as they huddled around a holomap, placed carelessly on a crate in front of them. The hanger was messy and crowded. Everybody seemed to be doing everything and nothing all at once. A blonde haired clone reached for the holomap and yanked it from the table as you approached. You couldn't help but yank Hunter into a drawn out hug. You were so glad to see him. “Hunter,” you greeted him cautiously, as you pulled back from the hug, still with the credits clutched to your side. “I – uh – know this won’t make up for what Cid did but,” you threw the heavy container onto the crate and opened it, turning them to face it, “I took the credits she certainly did not deserve from turning you in. I hope they can help you, help this, somehow.” Hunter appeared tired and grief stricken, now that you truly saw his face in the dim light.

“So, it’s all true then?” You murmured in disbelief, “they took Omega?” Hunter could only nod in response and then you realised if that were true, then, “and Tech is…” you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. The lump in your throat constricting your breathing. You felt the tears brimming at your eyes.

“He fell,” Hunter said, trying to catch your eyes, “he fell saving us.” Of course, he did, you realised. Of course, he’d bloody sacrifice himself for them. Plan 99, the plan you’d always known about. He’d told you about it of course. Of 99 on Kamino and the sacrifice he made. You had tried to make him promise that he never would, even though you knew he never would promise that. You knew that if the situation called for it, he would do it without question. But he also knew that you didn’t truly expect him to promise that. You knew him too well to demand such a promise.

“I’d hoped it wasn’t true.” You sighed, grief stricken but resolute, “what can I do to help? I have a ship, the credits, a blaster… though I’m not sure I know how to use it as well as clone.” As you rambled off the ways you thought you could be useful, before Hunter simply walked towards you and placed his hand on your shoulder. “Tech taught me enough, I can help, Hunter.”

"You seem different," he said, searching your eyes for something. "Where's that fear gone?"

"Where's your happiness gone?" And then he understood that your grief was no different from his own but they had impacted you in different ways.

“Listen kid, this is going to be difficult and without Tech,” he cleared his throat, “well, we are going to struggle even more. You need to be sure you are willing to lay your life on the line because we aren't sure we will make it out of this one unscathed.”

“I love Omega. I’ll do anything I can to protect her,” you placed your hand atop his, “I’ve got this Hunter. I’ll grieve for Tech when I know Omega is safe. Just tell me what to do.” Suddenly, you whipped your head around to stare at the blonde clone who stood there watching the interaction intently, realising you'd ignored him fully. “And this is?”

“This is Rex, of the 501st.” He reached out his hand to you as Hunter introduced you as a dear friend from Ord Mantell. A title you no longer felt you deserved but were grateful for none the less. You smiled at the clone as he observed you carefully. “Rex is helping us to try and locate Omega.”

“You mean you don’t know where she is?” You almost shouted, “how is that even possible?” You ran your hands through your hair in desperation. This situation was well and truly fucked.

“The Empire is running a clandestine cloning operation,” Rex explained with an air of seniority, “it is very difficult to trace.”

"Yeah, that tracks," you grumbled, "and without Tech, tracing them must be..."

"Difficult, yes," Rex kindly finished for you as your mind drifted back to his gentle caresses.

“Fantastic,” you groaned, before realising, “I know someone who may be able to help. He can be sketchy, bit like Cid but less of a snake in the grass, and his intel is almost always good. Cid introduced us years ago." With a new found sense of purpose, you affirmed, "just leave it with me, he should be here on Coruscant.” Neither clone had a better plan, so they shrugged trusting you just enough to try and salvage this situation.

"Just remember..." Hunter began but you held your hand up to stop him.

"Covertly and carefully," you said remembering the Senator's words. "Don't worry I've got this."

And with that, you took off into the night of Coruscant, determined to find Dexter Jetter. Friend to Jedi and clone alike.

About three rotations later, you'd gone over the plan countless times. You were lazing on some crates, one leg carefully dangling off the side, letting it swing back and forth aimlessly.

Wrecker and Hunter stood beside you. Rex, Gregor and Echo stood over the holomap you'd retrieved of Mount Tantis and all the intel you'd managed to coax out of bounty hunters in bars. As it turns out, being an innocent looking female meant that intel was given out fairly freely. If you just batted your eyelids a little.

"Question, if you don't mind," you said as you leant up onto elbow. You leg suddenly very still, "how many of these plans actually go according to plan?"

"HA," Wrecker's laughter echoed through the hangar, "usually, none. But that's where the fun begins."

"You and I have very different definitions of fun, Wrecker." You reminded him gently.

"That's cus you've never tried it my way," he retorted, laughing again. When he punched your shoulder gently, you couldn't help but smirk at him. He had a point.

"So, this is it. Mount Tantis. Rescue Omega. Maybe find Crosshair? High tail it out there before too much security shows up?"

"Terminate Dr. Hemlock should we find him too," Rex reminded you.

"Right, right right. Just a minor execution hidden amongst the rescue plan." You flapped your head back down, covering your eyes with your arm, "how could I forget?"

What the holy fuck had you gotten yourself into? You groaned to yourself inwardly. You just had to keep reminding yourself, this was the right thing to do.

You'd gone over the plan again and again aboard the shuttle. Not that it mattered; you knew there was no way it would be this easy.

You’d landed the ship several hundred clicks away. You had walked with tactical devices, a blaster and the company of nothing but clones for what felt like an eternity. You were barely able to control your breathing without heaving. You thought you were going to throw up. The uphill struggles you felt on the walk, clearly did not affect anyone else. Some cardio may be needed if I'm to keep doing this, you thought to yourself. Then, on top of all of that, was the cliff face, of which there was only one way up and the tip of it was nowhere in sight. You sighed and as you stared upwards, Rex came to stand beside you, to simply ask, “are you sure you’re ready for this, kid?” You nodded resolutely.

Just think of Omega. Just think of Omega. You repeated to yourself in an odd sort of mantra as you began to scale the side of the cliff. Luckily, you had some experiences in climbing on the outer edges of Ord Mantell. But nothing like this. You knew that if you simply did not look down and focused on each movement you would be fine. Climb slowly to scale quickly. That was what you had always known to be true.

“We’re gonna die. We’re gonna die. We’re gonna die.” Was all you could hear Wrecker saying beside you. You looked over to him, eyebrow cocked, as if to say, seriously? “I don’t like heights. Tha’s all.”

“Well that little mantra of yours definitely isn’t going to help.” You hissed back. “Climb slow to scale quickly,” you told him. “And stop looking down for goodness sake.”

“R-right. Climb Slow. Scale Fast.” He nodded before continuing his climb. You felt some comfort in knowing he was afraid too. It made you feel like less out of place amongst this group. You each continued upon the path upwards. Your hands began to ache and your legs throbbed from the pain but you knew you had to persevere. For Tech's sister, you reminded yourself. This was for Omega.

Landing at the top, you all took immediate cover. Noticing the dockyard was eerily empty, you all crept silently along to the wall, heading directly for the entrance. This was it. No turning back now. As you crept behind Rex, relying on his knowledge to see you through, his hand moved to halt you, as TK troopers, patrolled the hallway. You slammed yourself into the wall as quietly as you could.

As they patrolled on by, unaware of your presence, you pulled out the PADD and located the prison corridor where you suspected you’d find Omega. Directing Rex and Gregor down the corridor, you continued to follow the map as they guarded you. Realising you were suddenly assuming Tech’s usual roll in all of this.

Twists and turns, ducking and dodging all the troopers. This place was heavily fortified and there was only so many times that Echo could jam their security feed before an error was made. You simply did not have enough time and you knew when, not if, when this went wrong, it was going to be one hell of fight to get out again.

When you finally arrived at the cells, you searched and searched for Omega as Rex and Gregor set about freeing as many clones and prisoners as they could. You ran frantically down, head flipping from side to side until you found her. Your eyes went wide as she ran towards the barrier calling out your name in surprise. You raised your finger to your lips as if to quieten her. “Hunter,” you whispered, “over here.” Immediately, he was at your side, working on the panel to release the shield.

She immediately fell into his arms and you smiled; she had tears in her eyes. Until suddenly, she rammed into your side, hugging you too. Until she looked up at you, a pained expression on her features. “T-tech,” she began.

“He’s dead,” you sighed, “I know, kid.” “N-no, he’s down that way. I-in the testing facility,” she said all in one breath, “Crosshair’s there too. He refused to give us up. I – I don’t know what that doctor did to him. To either of them.” You could hear the desperation in his voice.  He’s alive?! Your brain was screaming in a million different ways. There was a ringing in your ears as your brain tried to take everything in. You handed her the map and told her to show you where. She pointed to the rough area where they were being held, though she said she couldn't be certain.

“Okay,” you said with authority, “Rex, Gregor… get these clones outta here and on that shuttle. Omega, go with them.” Rex simply looked at you with a smirk on his face and simply said, “and like that, she was a phoenix borne from the ashes.” You smirked at him and gave him a nod of friendship. Behind you, Omega went to protest your command but Hunter grabbed her shoulder and nodded that she should listen, “Omega, if you don’t get out of here then we came here for nothing. Please, go.” You'd gotten onto one knee, a hand on a shoulder. The whole thing, it was almost a beg.

“That’s an order, soldier,” Hunter murmured to her. The only thing that would make her go.

With reluctance, she took towards Rex and tried to help the stragglers reach safety. Hunter watched her dumbly as she did so. To have been so close and now leaving her in the care of regs was not easy for him. “Hunter,” you commanded, “Wrecker, Echo, you three need to come with me. Let’s go get our boys back.” Wrecker raised his hand for a high five and you smiled before raising your hand to his.

All stunned by your sudden authority, they simply complied. Everyone rushing into action as silently as possible. You knew that the alarms would be triggered as soon as someone checked the feed for the prison cell or when they noticed the feeds for the corridors leading back to the entrance had all gone dark. You had so little time, but you would not leave without him.

You’d lost him once. Not again.

You removed your blaster from your holster and began leading the Batchers down the corridors, stopping only to hide from further patrols or when Echo needed to disable a door or camera. The closer you got, the more nervous you became. What if you were too late? What if he was too injured?

There were so many what ifs running through your mind as you made your way towards the testing lab Omega had pointed out. And as Echo worked on the door, you thought your heart may explode for fear of what you may found.

That’s when a platoon of six TK troopers rounded the corner and yelled ‘halt’ at you. Echo paused only momentarily before continuing on the door. You reached into your pocket and threw a stunning device dead centre between them. Seconds later, they were down.

“Nicely done,” Wrecker boomed, and you gave him another stern look. Subtlety really was not his strong suit. “Sorry,” he whispered. The doors suddenly opened, and you turned.

What you saw did little to quell that fear etched into your heart. Tech and Crosshair were strapped to two separate tables and neither seemed conscious. After checking the room was empty, you ran straight to Tech, clutching to him in relief as the monitors showed the stable rhythm of his heart. You pressed your forehead to his clammy one. He stirred slightly. He was alive.

“Tech, hey,” you placed your hand on his head, tears streaming from your eyes, “Tech, it’s me. I’m here.” You stroked at his head gently as his brothers unbuckled his restraints. He reached out to touch your face.

“W-what?” Tech’s eyes were foggy, glassy. It was as if he couldn’t see you. What the hell had they done?! A rage surged through you at the sight of him. “What trickery is this? What cruelty is this?” He groaned out in pain, and he was finally free of the restraints. You continued to just stroke his hair gently, whispering gentle words of safety as he called out for them to stop. Once he was free, his brothers went to help Crosshair.

“No trickery, Tech, I promise I’m here,” you whispered close to his ear, taking his hand in yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. You realised you had little time and needed to convince him it was you. So you said the words that only you knew, “if I had but known…” you whispered lowly to him and his eyes finally focused, looking you dead in the eye.

“What are you doing here?” His voice an urgent plea, as the reality of the situation came crashing down upon him. “You shouldn’t be here. Why are you here?”

“Oh, you know, fancied a tea party on Imperial soil and who doesn’t love a tea party in a clandestine medical facility?” You joked and he sputtered a laugh at that. “I’m here for you, silly man. Well, technically, I thought you were dead. So, I was here for Omega and then she said she’d seen you. Now, I’m here for you and I’m not going anywhere without you. Not again.” You squeezed his hand again, his grip getting firmer on yours. “We need to move and fast. We don’t have long and I’m not sure I can carry your weight and fire all at once.”

“G-give me the blaster.” He mumbled, heaving in a weighty, laboured breath, as he moved to sit upright. “You keep me steady, and I’ll shoot. It would be the more effective plan.” Even halfway to death, his plans were still more logical than yours. But you were no tactician. Handing him the blaster, you placed his arm around his shoulder and counted him up to movement. His legs buckled slightly and with all of your might, you tried to keep him upright.

You looked to your left and saw that Crosshair had been on the bed next to him, unconscious. Hunter had gone to him with Wrecker. Wrecker lifted his limp body from the bed, hoisted him over his shoulder with ease and made for the door.

Then, suddenly, the alarms went. Well, you couldn’t help but think, that was almost a smooth operation.

When Tech finally steadied himself, he gave you a brief nod and you moved towards the door with the others. Omega was safe. Wrecker, Echo, Hunter, Crosshair and Tech were all with you. The full Bad Batch working together; surely, you’d escape with such a formidable group, right? Even if two of them were injured. They'd been injured before. This would be fine, right? But you couldn’t stop your heart hammering in your chest. You didn’t want to die. You’d just wanted to do the right thing. You didn't want to die here.

We just have to get to Rex on that shuttle. Then you would be able to go home, safe. But where was home now? Kriff’s sake, you moaned to yourself, no time for that now. Worry about home later.

As Echo opened the door, there was intense blaster fire immediately coming through the door. You pushed Tech against the wall to the right, earning an 'oomf' sound from deep in his throat and you simply held Tech to your side, plastered against the wall and hoped that the others could handle the TK troopers. Everyone held their position as the blaster fire continued.

“Am I about to find out about this infamous Wrecker strategy?” You joked as you held yourself and Tech steady against the metal framework of the wall.

“Hell YEAH,” he boomed and ran dead centre into the door frame, firing at will. Laughing as he did so. You peered around the wall to find his stance firm as he fired at will.

“It’s not really a strategy, is it?” You whispered to Tech who looked up at you.

“No, it is more of an active extemporisation.” He informed you and you scrunched your face up in agreement. Yet, his particular brand of explosive chaos seemed to be working. So you pulled Tech alongside you and made for the exit as fast as you could.

You were still able to successfully hide in the numerous alcoves but the moment you reached the open space of the hangar bay, blaster fire began coming from every angle. You reached for your second blaster and using your non-dominant hand to aim, you began firing at the troops blocking your escape.

You limped your way across the landing pad as Tech tried with all his might to hit on target as he aimed at the approaching troopers. His aim was understandably off but there was no excuse for their pathetic aim. Tech managed hit after hit until you reached the cliff face.

“Now what?” You shouted at Hunter, who appeared at your side. He lifted Tech over his shoulder and shouted ‘climb’ at you. “Wrecker, come on!” You yelled at the clone still emitting heavy blaster fire at the troopers. Echo had Crosshair loosely over his shoulder as he began to climb downwards.

You needed time, to get below the cloud line. You remembered the smoke device in your other pocket and as you threw it, you yelled at Wrecker to climb. And so he did.

You’d managed to buy yourself just enough time to get low enough that the erratic blaster fire from above missed all of you. Luck, that was pure luck.

As you ran through the wooded area, you continued to provide cover fire with Wrecker. Ducking behind and weaving through the trees as Echo and Hunter carried the fallen brothers to the shuttle.

As you got the gangplank, Hunter handed Tech back to you and began to help Wrecker buy some time. The ship was crowded with clones which, truthfully, was quite an alarming sight.

You helped Tech weave through the sea of them and then suddenly you called out, “which bunk is his?” Does it really matter, you wondered to yourself. You just needed to get him somewhere safe.

“Furthest on the left,” Hunter called out as the ship clunked closed and immediately burst into the sky. Wrecker ran for the gunner’s seat and began to fire at the deployed Imperial air support.

You followed his directions and lowered Tech onto his bed. As you stood to move, he grabbed your hand and appealed that you stay. How could you refuse him? You couldn’t refuse the man a thing. Placing your hand on his, you promised him, “I will be back just as soon as we actually get out of here.” He simply nodded dumbly at you.

He barely recognised this version of you. You were thinner, more exhausted, the mirth seemed to have diminished in your eyes. You were hardened. There was no fear. Where had the girl from Ord Mantell gone? This was not that like that night at your door. How did you change so drastically? From a girl scared of her feelings to a fighter for the rebellion. You gave orders, lay your life on the line, scaled up and down a cliff face and faced off blaster fire. His mind reeled at the changes, but he simply lay his head back and tried to relax himself. His body ached and his mind was exhausted. He was simply grateful to be alive.

The second you jumped to hyperspace, you ran back and knelt beside him, keeping his warm in both of yours and he simply lay there staring at you, he couldn't help but take in the features of your face. He'd almost forgotten what you looked like, thanks to Dr. Hemlock. Sudenly, Rex appeared in the doorway and came in to place his hand on your shoulder, “you did well out there, soldier. Kept your cool, mostly,” he said, glancing at Tech with a smirk, “we wouldn’t have them without your help. You have my thanks.”

“No, thank you, Captain, you didn’t force me to leave him again,” removing one hand from Tech's, you offered him your arm in bond, which he returned. As he left the quarters of the ship, leaving you alone with Tech once again. You refocused your attention on him, small tears of joy forming in your eyes. A small smile on your lips, until you noticed a peculiar look in his eyes.

“You seem different,” Tech eventually murmured as he squeezed his hand into yours differently. Tears began streaming down your cheeks.

“A phoenix borne from the ashes,” you reminded him.

“Well, I decided to paint my ledger with a little red,” you told him quietly, “that changes a person.”

"DAMN RIGHT IT DOES!" Wrecker bellowed from the doorway, entering with a laugh. "Wha' did Rex call you again?"

“That’s it,” Wrecker said, plopping down next to both of you, “your girl’s a damn phoenix, Tech. When she heard you were alive, weren’t no damn clone gonna stop her gettin’ to you. Told you you’d like my way of doin’ things.” He laughed again, clipping you on the shoulder with his first. You had to admit… deep down, you had enjoyed doing things the Wrecker way. Even if it was chaotic.

Wrecker fell silent and then you all humbly fell into a companionable silence. Then, Wrecker noticed you holding onto Tech’s hand and flushed a soft pink before excusing himself, rather awkwardly, realising he’d interrupted a moment of some sort. You'd been parted a long time, and he'd just sort of barged his way into it. He was just glad to have his brothers back.

“Is that true?” Tech said as he rested his head softly on its side as he stared at you. You shrugged, unable to truly process the actions of the past several hours. You truly were not the same person he had left behind all those rotations ago. “If I had but known…” Tech repeated, as he had done so long ago, with a soft smile on his lips, “if I had but known you were phoenix waiting to be reborn…”

“What can I say? You boys, Omega… you changed me. The Empire brought the fight to my family, and I wasn’t… I couldn’t…” You began to sob, a sob which touched every part of your being, with your head pressed into your joined hands. “You were dead, Tech. I couldn’t just go on the way I was. They took you from me.”

In that moment, Tech sat up in his bed with a slight groan. He patted the space beside you, and you complied still sobbing uncontrollably, he pulled you flush against him. “I am right here beside you,” he reminded you as he simply held onto you. You realised that these were the tears you’d been holding back for so long. It was over and everyone was safe.  “I do not intend to go anywhere again anytime soon. No tea parties at Mount Tanis for us.” You couldn’t help but giggle at this.

You wiped away your tears and stared at him with a sheepish gaze, “I blame that comment on the phoenix.”

“Well, the phoenix is certainly a mighty creature.” He placed a hand softly beneath your chin, encouraging you to raise your eyes, “one of hope and renewal. It is rather fitting when I truly think of it.” You placed his hand on his cheek and carefully brought his lips to yours. Gentle and sweet. You would push it no further than that. The sensation of his plush but cracked lips against yours was more than enough. A demonstration of the hope renewed in you now that he was at your side again.

You pulled away suddenly, a thought racing to enter your mind and interrupting your tender moment with Tech, though you remained close to one another.

“Hey, Hunter,” you called out and you heard the gentle thud of movement as he popped his head around the corner, “where the fuck are we going now?” Tech smiled as he realised your mind was still on the mission. Perhaps you were far more like him than either of you had previously realised.

“Pabu.” He said simply, before closing the curtain to the bunks and walked away.

“What the kriff is a Pabu?” You asked, looking at Tech perplexed.

“A remote isle. They - ” Tech paused to groan as he lay back down, “they will not find us there. Will you stay now?” He asked, searching your eyes for the warmth he loved so dearly. “I thought of you so often and now you are here. Please do not go away again?” Your eyes couldn’t help but warm at the sentiment.

And so, you carefully lay yourself down beside him and pressed your face into his neck. “I’m going nowhere. But promise me something,” you whispered into his neck and he hummed, “please stop going places that require that kind of extraction.” He barked a small laugh but the pain overcame it before the mirth managed to reach his voice.

“I will try.” He whispered as he turned his head into your soft hair with a contented sigh.

You’d all arrived on Pabu as weary refugees and were welcomed instantly. By Phee. By Shep. By countless others. Even though many of you had arrived, with very little warning that you would, they took you all in with good grace. They set about healing and helping you all wherever they could. You were grateful.

After spending the afternoon with Omega, simply catching up on all that you’d missed and chasing moonyo’s around the winding steps of the city. Hunter came and found you, calling you to dinner. As you moved to go with them, Hunter stopped you by the shoulder. Perplexed, you simply looked at him, fear etched into you. Where you no longer welcome?

“Relax,” he said as he felt your tension, “Tech is waiting for you. He’s down on the docks.” With a simple but knowing smile, he pointed you in the direction of his location. You walked slowly down the steps, unsure of what to expect. When you arrived, you heart soared. A healed Tech was sitting with his legs over the edge of the wall, simply looking out at the sunset.

“Hi,” you offered up meekly. He turned slightly to look at you with a small smile on his lips. You sat beside him on a woollen blanket with a grunt. All of that climbing had left an ache in your body that you’d never felt before and without the adrenaline, boy did it hurt.

“I did not know how to express my gratitude,” Tech began, adjusting his goggles. “Then Omega and Hunter recommended a simple dinner shared between us. Shep set up the dinner itself. I was just informed to be here at a certain time.” He looked at your awkwardly, and when you said nothing, when you continued to stare out at the sunset, “I believe I owe you my thanks. For saving my life. For saving Omega and Crosshair also.”

You looked at him with confusion, “that was very much a group effort, Tech.”

“Yes, well, they are clones. It is in their DNA to fight. It is not in yours. You went above and beyond all that could have been expected.” You reached in and kissed his cheek.

“I’d do it a thousand times over if it meant you were safe.” He simply looked at you as you couldn’t meet his eye. This was the version of you he could remember. Not the soldier. Not the tactician. The nervous woman he’d fallen for long ago. Suddenly, you turned and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek and his hand instinctually reached up to touch the spot which was warmed by your affection.

"I thought about you every day," you told him, taking a sip of your poured wine.

"I thought of you also, perhaps not every day. But certainly more than I should have, given the circumstances," he looked at you peculiarly, "I had almost forgotten those eyes. When I lost my data PADD with our photo and was separated from my brothers, I had to rely on memory alone. But I feel as though somehow you saved my mind." He showed you his new device in his hand, the photo had been placed the background once more.

You smiled up at him, placing a hand on his cheek. "Perhaps soon, a new photo would be in order?" He agreed wholeheartedly.

“You know, I think I could do it.” You said suddenly.

“Do what?” He asked quickly, wondering where your thoughts were.

“Help with the effort against the Empire.” You began to pick at your nails as you spoke. “What they’re doing… what they did to you, to so many…it’s wrong.”

“It is.” He agreed simply. “But there are others that could do that job.” He reached over the blanket and grasped at your fidgety hands and brought one to settle between you. “You were admirable and commendable. But there are others.”

“You don’t think I could do it?” It was a painful question to ask him. After all that, he still thought you were some fragile thing that needed protecting.

“I have no doubt that you could.” He sighed slightly, struggling for the right words. “I just wish that you would stay here. With me. At least for now. I have been craving to be near you, to be with you, ever since we left Ord Mantell. I do not wish to part from you again so easily. This war will go on for a long time yet. We can rejoin the effort after I have done all the things I wish to do. Things I hope you want to do as well.”

He reached over and cupped your chin, as you often did with his, and he quickly brought his lips to yours. It was soft and sweet and contained all the things neither of you could say to each other. At least, not yet. When you pulled away, an airy smile on your face, “I think I could do that.”

"Good," he affirmed, "now, please eat something. You're thinner than the optimum weight for someone of your height." He took a berry into his hand and pushed it towards you. Instead of taking it with your hand, you leaned forward, tucking your hair behind your ears and took the berry with your mouth. Not once did you break eye contact. His lips parted as he watched you. Yes. He certainly liked this bolder version of you.

[bigmouthlass]

Title:  Calling A Professional, part a

Series: Professional, part 1a

Author:  BJ

Fandom:  Supernatural

Rating:  Explicit

Pairing:  Dean Winchester/You, Dean Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/Jessica Moore

Synopsis: 'You' are a career-oriented young Omega too preoccupied with school to have a dating life. Your image-oriented family decide enough is enough and give you a screamingly inappropriate present -- a night with a full-service Alpha escort, emphasis on full. And stuff happens.

Tags:  Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, ABO, Omegaverse, AU, Alpha Dean Winchester, Omega You, Omega Reader, Sam Winchester, Zachariah, Balthazar, Gabriel, Naomi, Castiel, Benny LaFitte, Arthur Ketch, Abbadon, Becky Rosen, Bobby Singer, Jessica Moore, Alpha Sam Winchester, Alpha Zachariah, Alpha Balthazar, Alpha Gabriel, Alpha Castiel, Beta Benny LaFitte, Alpha Abbadon, Omega Jessica Moore, Charlie Bradbury, Billie the Reaper, First Time, Sex Worker Dean Winchester

AN:  Blame the walking talking PWP device that is Dean Winchester. All recognizable intellectual properties are owned by their respective creators and holders of any copyrights or trademarks. This is a not-for-profit work of fan art and protected by Fair Use.

---

“Are you kidding?”

Your cousin Rebecca shakes her head, flying that damn blonde mane all over the place.  Glaring, you wave a breeze past your nose.  Rebecca’s between boys again and she’s broadcasting interest signals to every Alpha within smelling range.  You check your watch.  God dammit, as it is you’re going to have to sacrifice another hour of sleep because this was supposed to be your study hour.  You do not have time to do lunch.

Except Rebecca’s speaking on behalf of one of the Family heads, an Alpha you’re supposed to call Uncle Zachariah.  You know him mostly as a signature on your tuition checks.  He’s not exactly pleased that you’re working on a degree instead of chasing a good Alpha but he’s never objected.

Apparently his patience has limits.

“Look, this service has an impeccable reputation--"

“I do not have time for this.”

“Make time, babyboo.”

You grind your teeth.  “Do not call me that.”

“Quit behaving like a child,” Rebecca says.  “Daddy made it clear.  Maybe it was okay to play it like you’re the cerebral ice princess when you were sixteen but you’re a grown Omega now.  People see you -- no Alpha, not dating, working all the time -- and they talk.”

No concern about your well-being or what you actually want, of course.  Once again you curse the absurd twist of genetics that caused you -- a surprise pregnancy between a couple of middle-aged Betas divorced from terrible first marriages -- to Present as Omega.  Things are expected of you, if you want to achieve your quietly ambitious goal of a scholar’s life without having to assume a mountain of debt.

“You hired a for-God’s-sake prostitute--"

“Escort, babe!”

“Someone receiving financial remuneration for sexual activities is a prostitute,” you say.  Because that’s what this is about; you have Alpha friends who’ll happily squire you around formal occasions just for the networking opportunities.  It’s making the conservative generation of the Family nervous that a healthy Omega with a legitimate blood tie is running around without making herself available to the right sort of Alphas, and as far as they know you’re still a virgin.

Which is correct.  That moment, when an Omega catches a scent from a compatible Alpha, gets all soft and slick and ready for mounting?  That’s never happened.  Certainly not with the frequency it happens to any of your Omega cousins.  Anael seems to fall in love every other month on average.  It all strikes you as ridiculous and it’d be nice to tell the Family to go to Hell and let you alone.

You’re more pragmatic than that.

“Look, it’s already set up,” Rebecca reminds you.  “There’s really nothing to be worried about.  It’s one party.  You and the escort get a chance to get to know each other.  Then he gets a call the next time you go into heat.”

“This is so humiliating,” you say.

Rebecca reaches across the table.  You yearn to throw your glass of water in her face but refrain.  She really is trying to be sympathetic.  “There’s nothing to be scared of.  Daddy told me this agency has Alphas that specialize in first timers.  All you have to do is relax.”

“Not helping,” you say.

“Just do it,” she sighs.  Because that’s what everything from the Family boils down to.  “You don’t have to enjoy it, but just do it.  Once it’s over Daddy and Great-Aunt Naomi will find something else to obsess over and you can go back to doing,” she waves a hand, making her bracelets rattle and her rings sparkle, “whatever it is you do.”

“It’s called anthropology,” you grumble as the waiter serves your quiche.  Rebecca tips her head and the waiter helps himself to a discrete noseful of her scent.

Disgusting.

---

A week later you’re dressing in your favorite gown and tying your hair up.  It’s Great-Aunt Naomi’s birthday party and you’re obliged to show up for a few hours and let yourself be counted amongst the Family’s membership roster.

If that were all, you’d be fine.  Take the chance to catch up with the least boring of your relatives.  But this is the night the guy your uncle’s paying to deflower you is coming to meet you.  And you’re nervous.

You open the portfolio sent by the agency.  The contract is a dense block of gobbledygook.  Someone’s highlighted the salient points, specifically in case you don’t feel absolutely comfortable and safe you can always terminate the service on the spot.  How the hell that’s supposed to work in the middle of a heat cycle, you have no idea.  Your heats are short but once you’re riding the tide your brain is good for nothing.

The opposite page has a profile of the specific professional who drew the short straw:

WINCHESTER, Dean M.  Six-foot-one, 190 pounds, brown hair, green eyes.  Cute enough, going by the snapshot paperclipped to the profile sheet.  There’s also a scrap of fabric tucked into a little pouch, a scent article that smells mostly like leather.

He’s also several years older, no higher education, and from his list of interests you anticipate a deep conversation about sports.  God damn your designation anyway.  If you were a Beta nobody would care if or who shared your bed.

“Bonsoir, cherie.”  Uncle Balthazar taps on the powder room door.  You’re staying at his condo while he spends most of his time abroad.  He’s volunteered to be there when your escort shows up, just in case.  “Are you ready darling?  I just heard the most awful racket from the garage and Harold tells me that’s your date.”

“Not my date,” you correct.  “My hooker.”

Uncle Balthazar winces.  “Mind your manners young lady.  It’s not the gentleman’s fault Zachariah has no sense of the appropriate.”

“I know,” you say.

Uncle Balthazar gives you an arm as you step into your highest heels.  “Darling, hold your head high and shine like the treasure you are and you’ll be fine.  I’ll be waiting in the sitting room.”

As he leaves you check the mirror.  Everything is in place and from photo distance you look like you belong amongst the Family rich and powerful.  With a little luck you’ll be back in time to get a little work done before going to bed.

“There she is!” Uncle Balthazar says as you stride into the sitting room.  There’s a man in black tie standing next to him.  “You look exquisite, my dear,” Uncle Balthazar brings you near with a light touch on your back and kisses your cheek.  “This fascinating gentleman is Dean Winchester.”

“How do you do?” you offer your hand.

Your gigolo takes it and brings it to his lips.  “Pleasure to meet you.”

The photograph does not do him justice, is all you can think as his eyes meet yours.  They’re green, all right, like spruce needles or forest moss or dark jade but not really like any if those things.  They study you with a warmth.  Delight, like this isn’t a business transaction and you’re the best surprise he’s ever seen.  His hand is warm, and his full pink lips are soft against your skin.  The touch sparks, like flint on steel.

“Yes, well,” Uncle Balthazar clears his throat.  “I’m going to go pick your aunt up.  I’ll see you at the party.  Au revoir ma petite.”

“Yeah, um,” Dean blinks like he’s just waking up from a trance.  “Come on, my car’s downstairs.  Let’s get going.”

“Yeah, of course, right,” you shake yourself, taking Dean’s offered arm.  Closer proximity doesn’t help, because now you can catch his scent.  He’s sweet, all caramelizing fruits and hardwood smoke and leather.  A hazy picture floats through your mind, one with less clothes and more heat and you on all fours arched and wailing as--

“Oh merde,” you say under your breath.

---

The car is an old but impeccably clean black Chevrolet.  You know nothing about cars but fall in love with this one immediately because the inside is saturated with Dean’s scent.  Warm and sweet and it’s working on your mind and body in ways you were not prepared for.

“Uht-oh, the vultures are circling,” Dean says as he pulls up to the hotel.  Sure enough there’s a gaggle of photographers perched behind velvet ropes.

“Lovely.  The more pictures they get now the more they’ll ignore me later,�� you say.

“Not your first rodeo?”

“Very far from it,” you tell him dryly.

Dean accepts a token from the valet and gets out.  Waving aside the kid in uniform going for your door, he opens it himself and hands you out, standing just far enough back to be out of focus as flashbulbs pop around you.  You do the little half turn pretending to adjust the strap of your bag, and right on cue Dean steps up with his arm cocked.  He sets a leisurely pace, facing forward with a blank expression, letting you draw the eyes.

“Not your first rodeo either?” you ask in a low voice as the photographers focus on the next arrival.

“Nope,” he says, shrugging.  “Usually when I take clients to these kinds of parties, I hang out with the bartender, eat my weight in finger sandwiches, and try not to start food fights.”

You cough out a giggle at the mental image of your cousin Castiel launching a pie into Great-Aunt Naomi’s face.  “You can do that if you want,” you tell him.  “I mean except for the food fight part.  I’m used to entertaining myself at these things.”

“Nah,” Dean says.  “I want to see if I can hear you laugh some more.  You’ve got a great laugh.”

He keeps doing that.  Giving you little compliments like statements of the obvious.  Like how pretty you look with your hair up.  And an impressed, “Awesome!” when you tell him you graduated high school two years early.  And when you try to brush off what you study as boring stuff, he looks you in the eye and says, “Anything you want to talk about, I want to listen.  I’m interested.  I’m fascinated.”  He’s either the best damn actor in the world . . . or he’s being completely sincere.

Something else is happening too.  Assorted relatives keep orbiting by, insisting you introduce them to Dean.  He identifies himself as your date and nothing else.  He barely looks at them, even ones like your cousins Toni and Bela and Annmarie, Omegas firing off interest signals like fireworks.  He speaks when spoken to, can participate in conversations, but he keeps orienting on you like no one else is real to him.

Or so you imagine because that’s how you feel.  The low-level paranoia that makes events like this an unpleasant chore isn’t there.  Not when Dean keeps touching your arm or your back.  During the dinner part of the party, as your cousins do their thing around your assigned table, Dean keeps holding up morsels of his food for you to try, keeps sneaking bits off your plate.  It’s an intimate thing to do and doesn’t feel out of place at all.  You wish you were alone, just the two of you.

You stiffen when you hear your name.  It’s Zachariah, and the way he’s looking at you makes your skin crawl.  “Enjoying the party?”

“Of course,” you say.  Just listen and nod in the right places, you remember your mother coaching you as a child.  Your Uncle Zachariah likes to think he’s in control.  Give him that and he’ll leave you alone.

“Good, that’s good,” he nods.  One hand goes on your arm, the other goes on Dean’s, and he leans in close.  “Just wanted to make sure you kids were hitting it off,” he says, shaking you in what probably feels like a gesture of affection to him but feels intrusive to you.

“Mr. Adler,” Dean says, and the cold formality of his tone is jarring compared to the easy and pleasant affect he’s had so far.  “We’re fine, thank you.”

Uncle Zachariah’s smile curdles a bit.  “You’re in good hands,” he tells you, and you unconsciously draw back.  His hand cups the back of your neck and the part of you that’s been basking in the warmth of Dean’s attention all evening recoils like a startled snake.  “The agency tells me Dean’s the best they have with first timers.”

It’s not like everybody in the Family doesn’t know.  Your cousins gossip worse than retirees at their favorite diner on weekday mornings.  But to have it tossed back in your face-- you honestly want to throw up.

Abruptly Dean stands.  Conversation for ten feet around goes quiet.  Brushing back Zachariah he pulls you to your feet.  “I think I could use a drink.  Don’t you.”

You nod, and when Dean puts an arm across your shoulders you press closer.  Dean’s warm, sweet scent chases away the cold chills and the instinct to run and hide.  Alpha will protect you, those instincts say, and you’re too freaked out to retort that you can protect yourself, thank you very much.

Dean leads you to a smaller secondary bar tucked in a shadowy corner of the ballroom.  “Tequila, straight,” he tells the bartender.

“Make it two,” you say.

“Woah,” Dean says.  “No way you’re old enough to drink.”

“I’ve been taking wine with dinner since I was twelve Dean.  I could probably outdrink you.”

The bartender serves it up without a word and you both slam it back.  The liquor acts like a slap in the face, clearing your head a little.

“This probably isn’t any of my business,” says the Alpha that’s getting paid to pop your cherry, “but does he usually pull that kind of shit with you?”

“What do you mean?”

Dean does a double-take.  “You’ve never had an Alpha come on to you like that?”

“Like what?” you ask, getting a little irritated.

“Babygirl when an Alpha starts rubbing the back of your neck like that it’s a dominance display.”  Dean gently lays his hand in that same place.  He applies just a little pressure and oh God, your heart starts slamming in your chest and you can feel slick at the tops of your thighs.

“Stop that,” you say.

“Yeah,” he says and backs off.  Part of you cries out, wants to leap into his arms, bare your throat, your body, everything.  “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Why stop now?”

“You’re smart, you’re beautiful, you work hard and kick ass.  Why are you putting up with,” Dean flicks a hand at the party proper, “this shit?”

“You tell me.  Why’s an intelligent good-looking guy like yourself turning tricks?”

Dean flinches.  The anger in his eyes almost spurs you into a run, but there’s something else lurking at the edges.  Shame?  Disappointment?  “I’m sorry,” you backpedal.  “It’s none of my business.”

“There aren’t many jobs for high school dropouts that let a guy gross eighty K a year, and I’ve got a father in assisted living and a brother in law school,” Dean tells you in a flat just-the-facts monotone.

You laugh without much humor.  “I’m aiming for a doctorate, the Family pays for my education, and Zachariah controls the money.  I’m ineligible for financial aid because my mother was an Adler of the Grand Rapids Adlers and student loans would put me in debt until I turn five hundred.”

The two of you stare at each other for a long moment.

“You wanna go out, get some air?” Dean runs up the Truce flag.

“So bad.”

---

Outside the fall air is cool and smells like peace.    You lead the way to the back end of the hotel courtyard, where there’re benches looking across the river.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again.  “I got no high ground to stand on when it comes to how anybody makes money.”

Dean huffs out an unamused little ha.  “My dad still thinks I hustle pool and scam credit cards for a living.  If he knew I work for an escort service he’d have a heart attack.  Then come back to life and shoot me.  Then have another heart attack.”

“Aren’t you worried he’ll see you on one of those daytime tabloid shows?”

“Nah.  Dad only pays attention to the ABCs.  Automobiles, Booze and Cowboys.”  Dean pauses, looking across the river at the softly lit rotunda of the museum.  “Doing this means Dad can stay in a good place and Sam doesn’t have to hold down a job while he’s at school.  Once he graduates, he’ll be able to start helping with Dad’s bills and I can quit and do something else.  Or keep doing it and retire young.  I dunno.”

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me.”

“I’m not, just thinking out loud I guess.”  A breeze blows in from the west and you shiver as it pulls gooseflesh from your bare arms and back.  “Oh, here,” Dean says, shucking out of his tuxedo jacket and draping it over you.  His arm goes over your shoulders and you let him cuddle you close.  It’s easier to see now, the firm layers of muscle on his arm and chest, how small your body is by comparison.

There it is again, that melting feeling deep in your core.  A part of you that only comes alive in your heat cycles is awake now, making you want to curl around Alpha the way a cat curls up in a friendly lap.  You’d purr if you could roll an R.

You feel Dean’s chest rise as he takes a deep breath.  “You’re not used to having someone take care of you, are you?” he asks.

“I can take care of myself,” you say, but it doesn’t have the hard snap it usually does when you point that out.

“Yeah I can see that.  That’s not my point.  You looked scared to death in there, but you didn’t look around for help.  How long have you been dealing with his crap on your own?”

You shudder, and Dean pulls you closer.  “I barely know Zachariah.  I only see him at events like this and when I have to give him my schedule every semester.  He pays for my tuition, so I have to at least be nice to him.”

“Fuck.”  Dean’s quicker than he lets on.  “I just dropped a damn mess in your lap didn’t I?”

“It’s not your fault.  Look,” you say, trying to push past the way being in his arms makes you feel warm and alive and wanting, “if you want to back out, I’ll make sure you still get paid.  It’s pretty clear Zachariah didn’t give a damn about me or the Family.  He . . . I don’t know what he wants.”

“I got a pretty goddamned good idea.  When you get home, check for cameras.”

You shudder again, feeling sick.

“You also might want to talk to a lawyer about your options as far as family money.  An independent lawyer.  You get me?”

“Yeah.”

“Anyway, Zachariah isn’t the one calling the shots.  You are,” Dean says.  “Do something for me, would you please?”

“Okay.”

“Close your eyes.”

You do.

“Just breathe with me a minute.  There’s nobody else here, just us.”  Dean lets the quiet hang.  He tips his head to rest on top of yours, taking your scent.  His own Alpha scent gets stronger, more complex.  More delicious.  “Pretend we just met.  It’s up to you, where we go from here.  If it’s what you want, I’ll take you home right now and you’ll never see me again--"

“No.”  You open your eyes and turn your head, meeting Dean’s surprised look.  “No I don’t want that.”

“Oh thank God, me neither,” Dean breathes and presses his mouth to yours.

You’ve been kissed before, and mostly it felt gross.  This is not that.  The only thing you can think is soft.  One of his hands cups the back of your neck and you sigh into his mouth at the way you go soft and slick under the touch.  The picture in your mind is in sharper focus now, now that you know Dean’s palms are a little rough and how his lips taste.  How would-- how will that feel when you’re in heat and every sensation jumps by a factor of ten?  “Oh God,” you whimper.

Dean pulls back and smiles.  “Dean’s fine, babygirl.”

You swat at his chest, giggling.  “No egotism in your family.”

“When you’re as great as I am,” Dean tells you, trying to keep a straight face and not quite making it, “it’s hard to be humble.”

You burst out laughing.

“Oh, share the fun?”  Uncle Balthazar, his dark red silk shirt open at the throat and smelling strongly like Aunt Anna’s perfume strolls up.

“Inside joke,” you tell him.

“Already?”  He smiles down at you.  “Just came over to tell you not to wait up.  I got a call from Gabriel.  I have to catch a flight to Madrid in a few hours.”  He makes a face.  “God, I despise Spain this time of year.”

“Did they make the toast already?”

“Yeah.  If you want to make a discrete exit now would be the time.”  He pecks your cheek, frowns, sniffs.  “My goodness.  May I suggest a quick dip in the river before you go?”

“Very funny.”

“I’m not entirely joking, ma cherie.”  Is he blushing?  In the dark it’s hard to tell.  Uncle Balthazar turns his attention to Dean.  “It goes without saying that if you hurt our darling girl in any way I’ll have your legs broken, yes?”

“Understood,” Dean answers.

“Splendid.  I’ll call in a few days.  Goodnight sweetheart,” he smiles at you and strolls away, whistling Hall of the Mountain King.

“He’s right,” you say, trying again to behave like you don’t want to climb Dean like a curtain.  “We can sneak out through the access alley that comes out by the old post office.”

Dean frowns thoughtfully, one finger waggling as he takes his bearings.  “Got it.”

You stand.  Dean doesn’t.  “Come on, we gotta get before the valets get busy.”

“Gimme a minute,” he says, pushing himself to his feet.

“Why?  What’s wrong?”

“God,” he says to himself, looking down into your confused face, “you have no fucking idea what you’re doing to me do you?”  At your very eloquent ‘huh?’ Dean pulls you tight to him and kisses you.  Reflexively you stretch to try and match his height, and Dean groans as your belly drags over the bulge at the front of his pants.

Blushing as your blood turns to lava, you say, “I’m sorry?  I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Never,” Dean says, “ever, ever, apologize to me for getting me hot.”

“H-ha-have you been like that all night?” you stutter.

“More or less.”  Gently pushing you back to arm’s length, Dean puts his arm across his face and takes several deep breaths.  “Okay.  I’m okay.  Let’s get out of here.”

---

You keep it together up until the elevator to Uncle Balthazar’s condo opens on the foyer.  Dean takes his jacket back and puts his face in the fabric, smelling your mingled scents.  “I’m never getting this damn thing cleaned again.”

“I will not be your excuse for dirty laundry, Alpha,” you say without thinking.

Dean’s smile widens.  “I could get used to hearing that,” he tells you, pulling you close for another kiss.

What was probably intended as an affectionate good night turns into something else, as the simple facts of safety and privacy make themselves known.  Dean backs you into a wall as your legs go weak.  He bends his knees and you moan as that bulge rubs exactly where you need it.  For the first time in your life you wish you were in heat, right now, Presenting, taking Alpha’s knot.

“Put your hands behind my neck-- good girl,” Dean says.  Your dress has a slit up the left leg; Dean pushes it up until the slit starts at your hip and reaches through.  “Fuck,” he breathes when he feels your slick sliding down your thigh, “you’re dripping for me, aren’t you babygirl?”

“Yes,” you whimper.  “Yes Alpha.”

“Tilt your hips up a little-- other way.  Let me get at that pussy.  Good girl, just like that,” Dean says, and you gasp as he touches you there, gentle pressure through the fabric of your panties.  You’ve tried doing that for yourself a few times but it never felt like this, nothing like this.

“Do you like this?” Dean asks.  “Does it feel good?  You have to tell me babygirl, I can’t read your mind.  Be a good girl and tell me.”

“Feels good,” you say through a tight throat.  “Feels so good, Alpha.”

“Makes your pussy feel good?”  You nod, biting your lip.  “Say it babygirl, tell me I’m making your pussy feel good.”

“Making my pussy feel so good,” you whine, being a good girl for Alpha.  Just the idea, being a good girl for Alpha, makes you weak, makes you want to fall to the floor and Present right now, let Alpha take you right there next to the umbrella stand and whatnot table.  “Please,” you moan, feeling the bliss adding and multiplying and clinging to Dean otherwise you’re going to fly apart.  “Please Alpha--”

“Come for me Omega, be a good girl and come in your panties for me.”  You choke on a whimpering howl as the coil in your middle snaps and pure pleasure floods every cell in your body.  Dean kisses you through it, swallowing all your moans and whines.

“Shhh, quiet babygirl,” Dean says as you beg him for anything, everything, just more.  “You need to get a shower and get some sleep and I need to go.”

“No Alpha, please, I need you, I need your knot, please--”

“Shhhh.”  He holds you until your body stops shaking, until your legs can hold you up on their own.  “It’s okay Omega.  I’ll be here when you need me.”

“I need you now,” you beg.

“If I get inside you right now,” Dean tells you, his voice hoarse, “I’ll last for almost ten whole seconds.  And to take care of you the way I want to, I’m going to need to be better than ten seconds.”  He gulps.  “A lot better.”

“No,” you moan as he puts your hands back down at your sides and sinks to his knees.  Your panties slither down your shaking legs and you almost fall taking your feet out of them.  Your pussy clenches and fresh slick floods out of you as Dean noses you through your dress, and from the look in his eyes it’s causing him physical pain to tear himself away from you.

“It’s okay,” he says, pulling you into a hug and kissing you, deep and desperate.  “Be good for me, go in and get some sleep.  I’ll call you tomorrow.”

And he’s gone, stuffing your slicked panties into his pocket.

---

The next day you float through your TA hours for Professor Visnyak and writhe through your Issues In Classical Archeology lecture, mind full of Dean and body longing for same.  In the cold routine of your life as usual he doesn’t seem real, like you were visited by some fairy prince with a taste for virgin Omegas.  You keep catching yourself sniffing at the air, searching for Dean’s sweet, smoky Alpha scent.

Your phone beeps a notification as you grind through a stack of Geology papers written by freshmen with zero interest in the topic, nibbling at a sad excuse for a Caesar salad and wielding a red pen like a Sith lightsaber.  Thinking it’s your father confirming he made it to Florida with the rest of the snowbirds you swipe the unlock and damn near drop the phone when you see a selfie of Dean posed next to the open hood of his car.  You barely believe it but in casual clothes and sporting some whiskers he’s even more handsome, and you thank God for the foresight that caused you to wear a liner in your panties today and double up on the scent blockers.

hi bbygrl

changing babys oil

whatre u up to?

Giggling, you lay your head on the pile of papers covering the TA’s desk and pose like you’d fainted, red pen clutched in your hand.

Grading.

Barf.

You set your phone down and go back to work, but a moment later it chimes again.

giv all As

less time, students luv u

After a moment’s thought, you type.

And miss making freshmen business majors suffer?  Can’t do it.

A second later, Dean replies.

as u were

(devil face)

---

RU on FB?

Yes but I barely use it.

When he asks you text your username.  The app on your phone chirps with a notification-- DM Winchester wants to be Friends.  Smiling, you accept the request.

would u do something 4 me?

Depends.  What?

take a picture every day

doesn’t hav 2B selfie

just whatevr ur doing or looking at right then

hav 2 go out of town a few days

might not B able to text every day

Out of town?  Why?

family bizness

10 hr drive to ks

HATE flying

do that 4 me?

Okay.  Why?  My life’s boring.

The three little I’m thinking bubbles bounce for several minutes before Dean’s answer pops up.

not 2 me

bbygrl

(kiss face)

---

Another thing Dean said to you on the bench that night’s been bouncing around in your head.  You’ve always just sort of taken everybody’s word for it that Family money is accessible to you, but only under certain conditions and only if somebody else approves.  When you posit the question -- in carefully worded hypotheticals on a Q&A forum run by the university law department -- the answer comes back to consult a specialist in inheritance law to be sure, but since you’re eighteen now and legally an adult, that might not be the case anymore.

You also do some reading on Alpha-typical body language.  Because you had to be overreacting, right?  Zachariah had just caught you in a strange mood, Omega instincts working like they’re supposed to for the first time in your life and preening under Dean’s focused attention.  But the more you read, the colder and more repulsed you feel.

“You’re awfully quiet.  Is something the matter?”

Screwing up your nerve, you ask, “Uncle Balthazar, do you know if Mother made arrangements for me in her will?”

“Of course she did dear, she met with Chuck’s people when she first got sick and had everything put in order.  You’ll never want for anything, she made sure of that.  Why do you ask?”

You hesitate.  “Why did Zachariah really pay for Dean to go out with me?”

Uncle Balthazar sighs.  “Sweetheart he was worried.  We all were.  It isn’t normal for a young and healthy Omega like you to show zero interest in Alphas.  He thought that once you’d had a complete heat, whatever the problem was would sort itself out.”

“I looked it up.  According to the doctor’s guidelines being a virgin isn’t something to be worried about unless an Omega’s almost thirty, not eighteen!  And the way Rebecca talked-- I mean, she didn’t come right out and say Zachariah would cut me off if I didn’t do it but she didn’t have to.  And as far as making people talk, compared to the crap Uncle Gabriel gets up to, me being a frigid bore isn’t news.”

Uncle Balthazar doesn’t say anything.  You sag against the kitchen counter, the strength going out of your legs.  God you wish Dean were here, warm and solid and safe.  The Omega in you craves Alpha’s protection, and you don’t like it but the rational parts of you agree right now.

“Uncle Balthazar--”

“This isn’t something we should discuss over the phone, cherie.  Your Uncle Gabriel and I are flying back to Michigan.  We’ll be there tomorrow morning.  Can you meet us for breakfast?”

You mentally reshuffle your day.  “I think so.  At the café?”  The café is the tearoom overlooking the river in the hotel owned by the Family.  Everybody eats there.

“No, we need somewhere we won’t be paid attention to.  That luncheonette in Caledonia Gabe likes, eight AM tomorrow.  We’ll see you there.”

You just stand there speechless, the hum of a broken connection ringing in your ear.

---

Later that day you’re bent over a table in the library, grinding through your Introduction to Statistics homework and listening to Mindless Self Indulgence.

Your phone vibrates.  It's Dean-- where r u?

Campus library.  Stats homework.

Kill me now.

nope.

bad luck to kill someone when ur holding their underwear

(leering face)

You gasp, covering your mouth when you see dirty looks coming from the other students.

DEAN!

A hand taps your shoulder and you almost hop straight to Heaven.  Dean's got a hand over his mouth turning red from holding in a huge laugh.  You drop your Statistics text and throw your arms around his neck, kissing the laugh right out of his mouth.

Some sarcastic soul starts a round of applause.

"Thank you, thank you, you're a wonderful crowd, try the veal, tip your waiter," Dean says, waving it off.  “I come bearing caffeine,” he tells you, plunking a carrying caddy with two big cups and a baggie full of sugar and creamer and flavoring packets on the table.

“Oh bitter fuel of life, come to me,” you sigh, grabbing one of the cups and taking a long sip of the hot black liquid.

“You take it black,” Dean says, like he’s making a mental note.

“Just like my metal,” you cap the line, but not surprisingly Dean doesn’t catch it.

“Quick-- favorite Led Zeppelin song,” Dean says.

“Houses of the Holy,” you say without thinking.  “Yours?”

“Ramble On.  Can you take a break?  Just for a few minutes?”

“Sure, I was about done here anyway,” you say, packing your stuff.

---

“This is where you took your picture day before yesterday isn’t it?” Dean asks as you walk with him across the pedestrian bridge spanning a deep crease in the earth cut when the glaciers retreated.  Far below a streamlet of rain runoff flows down into a storm drain.  The trees growing on the edges of each slope are in full color, brilliant oranges and yellows and one maple tree that turns purple-red every year.  Dean points to it.  “I recognize that tree.”

“Mmm-hmm.”  You sit on a bench set against the bridge railing.  Dean doesn’t sit with you.  Instead he goes to his knees in front of you and wraps you in his arms, nose pressed against the side of your neck.  You breathe him in and shut your eyes as Alpha’s scent wraps your spirit in warmth.  You turn your head and Dean’s right there, meeting your lips in a tender kiss.

“Missed you,” Dean says.

“Me too,” you admit.  “A lot.”  It’s been two weeks and feels like a million fucking years.

You put your hands on either side of Dean’s face, feeling his afternoon scruff scrape your palms.  In daylight he looks even more gorgeous than he did that night, sunshine picking up golden and coppery tones in his hair and bringing out amber tones in his green eyes.  But there’re deep shadows under his eyes and his skin is too pale.  You’ve spent too much time around people functioning on caffeine and stress to miss the signs.  “Are you okay?  You look like you haven’t been sleeping.”

“Good guess.  I’ve been driving since four this morning.  I gotta go home and crash but I wanted to see you first.”

“Aw,” you kiss him again, smiling.  “I can spare an hour until my next class if you want to grab a snack or something.”

“I can’t babygirl  I’ve gotta get a few hours rack time.  I got a job tonight.”

You stiffen.  The reminder of just what it is Dean does for a living feels like a faceful of icy water.

Dean’s arms are firm around you and before you can get up enough torque to really struggle he clarifies, “Not that kind of job.  It’s a bodyguard gig.”

“Oh.”  You hang your head.  It’s not like you didn’t know the score, and you’re both adults, and it’s really not appropriate for an Omega to get possessive.  You’ve known Dean a grand total of a fortnight and change.  You don’t have any special claim on his time.  Or his body.

Like hell I don’t, that Omega-voice says, quiet but steely.

“Bodyguard?”

“I spent a few years in the Army.  I got good reflexes, I’m a dead shot, and I can do double-duty as arm candy.”

“I’m sorry,” you say meekly.  “It’s not really any of my business.”

“Before you ask,” Dean says, “I take the other kind of gigs because the pay is about ten times better and there’s a lot more demand.”

Assuming Dean can’t talk about his job particulars, you change the subject.  “Can you meet me tomorrow for, I dunno, lunch or dinner or something?”

“I should be back in town after seven.  We could get something to eat, sure.”  Dean sits back on his heels, your hands held in his.  “Is something wrong babygirl?”

Briefly you explain what you’d found out poking around online.  “I tried to talk to Uncle Balthazar about it but he told me he didn’t want to talk about it over the phone.”

Dean swears.  “I hate it when you’re right Sammy,” he grumbles.

"What?"

"I mentioned my brother's in law school, right?"  You nod.  "Last time I talked to him I asked him whether or not you could get locked out of any family trusts after you turned eighteen."

"From what I found, I need to talk to an actual lawyer for a definitive answer," you say.

"That's what he said too, but he pointed something else out."  Dean squeezes your hands.  "Look, I hope I'm wrong about your uncle.  I . . . I could've been overreacting, I really don't like watching Alphas act like that around Omegas.  Especially when it's family."

"But," you prompt.

Dean sighs.  "Imagine how it looks to anybody who doesn't know you.  Grew up rich--"

"Not hardly."

"Let me finish.  By the standards of people who make up most of the taxpaying public around here you grew up with a silver spoon up your butt, okay?"

You roll your eyes but concede his point.

"Never been in a serious relationship, never been in a casual relationship," Dean goes on.  "From the info Mr. Adler provided, you've barely even dated.  Then you go out in public with a," he grimaces a little, you're not sure he knows he's doing it, "professional escort once, and all of a sudden you want access to the family checkbook?"

You feel your face drop in shock.  You'd thought your parents raised you as a rational, skeptical, borderline cynical person.  Not even close.  "To anyone who doesn't know me," you echo Dean's phrasing, "I either look impossibly naive or like a greedy bitch.  Emphasis bitch.  And you look--"

"--like a knothead asshole taking advantage of an Omega kid with a crush."  Dean smiles into your ashamed face.  "Don't worry about me babygirl, I can take care of my own reputation.  Such as it is.  I'm just saying, until you know for sure whether or not your uncle's trying to do something shady--"

"--I probably shouldn't be talking to you about it," you finish.  You feel like you need to curl up and cry.  The list of friends you can take something like this to doesn't exist; the few who don't have some sort of connection to the Family, you don't feel you know them well enough to confide in.  Not something like this.

"Hey," Dean says softly, brushing a hank of hair back off your face, palming your jaw.  "Whatever happens, I got your back.  Count on that."

"I do," you say, meaning it.  "Meet me anyway?  I just . . ." you laugh a little helplessly, "I don't care if all we do is fall asleep on the couch watching the Lions lose."

Dean looks down a second, his Adam's apple bobbing on a gulp.  When he looks into your eyes again, your mouth goes dry.  "Babygirl.  The next time I get you in private, we will not be sleeping."

---

You're still flushed from all the thoughts that sentence put in your head as you walk into the Salt Shaker Grill the next morning and find Uncle Balthazar and Uncle Gabriel at the corner table.  With them, to your surprise, is your cousin Castiel. 

"Darling," Uncle Balthazar says, standing and kissing your cheek.  "You look well.  Infatuation agrees with you."

"Yeah, you're all pink and glowy," Uncle Gabriel adds with a sardonic little grin.  "Who are you and what've you done with our girl?"

"Up yours Uncle Gabe," you say.

"I took the liberty," Uncle Balthazar says, pointing to a plate heavy with bacon and eggs, toast on the side.  "You hardly eat enough to keep a mosquito alive."

"Okay kiddo," Uncle Gabriel says after giving you a minute with your breakfast.  "Before we tell you why we wanted to talk face-to-face, I need you to be honest with me.  Okay?"

"Sure Uncle Gabe," you say.

"What exactly happened, to make you ask Balthy why Zach went and hired an escort for you?"

You explain about the incident at Great-Aunt Naomi's birthday gala.  When you tell about how Zachariah touched your neck, Uncle Balthazar interrupts, "Show me how he touched you, love."

You put your hand just under where your neck becomes your skull and squeeze.  The Alphas at the table exchange a look.  "I thought I was just-- I don't know, maybe the shrimp wasn't agreeing with me?  Dean told me Alphas do that as a dominance gesture."

"Yes they do," Uncle Balthazar says.  "Pressure, right in those spots," he rubs just behind one ear, "stimulates the pheromone glands.  It's a little like rubbing the small of a woman's back."

"That's a foreplay move, kiddo," Uncle Gabriel says.  "When Balthazar told me about it, I thought it was Zach just being a dick.  He gets like that sometimes when he drinks.  The only time you're around Zach is at Family crap like that party.  You're never alone with him."

"But it occurred to me," Uncle Balthazar says, more serious than you've ever seen him, "that that's not true."

"I saw the incident," Castiel says in his gravely voice, making you look at him in surprise.  You vaguely remember seeing Castiel at an adjoining table, deep in conversation with his date and not paying much attention to the party.  Castiel's a shy duck, and a bit socially awkward.  He works with Zachariah, one of the many spiders keeping the money web snug.  "I'm sorry I didn't intervene.  By the time I realized what was happening, your escort had already taken control of the situation."

"Zach insists on vetting your class schedule and making out your tuition payments personally, right?" Uncle Gabriel asks.

"Yeah, every semester."  You shrug.  "I take him my schedule, he pretends to be interested, he makes a big production out of writing the check, and I leave."

"And are you alone with him when you have these meetings?" Uncle Balthazar asks.

"Yeah," you say.

Uncle Balthazar hesitates.  "Darling, please know I love you and I would never do anything to hurt you.  But we have to know.  When Zachariah's alone with you, does he do things like this?"  He takes your hand and his thumb rubs the nerve cluster just below your wrist.  He puts an arm around you as though to hug you but his fingers press into your waist in a way that makes your breath catch.  His hands span your back, one between the shoulderblades and one low on your spine.  You can feel him tracing your bra strap as he pulls you close, pressing your breasts into his chest.

"Stop that," you say, pulling back.

"You legit didn't realize those were dominance gestures."  It's not a question.

"As I pointed out," Uncle Balthazar says to Uncle Gabriel, "she wouldn't.  Most of us learn those tells as we start dating.  Or by watching our parents."

"Except your parents were both Betas, and you don't date," Uncle Gabriel concludes.  "Puts kind of an unpleasant spin on Zach hiring a sex worker to pop your cherry."

"Oh for God's sake Gabriel," Uncle Balthazar says, "have a little consideration for the child's feelings will you?"

"She's not a child Balthy," Uncle Gabriel says.  "Us overlooking that is the whole reason this has gone as far as it has."

You push your plate aside, the appeal of the food gone.  "What am I going to do?  I have at least six more years until I get my PhD and financial aid is out of the question."

"That will never be a problem,” Uncle Gabriel says.  “Even if Zach cuts you off you'll be taken care of.  We owe your mother that much.  I'm putting that in writing."

"Me too."  Uncle Balthazar tips you a wink.  "Not all of our money is Family money, cherie."

"Overseeing the Family trusts is part of my job duties," Castiel says.  "Your mother set up a trust in your name when she had her will updated, to be held by the Family until you turned eighteen.  The process of turning that trust over to you should have begun months ago.  When I asked Zachariah, he told me things was on hold until your summer break when you would be free for court dates."

"Except that doesn't make sense," Uncle Gabriel says.  "Your birthday was in January.  Chuck's a gutless wonder but it's not like him to be inefficient."

A silence falls over the table.  You sense a boundary’s about to be crossed, and you ask, "Why didn't you want to talk about this over the phone Uncle Balthazar?"

"Because if what I think is happening is happening," Uncle Balthazar tells you, "it dovetails rather neatly with some suspicions Gabriel and I have had for years."

"We think Zach's been filching the Family fortune," Uncle Gabriel says it, bald and ugly.

"Irregularities have been appearing consistently in the bookkeeping," Castiel says, his usual frown deeper than usual as your mouth drops open in shock.  "Someone going to improbable lengths to conceal cash transactions, source and destination."

"The only people who have the access to do that kind of Catch Me Fuck Me with the books are the Old Lady," Gabriel is the only one alive who gets away with calling Great-Aunt Naomi the Old Lady, "Michael," the public face of the Family, "Raphael," the Family politician and a state representative in Lansing, "and Zachariah."

"Naomi has no motive or need.  Neither does Michael.  Raphael wouldn't be that stupid, not while he's running on an austerity platform, a corruption charge would destroy him politically," Uncle Balthazar says, ticking his points off on his fingers.  "Until recently, I would have said Zachariah had no motive or need either."

"You don't know him the way I do, Balthy," Uncle Gabriel says.  "Zach's always relied on being the Old Lady's favorite son.  I don't like thinking this way, kiddo," he says to you, "but if he's doing what I think he's doing, he's going to start openly courting you to mate and he's worked really fucking hard to make you think you had to stay in his good graces or risk losing everything."

"Oh my God," you say, swallowing hard to keep from throwing up your eggs over.  "He can't do that-- he's my fucking uncle--"

"Great-uncle, a few times removed," Castiel corrects.  "Legally there would be no barrier."

"Legally shit!"

"Agreed, my love," Uncle Balthazar says.  "Zachariah miscalculated when he purchased your new friend's services.  Fresh eyes see clear.”

Zachariah?  Thinking of you as his?  "I'm gonna be sick," you croak and scramble for the ladies room.

---

“It wasn’t your fault Pamela,” Uncle Gabriel’s explaining to a dark-haired woman in an apron.  “My niece just got some really crappy news.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize on your own behalf.  “Everything was really good.”

The woman’s stern expression melts.  “Oh that’s okay sugar.  Do you want me to bring you some ginger ale?  It’ll help settle your stomach.”

“Thank you,” you nod.

“So anyway,” Uncle Gabriel says, “what Balth and Cas told me got me thinking.  Cas doesn’t have any hard proof Zach’s been skimming, he’s just the likeliest suspect.”

You remember what Dean said and just like that you know something.  “It’s Chuck isn’t it?  Chuck’s covering for him.”

“Very good,” Uncle Gabriel says, giving you a chilly smile.  “And if Chuck is dirty, none of us are safe.  He knows where all the bodies are buried.”

“Literally?”

“Best you be able to say for the record that we never answered that question,” Uncle Balthazar tells you, and you hush up.  Balthazar’s role in the Family business has never been completely explained to you.  “Look, the point is, if Zachariah’s been foolish enough to illegally block your access to your mother’s money, and if we can prove it, it could be the smoking gun we need.”

“We get control of the Family business away from Zach, we get Chuck disbarred and possibly thrown in jail, and we avoid a situation with the IRS and the Feds,” Uncle Gabriel winds it all up.  “If the law gets involved we could lose everything.”

“Not everyone in the Family has independent support,” Uncle Balthazar says, “and while I couldn’t give a damn about some of them that list includes you.”

“Okay,” you say, accepting the cool cup of ginger ale from Marybeth.  “What do you need me to do?”

“For right now?  Act normal,” Uncle Gabriel says.  “I know you’re still seeing this Dean guy--”

“Don’t ask me to stop.”

“I wouldn’t kiddo,” Uncle Gabriel says.  “Balth tells me you two hit it off.  Big time.”

“They certainly smelled very cozy with each other,” Uncle Balthazar says.

“The way Mr. Winchester immediately acted to keep her away from Zachariah,” Castiel observes, “it was not the action of a detached professional.  A detached professional would have been more concerned about appeasing his patron than ensuring your comfort.”

“I’m not going to be the one telling you to quit seeing a guy who was ready to throw down for you an hour after meeting you,” Gabriel says.  “But for the love of God be careful.  If Zachariah starts throwing money around--”

“Dean wouldn’t do that,” you defend your Alpha.

“Not saying he would.  I did some digging,” Uncle Gabriel says, “and a quick hundred thousand would solve all sorts of problems for him.  Zach can write that kind of check, easy.  He probably spends more replacing the towels in the hotel after New Year’s.”

“And if someone got the idea Dean was only seeing you to get access to Family money,” Uncle Balthazar says.

“That’s what he said.”  You tell them about the conversation the two of you had earlier.

“Guy’s not a complete dumbass,” Uncle Gabriel notes.

“And he’s completely besotted with her.  Anyone with eyes could see it,” Uncle Balthazar says.

“I agree,” Castiel adds.

“When do you see him again?” Uncle Gabriel asks.

“Later today.”

“If he tells you that his boss, or Zach, or Chuck got in touch with him and asked him to do something with you off-contract,” Uncle Gabriel says, “you need to tell me right away.  An unscrupulous escort can make a lot of extra money in blackmail too.  I’m not saying,” he says, holding up a hand as you open your mouth, “that Dean would.  Just the insinuation might be enough to fuck us up.”

“Zachariah,” never again will you think of him as Uncle, “is acting like he’s my Alpha-in-waiting.  Is blackmail an option for us?”

“That’s not a discussion you need to be privy to.  You neither, Castiel.  Let us old men handle the scheming,” Uncle Balthazar says.

The four of your rise and Uncle Gabriel leaves a pile of tens on the table.  “Thanks Pamela.  Take her easy.”

“Incidentally,” Uncle Balthazar says as he escorts you to your car, “I’ll be staying with your Aunt Anna whilst I’m in town.  You young people might need a little privacy.”

“You’re supposed to tell me Dean’s a prostitute and I can’t trust anything he says or does is real,” you say, feeling very tired suddenly.

“Darling, how often do you think a professional takes time out of their day to just take their clients for a walk?  Or leave absurd little memes on their social media?  Or indulge your ridiculous love for cartoons?”  Uncle Balthazar puts his arm around your shoulders, an affectionate, comforting weight.  You take in his familiar scents of lilies and sandalwood.  “I’m not going to say it’ll be anything lasting, cherie.  First loves almost never are.  But just because a relationship proves temporary, that doesn’t mean it wasn’t worthwhile.”

“Better to have loved and lost?”

“Good God, no.  The only person who can decide what’s an acceptable risk when it comes to your heart is you.  Don’t let our cynicism ruin a chance at a little genuine happiness.”

His characteristic smirk reappears.  “And do try not to break any of the furniture.”

---

“You can sight-read Latin?”

Dean shrugs, picking a cheese stick out of the basket.  “Long story.  And wouldn’t you know-- none of the high schools I went to would give me a language credit for it.”

You look up from the pictures you took in lab, of linen and parchment scrids covered with heavy block printing.  “How may times did you change schools?”

“Lost count,” Dean says.  “When I finally gave up I was like two years behind.”

“Why?” you ask.  “You’re a smart guy.”

“That’s an even longer story, babygirl.”

You put your phone down.  “I have time.  These damn parchments have waited three hundred years.  They can wait another couple minutes.”

Dean stares at you, taking a sip of his drink.  The two of you are holding down a table in your favorite greasy spoon just off downtown, Harvelle’s Filling Station.  It’s open 24 hours and the management doesn’t care if you take a few hours to get some homework done in the relative peace and quiet.  The urge to apologize for prying comes but this time you resist.

“Our-- me’n’Sammy, our mom died when I was four and Sam was a baby.  House fire.”

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” you say.  You reach for Dean but he shifts out of your reach.  It hurts, but you leave your hand there, an invitation for Dean to take or leave.

“Dad never got over it.  Something up here,” Dean taps his temple, “just broke.  He started saying he saw someone in Sammy’s room, that whoever it was was out to get us.  Then our grandma died of a stroke and he started drinking.

“Would you believe until I got my discharge the longest I ever lived anywhere was ten months?  Dad would move us somewhere, get a job -- legal or otherwise -- we’d start to settle in, but then the nightmares would start up again.  He’d disappear a lot, sometimes for weeks.”

“Jesus.  Who was taking care of you?”

“We took care of ourselves, pretty much,” Dean says.  “But it got bad sometimes.  Dad would come home and start screaming at us in Latin, crazy shit about the sixty-six seals and the end of the world.  I forged a work permit when I was thirteen and started working.  Did a lot of other shit I’m not proud of.”  Dean shrugs.  “School just wasn’t as important as making sure Sammy was fed and safe.  I got caught hustling poker when I was seventeen and the DA gave me a choice-- Army or jail.  I picked Army.  At least then Sammy got a steady income.”

“Where were you deployed?”

“Afghanistan.  Three years into my contract, my Uncle Bobby had a heart attack and I got a hardship discharge to come back and take care of him and Sam.  Don’t look at me like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like I’m some three legged puppy or something.  Dad’s okay, Sam’s okay, I’m okay.  That’s what matters.”

You can’t help it though.  It’s too damn easy to picture Dean as an underfed kid fighting tooth and claw to keep everybody’s shit together.  Dean comes by his cynicism honestly, you realize, more honestly than you in any case.

“Anyway, it’s not your job to take care of me.”

“I thought we left the job thing about six exits back,” you say.

“Not what I meant,” Dean says.  “I’m an Alpha.  Alphas take care of Omegas.”

“If we’re bringing designations into it,” you say, “it’s just as valid to say,” you point your thumb back at yourself, “I’m the Omega, it’s my job to be caring and nurturing to my Alpha.”

A light comes in Dean’s eyes and he smiles.  “Your Alpha?”

You replay your last sentence.  “Did I say that?”

“Yep.”  Now Dean takes your hand, bringing it up to scent your wrist.  He meets you halfway across the table for a soft kiss.

“Hey hey hey,” the night shift fry cook says.  “Get a room you two.  This is a family place.”

“I gotta go,” Dean says, getting into his coat.  “I got an appointment BFE then I have to go out of town again.”  He pauses.  “You’re on cycle meds, right?”

You nod.  You have to be, in order to get the necessary time away from school to deal with your heats.

“When do your meds change?”

“Sunday.”  Switching from suppressant to contraceptive means a heat within 24 hours.

“Call me the second-- the second, you start getting the shakes.  You hear me?”

“Yes Alpha,” you say.

The frission of nerves must show on your face, because Dean smiles and gives you another kiss.  “Try not to worry babygirl,” he says softly.  “I’ll make it good.  I swear, I’ll make it good.  Take such good care of you.”

“Yes,” you moan, ever so softly.

---

A couple of days later you’re in the lab wading through a dig site inventory reconcile.  Behind the dust mask over your face you wiggle your nose and sniffle like some kind of half-assed rabbit.  Every damn time you mask up you get a runny nose.

It’s a relief when your phone purrs with a bass guitar D chord, the custom sound you picked out for Dean’s number.  A break would be lovely right now.  Going into the other room you unmask and blow your nose.

morning bbygrl

gimme a smile?

You snap a mirror selfie of yourself blowing your nose.

Stupid dust.

Dean replies with a laugh-to-tears face, and you respond with The Finger.

do u know this guy?

A second later your phone flashes a fuzzy pic of a dark-haired square-jawed man wearing a motorcycle jacket.

That’s Mr. Ketch.

PI that works for family law firm, Sturley and Kline.

I think hes tailing me

unless there’s another reason for him 2B in lansing

Maybe?  Uncle Raphael lives in Lansing.

Why are YOU in Lansing?

Dean texts back an embarrassed blushy face.

speeding tix

wasn’t paying attn

nailed doing 88 in 70

You reply with an eye roll.

ur fault

comin home 2U

You took a speeding ticket for me?

(Bambi eyes)

break speed limits

crash barricades

slay dragons

wash dishes

don’t do windows

mans gotta draw the line somewhere

---

Sunday is the one day a week you make it a point to leave completely open.  After Mass at St. Mary’s By The Freeway, you wrap yourself up in your overcoat and stroll across a couple parking lots to the Filling Station for a late breakfast.

“Hey-hey!”  The peace of your divinely mandated day of rest dies bloody as you spy Zachariah leaning against your car.  “There’s my favorite niece!”  He pulls you into a crushing hug and you almost gag when you get a noseful of stagnant water and wet dead leaves.

“Good morning Uncle Zachariah,” you say warmly even though your lips have gone numb.  Now that you know what to look for, Zachariah’s body language screams of overbearing Alpha.  Nothing at all like Dean.  Dean, dammit, where is he?  You need Alpha, like right fucking now please.  “Join me for breakfast?”

“Sure.  I could eat.  Meet me at the hotel?”

You tic your head at the Filling Station.  “I usually eat here after church.  Their omelets are delicious.”  And the owner knows your face.

Zachariah’s smile does that souring thing.  “Sure.  Good to get out of the comfort zone once in a while.”

Because apparently you’re a closet sadist you order Zachariah an Ash Special with extra peppers, just the sort of thing to give him heartburn the rest of the day.  Zachariah sits on the booth bench like it’s covered in something nasty and his nose wrinkles at the stench of cigarette smoke.

“So!” he says, as you attack your omelet and gulp coffee, “big day tomorrow.”

You pause.  How did he know your heat’s coming-- your omelet turns to ashes in your mouth.  The university requires Alphas and Omegas to give estimates of the days you have to be absent because of ruts and heats.  That’s why Zachariah insists on vetting your schedule even though he’s utterly indifferent as to your field of interest.  He’s been following your cycle for the past two years, at least.

Swallowing the bite in your mouth, you smile at him, coquettish little Omega.  “Yeah.  I’m a little nervous, but Dean was so nice at the party.”

“Oh boy,” Zachariah sighs.  “Sweetheart, there isn’t an easy way to tell you this so I’m just going to tell you.  Out of his ever-present briefcase Zachariah pulls a folder stamped with the Sturley and Kline logo.  Your blood runs cold when you see the name printed on the tab-- WINCHESTER, D.M.

“The escort service Dean works for wasn’t totally honest about his background,” Zachariah says as you flip open the folder.  “Because Dean’s bonded we assumed he had no criminal record.  He doesn’t because it was all sealed as part of a plea bargain-- the prosecution agreed to seal his juvenile record and drop an assault charge on the condition he enlist in the Army.”

This is shocking but not for the reasons Zachariah thinks.  Your flip past photocopies of newspaper columns you’ve already read.  Based on the biographical information provided by the escort service and the things Dean had told you . .   my God, in this exact spot, you’d gone and done a little research.  In the process you’d gathered enough background about the Winchesters of Lawrence, Kansas to confirm Dean’s story-- the fire, his mother’s death, his father’s eroding sanity, everything.  You know the “assault” charge was Dean breaking some high school senior’s jaw when he caught the bastard beating up his little brother.  You also knew his father lived in Kansas instead of Michigan because he was forbidden to leave the state as a condition of his suspended federal prison sentence.  John Winchester’s luck with evading the law had finally run out when he was caught with a cache of narcotics and a bunch of bomb fixings and assault weapons.  Homeland Security had even gone so far as to put John on a terrorist watch list, never mind he’d been living quietly in an assisted living community in Topeka since his sentencing.

“Wha-- what are you saying?  You think Dean might hurt me?” you ask in a tiny voice.

“I think where there’s smoke there’s fire.  He spent years living on mail fraud and credit card scams while his crazy father ran around screaming about the end of the world.  I know, you’re a tough kid but you’re still so young.  I don’t want to take the chance of him claiming you and acting like he can help himself to your money.”

“No, no he wouldn’t do that,” you say, mind racing to write the script a few lines ahead.  “Besides, except for pocket money I don’t have anything to my name except my car.”

“I know that but he might not,” Zachariah says, leaning forward into intimate space.  “Don’t worry baby.  When Chuck called the escort service they terminated the contract and offered us another Alpha.”

“No!” you snap, panicking.  “Uncle Zachariah, I can’t go to bed with a total stranger.  I can’t, I can’t, please don’t make me--"

“Hey hey hey, shh, that’s enough,” Zachariah soothes, pulling your head forward and kissing your forehead.  “If it makes you feel more comfortable we’ll wait until your next heat.”

You nod, sniffling back genuine tears.  “Thank you.”

Zachariah settles back into his seat.  He takes your hands at the wrists, encircling them like handcuffs.  “I know it hurts,” he says, “going through your heats alone.  Hopefully this one will be the last one.  The escort agency offered to keep this Alpha available for you if you want.”

Just what you always wanted, your very own professional mistress.  “And Dean?”

“You’ll never have to see him again.  Chuck has Mr. Ketch tailing him.  Last report says he’s driving towards St. Louis in that ridiculous land yacht of his.”

You nod, gulping.  “Thank you, Uncle Zachariah.”

“Just looking out for my favorite niece,” he says, with that who-loves-ya-babe smirk.  He gets up, leaving his food barely touched.  “Go home, get some rest.  Do you want some company?  I could call Rebecca to come stay with you--"

“No thank you Uncle Zachariah.”  You paste a weak smile on your face.  “I have a paper I need to finish.  I wouldn’t be very good company.”

Zachariah doesn’t have a reply to that, and after an uncomfortably close embrace he leaves.

Once he’s safely out of sight you plonk your head on the table and concentrate on keeping your food down.  You manage, but it’s close.

“You okay sugar?”  Ellen, the Filling Station’s owner and manager asks, coming over with a fresh pour of coffee.  “Something wrong with Ash’s cooking?  I’ll fire him right now if you want.”

“Not the food.  The food’s fine,” you say.

“Who was that guy?” Ellen asks as she tops you off.

“My uncle,” you say.  “And after the conversation I just had I may never eat again.”

---

You didn’t tell me you got fired.

The dots dance.

?!

they didnt fire me I quit

“What?” you ask it as you type it.

More dot polka.  This time it goes on for a full five minutes.  Finally, a text pops up.

do u hav time 4 vid chat?

You look around from your driver’s seat.  The parking lot is empty and deserted.  A wind sweeps at stray oak leaves with a sound like castanets clacking.  Autumn in Michigan can get pretty damn dreary, you think.  Right now you don’t mind, it matches your mood.

You call and a moment later Dean’s face fills the screen.  He looks tired, but his smile is still like the sun coming up. “Hey babygirl.”

“Hi Dean.”

“What’s wrong?  You look like a guest at your own autopsy.”

“Zachariah ambushed me on the way out of church this morning.  He told me the escort agency terminated your contract because you lied about having a criminal record.”

Dean’s smile dies.  “Babygirl I can explain.”

“Dean.”  You hold up your hand.  “Please don’t be mad at me.”  You explain about what you’d found on the Internet.

“You couldn’t have just asked me?” he says, and you can tell he’s fighting not to lose his temper.

“I did ask you,” you point out.  “When I found your Dad’s arrest record, I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”  You take a breath.  “Dean, I don’t care.  If you were the kind of Alpha Zachariah wants me to think you are, you wouldn’t care enough to be kind to me.

“I’m seducing you, you idiot.  I do it for a living!”

“Oh yeah, a cup of coffee and a fingerbang and we might as well be bonded.  Take me, I’m yours,” you drawl sarcastically.  “Besides, Zachariah probably made it a point to tell you every single last thing about me, up to and including the time I got caught shoplifting candy bars from the party store near my parents’ cottage in Indian River.”

“Three Musketeers?”

“I was a nougat fiend at the time.”  You replay your last sentence.  “I was kidding but he seriously told you about that?”

“Said your mom had you on a diet that summer.”

Thank God, it looks like you’ve pulled the fangs from Dean’s anger.  “What do you mean, you quit?”

Dean sighs.  “It’s why I’ve been having to go out of town so much lately.  The place Dad lives in isn’t cheap, but they can make sure he stays sober and keeps up with his meds.  If I can come up with enough money to buy into his building, Medicare and Social Security will cover the monthly facility fees.”  Dean pauses.  “I’ve been fighting not to, but Sam finally talked me into selling our grandma’s old house in Lebanon.  Between the sale and what I got saved, I have enough.  Just barely.”

“Why hang onto the house for so long?” you ask.

“I always planned on moving back to Kansas after Sam finished school,” Dean says.  “Sam kept telling me I could do that anyway and we needed the cash more than the memories.”

You nod.  Given what you know of Dean, it was the memories that mattered, not the asset.

“Babygirl,” Dean goes on, “I didn’t say anything because it didn’t matter.  I don’t want to be with you because of a job, and . . .” he trails off a moment, thinking.  “I went in to see Becky and told her I wanted to stop doing full service.  She said that wasn’t acceptable, shit got spoken, and I walked.”

"Zachariah said the agency had another Alpha lined up and ready to go," you say.  "I told him I wanted to wait until my next cycle."

Dean doesn't say anything.  His eyes have gone glacial, and you're suddenly glad he's not in the car with you.

"I bought us some time.  Didn't I?" you ask, hating a little how small your voice sounds.

"I'm not angry at you, babygirl," Dean says, reading your face perfectly.  "I want you to get what you need to hole up for a few days and go home.  Do you still have the folder the agency gave you with the contract in it?"

"Yeah, it's on my desk."

"Look for the sheet with the red border.  It's the form saying you officially refuse the agency's services.  The instructions will tell you to take a picture of the form with your phone after you sign it and send it straight to Becky.  When someone from the agency calls for the follow-up report, tell them you got cold feet when you found out about my record.  After that, Zachariah stops being a concerned uncle and starts being a fucking pervert.”

"What about you?  Zachariah told me he has Mr. Ketch following you to make sure you stay away from me."

"Don't worry about me honey, I've dealt with guys who’re a lot scarier than him.  Give me fifteen minutes and a good rush hour.  I’ll lose him on the Indiana turnpike."

You nod.  "Dean?  I'm scared," you admit.  "I never really noticed it before, but Zachariah's always freaked me out a little."

"That's your Omega instincts, babygirl.  They knew he was bad before you did."

"But what if he decides to make a move?  I mean, directly?  I already changed meds this morning, I can’t risk skipping a cycle.  Last time I tried I had to go to the hospital.”

"Seizures?"

"Yeah."

"Don't do that.  Get home, lock the doors.  I’ll be there when I can.  Just hang in there.  You hear me?”

“But what if he pays somebody to--”

“Another Alpha touches you,” Dean says, his tone so cold you shrink in your seat, “over my dead body.”

---

The next hours feel a little anticlimactic by comparison.  You bury yourself in Statistics homework, seeking refuge in the total focus and concentration required.  When the elevator buzzer goes off you about drop dead of a heart attack.  "Miss?" Harold the parking lot concierge calls over the speaker in the foyer.  "There's a lady here to see you.  Says she’s from the agency."

The representative from the agency Dean mentioned.  "Yeah.  Buzz her through."

A minute later the elevator opens and an attractive redheaded woman in a black overcoat and power boots strides in like she owns the world.  Dark green eyes light on you and she smiles.  "Good evening.  I'm Abbadon."

"Hi," you say, your throat suddenly dry.  A scent of cinnamon candy and grilling meat is crawling up your nose, sharp and savory.  "You're here from the agency, right?"

"Yes darling.  Here at your service," she says, in the least servile tone you've ever heard.  She tsks, looking at you.  "Such a shame, to hide such a beauty," she says.

She's an Alpha.  Your brain blanks.  Trans-designations -- female Alphas and male Omegas -- are rarer than red diamonds.  You've only met one in your whole life, an Omega in high school everybody called Mick.  Abbadon pulls a deep breath in through her nose.  "You smell like roses, right after a rainstorm," she says, closing her eyes and sighing in pleasure.

"I think there's been a misunderstanding," you say.  "I signed the cancellation sheet and sent it to Ms. Rosen a few hours ago.  Your services aren't required."

"From that pretty blush," Abbadon says, coming closer and fixing your eyes with hers like a hypnotizing snake, "my services are very much required.  Your heat is coming, isn't it sweet?"  She closes her eyes and takes another draught of the air.  "So sweet."

She strokes your jawline with a finger, turning her wrist up.  On reflex, you scent her skin.  Abbadon's candy and cooking meat scent is pleasant, but that's all.  The memory of Dean’s perfect smoky sweetness makes you want to turn your nose up like an offended cat

"Oh dear," Abbadon says.  "It's Winchester isn't it?  You've imprinted on him and it makes you think you'll never quicken for another Alpha again."  She shakes her head, her expression warm and sympathetic, except for her eyes.  Her eyes are cold as lumps of green glass.  "That's normal, but it isn't real.  We provide company,” and she takes your hand, stroking the soft skin across the back, “and pleasure.  Not mates.”

“Unless you’re here to take down my reasons for refusing your service,” you practically squeeze the words out in a stilted run-on of sounds, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“There’s no need to be frightened, Omega,” Abbadon says, still low and smoky.  She comes in closer, and you’re horrified to find yourself softening in the core.

“I’m straight,” you croak, “I don’t like girls.”

“When you’re wrapped around my knot, that won’t matter.  Designation always wins, Omega.” One hand, then the other, slides up each side of your neck.  You grab her wrists but she’s strong, you can’t pull her hands away.  Her palms press down against the pheromone glands in your neck and you gasp.  The glands are swelling with blood, filling the air with your enticing Omega scent.  The pressure sends a trickle of heat down through your body and your legs start to tremble.  “Designation always wins,” Abbadon repeats, coming closer and closer.

The elevator door buzzes and slides open.  You and Abbadon both jerk like you’ve been shot, and just like that whatever spell she’d been weaving breaks up and floats away.

Castiel comes in calling your name, and just behind him comes a tall, beefy man you don’t know.  “What’s going on?” he asks, looking at you with his striking blue eyes.

“It’s all right, I’m from the escort service, Rosen Entertainment?”  She smiles at Castiel.  “We were just introducing ourselves.”

“I thought she was here to do an exit interview,” you say, willing some strength back into your legs.  “I don’t want any servicing.”

Castiel, bless his bumblebee tie tack, deliberately shuffles a little to one side, putting himself fully between you and the woman Alpha.  “I believe there’s been a misunderstanding.  Consent has been withdrawn.”

Abbadon’s red lips part in a predatory grin.  “The Omega’s body is consenting.  It’s calling for an Alpha.”  She scents, and sighs.  “So sweet.  You smell it too, don’t you?”

Castiel’s shoulders go stiff.  “You’re in rut.”

She what?  You sniff the air, trying to sort out competing scents.  As you do, your knees do that wobbling thing and you sit on the coffee table.

“Of course.  The smell of an Alpha in rut relaxes timid Omegas.  They can’t help it.  You know that--"

“I do believe,” the beefy man says, his voice soft and round and Southern, “that you’ve been asked to leave.  However good this little girl smells she obviously don’t want what you’re sellin.”

He must be a Beta, you realize.  Otherwise he’d be reacting to the miasma of scent in the air.  He looks over at you and smiles.  “Hi there.  M’name’s Benjamin LaFitte.  Call me Benny.  I’m a friend of Dean’s.  He said to tell you he’s still got ‘em in his pocket.  Said you’d know what that meant.”

Groaning, you hide your red face in your hands.

“Figured it was sumpthin dirty.”  Cajun?  You think you can hear the French lurking under his sentences.

Abbadon’s not smiling any more.  “Sweetheart, this is ridiculous.  You need a knot.  You don't have be shy about your body and what it wants.”

“I said no,” you say.  You see the portfolio with the agency’s original contract and snatch it, flipping it open and showing the red-bordered page with your signature and date at the bottom.  “See?  Service refused.  I do not want this.”

“That only applies to Winchester’s service contract,” Abbadon says as though explaining something dead simple to a stubborn child.  “A new arrangement’s been made.”

“Nevertheless,” Castiel says.

All the softness disappears from Abbadon’s body language.  “That Omega is mine,” she snarls.  “Get out of the way.”

Benny comes up beside Abbadon.  “I do believe the lady's said no.”

Snarling, Abbadon throws herself in your direction.  Castiel takes the hit, immovable as granite.  Benny grabs her by the arms and bodily drags her to the couch across the room.  “Stop it with those heels,” he grumbles as Abbadon’s spiked heel rips his pant leg.  He puts her down and keeps her there as she tries another lunge.  “Uht-uh lady, we’re all gonna sit quiet and behave ourselves.  Understand me?”

“Are you all right?” Castiel asks you.

“Yeah.”  You look up at him as your brain starts trying to make the last ten minutes make sense.  “What are you doing here?  Either of you?”

“I have a monitoring program on the accounting software that tracks the Family’s cash accounts.  About an hour ago three large sums were wired out.  The destination accounts were Rosen Entertainments, Rebecca Rosen’s personal deposit account, and another deposit account under the name Abbadon Diablo.  I found the incident alarming enough to contact Balthazar, and he asked that I come to make sure you were all right.”

“I got a call from Dean this morning askin me to catch a plane to Detroit,” Benny takes his turn.  “Said he was havin trouble shaking a tail.”

“Why didn’t he just fly in himself?” Castiel asks.

“The Chief’s scared of planes.  Our last tour, the corpsman had to give him a shot to keep him from throwin a hissyfit all the way to Kabul.”  Benny shakes his head.  “Not afraid of heights but terrified of flying.  Who can figure?”

“You guys were in the service together?” you ask.

“Sure were cher.  First time I met him was when he dug me out from under a truck.”  He slaps one leg.  “Put a tourniquet on it.  Wasn’t for him, I’d’ve bled out or be walkin with a peg leg right now.”

You ask the small talk questions.  Benny answers-- he’s from Metarie, Louisiana, served five years before getting discharged for failing a drug screen, works as a bouncer in a bar in Baton Rouge owned by his wife Andrea.

“And you just hopped on a plane?” you ask.

“Sure did.”

“To come babysit a stranger a thousand miles away.”

“Course,” he shrugs, like it’s something people just do.

“Why?  You don’t know me, you don’t know what kind of a shitstorm you’re walking into here.”

Benny looks at you.  His eyes are blue too, paler than Castiel’s, clear and striking.  “I owe Dean one.  A big one.”

Something else occurs to you.  “How did you guys even get in?  Harold should’ve stopped you at the elevator.”

“Balthazar gave me a spare access card just before he left for Buenos Ares,” Castiel explains.

“I ran into bumblebee here trying to talk the doorman into buzzin him up,” Benny says.  “He’ll be all right but he’s gon’ have a sore jaw when he wakes up.”

---

The waves of fury Abbadon’s putting out strangles any further conversation.  You keep your seat on the coffee table, curling up more and more as the heat really starts sinking in.  Abbadon watches you like you’re the most fascinating thing ever, and every minute goes by her smile gets a little wider.  Her rutting scent is calling to you, and to your shame your body is calling back.

“You poor thing,” she says when you hiss through a cramp.

“Quiet,” Benny rumbles.  “Like an itty-bitty church mouse.”

Even Castiel can feel it.  Red slowly creeps up from under his collar and he starts to shift a little in his seat.  You hope that he and Hannah are still an item.  He needs someone to be nice to him, you think.  It’s not his fault he’s better with bees and butterflies than people.

Finally, finally, the elevator buzzer goes off and you bolt across the room.  Dean opens his arms just in time to catch you and pull you into a tight hug.  You take a deep breath from his neck.  Alpha’s scent, strong and sweet, blowing Abbadon out of your head like a wind blowing away smoke.  Every cell in your body trembles.  Slick starts to seep between your legs.

“Babygirl,” he breathes between soft kisses.  “What happened?  Are you okay?”

“I am now,” you say.

“Hola, Chief,” Benny says, shaking Dean’s hand and smiling.  “Commet ce vas?”

“Thanks a bunch Benny, I just spent ten minutes talking Harold out of calling the cops.”

“Is he okay?” you ask.

“Yeah, nothing hurt but his pride.  What happened?”  Dean takes a sniff at the air and freezes.  His eyes go dark and his upper lip lifts in a snarl.

“Well, if it isn’t the white trash Adonis,” Abbadon sneers.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean asks.  Gently, he pushes you behind him.

“Cleaning up your fuck-up, Winchester,” she says.  "And earning myself a big fat bonus in the process."

"Good evening," Castiel greets Dean, introducing himself and telling him what he'd told you about the money.  "I believe Zachariah specifically requested a female Alpha because he reasoned she would not admit a man."

"Correctly," you mumble.  "God I'm an idiot."

"Not your fault," Dean says, pulling you close to kiss your forehead.

As he pulls back you notice his cheekbone is swollen and there's a scrape going up into his hairline.  You touch it gently.  "What happened?  Why didn't you call me?  Why didn't you answer your phone?"

"Ketch," Dean says.  "Did you know he used to work for the SAS?  He got the drop on me just outside Kankakee.  Bastard broke my phone."

"Jesus Christ-- are you all right?" you ask, patting Dean over anxiously, looking for more injuries.

He smiles.  "It's just bruises, babygirl.  I'm fine."

"What'd you do with him?" Benny asks.

"Left him tied up in a Porta-Potty with the door bolted shut.  The construction crew'll find him tomorrow morning."  You bark out a laugh.  You've met Mr. Ketch once, and that was one time too many.

Dean holds a hand in front of Abbadon.  "Phone," he orders, snapping his fingers.  When she doesn't move, Benny rolls his eyes and digs out her pockets.

"Are you there yet?  The feeds are still dark," a woman's voice answers.

"Hi Becky," Dean says.  "Feel like explaining why you sent fucking Abbadon to service a virgin Omega who'd already red-sheeted us?"

"Dean!  Hi!" Rebecca Rosen, the proprietor and manager of Rosen Entertainments chirps.  "Now you gotta know I can't disclose the terms of a contact to third parties--"

"I'm not a third party!" you snap.  Now that Dean's here and it's really sinking in what almost happened, what might have happened if Castiel and Benny hadn't shown up, you're pissed.  "I put it in fucking writing I didn't want any of your Alphas!"

"Y-you did?" Ms. Rosen stutters.  "Oh my God-- I am so sorry, our e-mail servers are being exchanged, I never got--"

"Red sheets go to your phone.  Which is working," Dean says.  "You wanna try again?  Boss?"  When Rosen doesn't answer, Dean growls, "Answer me, or the next call I make is to Detective Mills in Lansing."

"You wouldn't," Ms. Rosen says.

"Wanna bet?  How much is Adler paying you?"

Castiel reads off some figures.  Some astronomical figures.  Figures far above and beyond anything you could imagine anyone spending on one thing, and for someone used to hanging around your idle rich cousins that’s saying something.  "Le je vous Salue Marie," Benny whispers.

"What did he want you to do to me?" you ask Abbadon, clenching your hands together to hide the shaking.

"Oh, stop acting like a frigid little prude," Abbadon sneers.  "All I was hired to do was help you through your heat.  Knot you like you're supposed to be knotted."

"He said maybe the problem was you liked girls but were too shy to tell him so," Ms. Rosen says.

"He told you to take her to the cottage, didn't he?" Dean says.  A wave of scent pushes out of him and you curl in on yourself.  Alpha is angry, Alpha is in a rage.  The pointed tips of claws sprout from the tiny ridges under his nail beds, and you can see his canid teeth have dropped and twisted into full fangs.  The skin over the pheromone glands in your neck twitch.  That's where Alpha will put his mark and claim you, and the thought makes slick pulse out of you.

"Mr. Winchester," Castiel says, putting a hand on his arm.  His own Alpha scent of honey and wildflowers has thickened, but bears none of that sense of threat.

"Don't get in my way Cas.  There's not a jury in the world that would convict me if I tore this bitch's fucking head off right now."

"That might be true Chief but is that really what the situation calls for right now?" Benny asks.  "The bitch ain't really the core problem here if I'm reading things right."

"No," Castiel agrees.  "Ms. Rosen, by accepting Zachariah's money you've made yourself and your business an accessory before the fact to an attempted rape.  I've examined the," you can hear him put it in quotation marks, "'red sheet' and found it in order.  A forensic examination of your phone will prove it was received and all instructions were followed."

"The red sheet only voided the contract between us and Mr. Adler that named Dean as the service provider--"

"You're not that stupid Becky," Dean cuts her off.  "Zachariah hired you to provide a rutting knothead, and paid extra to take her to a place where he could film it happening."

"What?!?" you cry.

"The cottage is a house Becky owns just outside Rockford.  It's wired for video and sound.  We take clients there that want to star in their very own pornos," Dean explains.

You grope out with one hand.  Benny, bless his silly golfer's cap, grabs the nearest wastepaper basket and holds it under you as you vomit.

"An associate of mine will be contacting you shortly.  I strongly suggest you call your lawyer and go on record that he will have your full cooperation," Castiel says, and if he wasn't acting the dominant Alpha before he is now.  "If you choose not to," his raspy voice deepens and he seems to grow a foot in front of you, "I swear by the Lord God I will break you."

Dean knows a dramatic cue when he hears it and disconnects.

“There.  That should buy us some time,” Castiel says.

“What d’you mean, jellybean?” Benny asks.

“He was bluffing,” you explain, wiping your mouth and grimacing at the aftertaste of bile.  “He’s an accountant, not a lawyer.  He doesn’t have associates.”

“Not exactly,” Castiel admits.  “Balthazar’s flight is scheduled to land at Ford International in twenty minutes.  I’m sure one of his associates can secure Ms. Rosen’s cooperation.”

Dean stares at Castiel for a long moment.  "You're all right, Cas," he says.

“Splendid,” Abbadon says.  She stands and plucks her phone out of Dean’s hand.  “As my contract has been cancelled I believe I’ll--”

“Aht-uh, I don’t think so,” Dean says, shoving her back down on the couch.  “You’re not stupid Abbs, you know Becky’s gonna throw you off the cliff to save her own ass the second the cops start talking deal.  I’d take some time and think seriously about your options.”

“This’s nice place to get some thinkin’ done,” Benny points out.  “Quiet.  There food in the kitchen cher?”  You nod.  Benny takes off his coat, and you gasp when you see a gun tucked into a shoulder holster.  He follows your eyeline and smiles.  “Your man’s prob’ly packin too.  I bet my boots that’s what he was doin in Kansas.”

“One of the things,” Dean says.  He reaches around his back and pulls out a chromed pistol.

“You brought a gun here?” you hiss.

“Let’s hope nobody’s stupid enough to make me use it,” Dean says, putting it back where he got it.

A wave of heat rolls through you, bringing hot blood under your skin and a fine film of fever sweat.  Your pussy trembles, clenches, throbs.  “Alpha,” you whine under your breath.

“Hey.”  Dean pulls you close and cuddles you against his chest.  “Just breathe, babygirl.”

“I think we can handle things here Chief,” Benny says.  “You need to get your girl somewhere safe.”

“Benny is right,” Castiel says.  His face is red but, God bless him, he’s composed otherwise.  “I’m not confident Zachariah will react rationally when he learns his scheme failed.”

“Yeah me neither.  Can you walk?” Dean asks you.  “I need you to go pack.  Just the essentials-- your toothbrush and enough clothes for a few days.  Make it quick.”

You nod and head for your room.  Picking out some jeans and T-shirts takes maybe five minutes.  Talking yourself out of taking every piece of frilly underwear you own is harder.  Packing up the work you need to get done before you go back to class-- the thought is almost surreal after everything that’s happened, what’s still happening.  Is normal even a thing any more?

You emerge from your room with a backpack, a stuffed duffel bag, and a hardshell suitcase on wheels.

“That’ll work,” Dean’s saying to Benny.  “Andrea’s threatening to carve my knot off again isn’t she?”

“Just cuz she loves you don’t mean she don’t want to kick your ass Dean,” Benny says.

“Tell her I love her too.”  Dean looks you over and takes your duffel from you.  He smiles into your frightened face.  “It’s okay, babygirl.  I’m just taking you somewhere safe.  I know a place.”

“Where?” Castiel asks.

Dean gives him a look.  “You don’t need to know.”

Castiel’s stance softens.  “You’re right.  Of course.”

“Your job,” Dean says, “is to do whatever you gotta do to nail her uncle.  My job is to keep my Omega safe.”

“What’s my job?” you ask.

Abbadon laughs.  “Get on your belly and take a big fat knot, Omega,” she says.  “Your body’s crying for it, I can tell.  You were born to be on your knees, sweet.”

“Shut your mouth,” Dean growls.

“Or what?” Abbadon taunts.  “She smells so delicious.  You can’t wait to get her alone and fuck her.  You never could own up to just being a shitty mutt sticking his knot--"

“That’s enough,” Benny cuts her off.  “Can I borrow your tie, Mr. Castiel?”

Castiel pulls off his tie and holds Abbadon by the arms as Benny gags her with it.

“Benny, I--” Dean starts.

“Go on now.  We can handle things here,” Benny says.  He smiles at you.  “Sure was a pleasure to meet you, miss.  Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing now.  Me’n the bumblebee got it covered.”

---

You sit in the shotgun seat of Dean’s Chevy, trembling as your fever intensifies.  You have no real idea where you are.  Absent a stop at a Thrifty Acres to get some groceries, Dean’s been driving on side roads and two-lane blacktop with flat-footed confidence, constantly checking his mirrors and sometimes telling you to duck down out of sight.  You’re trying to keep yourself still, not break his concentration.  It’s hard.  Slick is oozing from you in a steady trickle, so much you can feel it’s soaked through your jeans.  Dean’s reacting to it, you can tell.  He’s all but squirming in his seat.  His scent’s turning darker, more intense.  You keep thinking of how it felt, when Dean made you come just by touching you through your panties, when you were a good girl for him.  You can feel your heartbeat between your legs, making everything swollen and sensitive and ready for Alpha, for Dean--

Finally, after a long crawl down a rutted track through some second-growth tangles of tamarack plants and tree saplings, you spy the dark outline of a house.  Dean pulls the car next to it and kills the engine.  “Here we are,” he says into the silence.

“Where?” you ask.

“Friend of my Uncle Bobby owned this place,” he says.  “It’s got propane and a generator for the lights and a well and septic for water.  We can hole up here until everything blows over.”  He reaches past you and punches open the glove compartment.  “I’m gonna go in first and make sure it’s empty.  You know how to use a gun?”  At your headshake, he pulls out a revolver.  “Pull the hammer back,” he demonstrates, “and squeeze.  I’ll be right back.”

After five minutes that feel like fifty fucking years, you hear a clack and a chug as a machine starts up.  A dim yellow light flicks on inside the cabin.  Dean comes back out, tucking his gun into the small of his back.  “We’re clear,” he confirms and you sigh in relief, putting down the revolver.  “Help me with the bags.”

Inside, the cabin is a one-room shack with a tiny part sectioned off in what you assume is the bathroom.  The walls are knotty pine paneling and you can smell decades of old cigarette smoke.  A woodstove slouches in one corner and there’s a galley kitchen against one wall.  The cabin’s only furnishings are a bed, a saggy couch, and a little café table with a couple of chairs.  Dean plugs something in and the refrigerator starts to hum.  “Put the groceries away.  I’ll get the rest of our things.”

A cramp seizes you as you finish putting the food away and you grind your teeth, bracing yourself on the counter.  By now, at home, you’d be in bed full of muscle relaxants and painkillers, riding your heat out like a little boat in a choppy sea.  “Keep it together bitch,” you mutter to yourself, straightening.  Doing your absolute best to ignore the disgusting sensation of slick-saturated fabric between your legs.

Dean comes in and slings his duffel bag onto the couch.  "The only other people who know about this place," he says, brushing by you without looking at you, turning on the kitchen faucet and nodding at the clear stream of water that results, "are my brother and Bobby.  We should be safe here for at least a few days."

"That's good," you say.  What's happening here?  Why isn't he touching you?  Your body is sobbing for him, you can feel it.  Another cramp twists your insides and you suck in a breath.  Oh, that's bad-- the room is filling with scent, yours and Dean's, mixing together into something that's squeezing your chest in a steel fist.

Dean turns around and braces himself against the kitchen counter.  His eyes dart to the corner, where the bed waits, neatly made with a gray blanket.  Your eyes dart below his belt and yes, even through his jeans you can see he's hard.  He sighs, "God, babygirl, I am so sorry."

"What?" you ask, totally dumbfounded.

"This wasn't what I had planned at all," he says.  "You deserve so much better than a dirty bachelor shack in the middle of nowhere for your first time--"

"Jesus Christ Dean, you think I give a shit about a little dust and mouse turds?" you cut him off.  "Just how fucking shallow do you think I am?"  You curl your arms around yourself, shaking. 

"I don't," Dean says.  "I don't think that at all.  God, you're gorgeous and you're smart and you smell so fucking sweet."  He gulps.  "I've never-- you won't believe me, but nobody's ever gotten under my skin like this before.  What the fuck are you even doing with a bum like me?"

"I thought," you gulp, "I thought you wanted to take care of me."

Dean's eyes darken and a fine tremor makes his body quiver.  Slowly, he pushes himself upright.  One step, two steps, and he's looming over you.  He reaches out and slides his hand up your jawline, turning your head up and your eyes to his.  This is happening, this is really happening, and you feel the knowledge like a punch straight between your legs.  A tiny sound peeps out of you.

That must've been Dean's cue.  His mouth slants over yours.  The relief that sweeps over you makes you melt against him, clinging to keep your balance.  Dean's hands are everywhere, strong and confident, pressing you against him.  You moan when you feel him, hard and seeking through both your jeans.

"Gonna take care of you," Dean growls against your mouth.  He touches your leg, feels the heavy cotton damp with your slick.  "Your pussy's hungry for me, isn't it babygirl?  I've been smelling it all fucking night.  Got me hard soon as I got out of that elevator."

"Really?" you pant.

Dean nods.  His hand curves around your shoulder and slides down.  Your entire body shakes as his hand fits itself to your breast, learning the weight and the curve.  His thumb finds your nipple and swishes back and forth over it, making it painfully hard inside your bra.  Your head drops back and he kisses down your neck.  More slick runs out of your pussy, hot and thick and slippery.

"Can I take this off?" Dean asks, pulling your shirt out from where it's tucked into your jeans.  He kisses across your collarbones as you moan out a yes, raising your arms as he pulls if off over your head.  Bare hands on your waist, feeling him skin-to-skin, your mind reels.

You're at the bed, Dean half-dragging you because your legs have quit working.  The two of you topple over in a great squeak of stiff bedsprings and a puff of dust.  You giggle at Dean's cuss, taking the opportunity to put some kisses of your own under his jaw, down his neck.  His heart's hammering fast as yours, and the texture of his skin against your lips is a mystery you could spend the rest of your life exploring.

Groaning as you press down against him-- against his cock, you correct yourself, his Alpha cock, Dean sits up and shrugs out of his jacket and plaid button-down, shoving them to land on the floor somewhere.  "Take my clothes off," he tells you as he pulls you to straddle his lap.  You pull his T-shirt up and off.  You undo his belt and the top button of his jeans.  Dean lets out a sigh of relief as his trapped erection springs free, stretching out his underwear.  Your bra clasp pops open with a twist of his fingers and you sling it off as your tits swing free.  "Beautiful," he moans, tipping you back and covering your chest with kisses.

"Dean," you whine as he pulls a nipple into his mouth and sucks.  The sensation goes straight to your pussy, which for God's sake is starting to burn.

"Told you," he says, his mouth full of your nipple and his fingers gently pulling the other one, "I needed time to take care of you.  Nice," he says, suckling you long and strong and making you cry out, "and slow.  Make you howl for me, babygirl.  Unzip your pants for me."

You do as you're told like a good girl, and Dean rewards you by shoving his hand down your panties.  He groans when he finds a puddle of slick.  Your cunt clenches, more slick runs over his fingers.  It was good when it was just pressure through your panties; skin to flesh, a rough palm rubbing over your clit and fingers gently threading through your soft inner lips, and you're almost weeping with need.

"Feel that?" Dean asks.  "Your pussy's trying to lock around my hand, babygirl.  You're so slick, I'm gonna just slide right in, right all the way in.  Get in you so fucking deep, you'll feel me for days."

"Please Alpha," you beg, arching to rub yourself over his hand.

"Uht-uh," he grunts.  The fingers that've been stroking you right where you open slip through and slide inside, finding tight and soft.  They move, wiggling deeper, touching secret places you've never even touched yourself.  "Gonna feel so good to make you come on my cock," he says, "feel your pussy lock my knot up nice and tight."  His other hand takes yours and puts it over his tented underwear.  Your palm curves around him and Dean moans.  "That's it, babygirl.  Feel how fucking hard I am?"

"Yes Alpha."  Your hand reaches further into his open jeans and you cup his knot in your hand, feel it pulsing and swelling a little with each throb.

Gently, you squeeze and Dean groans your name.  "Just like that babygirl.  Not too hard-- wait, stop a second."

"No, please, I need you, I need your knot--"

Dean pulls your hand out of his pants and his hand out from between your legs.  His fingers are running with your slick.  Like he's got a palmful of syrup, Dean licks his hand clean.  He presses a finger to your lips and you take a timid lick.  It's . . .  weird, salty and weird.  Not bad, but weird.

"So good.  Later," Dean says, kissing more of your taste into your mouth, "I'm gonna put you up on that table, and spread you out, and eat you out until you scream.  I promise.  Lay back."

You arch to lay back down Dean's legs.  A laugh coughs out of you as he fusses with your jeans, helping you straighten and raise your legs high so he can pull them off.  Your panties go with them, leaving you bare to Alpha's eyes.  Under his burning gaze, you suddenly want to curl up and hide.  You're barely rounded anywhere, skinny rather than slender, your bush spraying everywhere because it's never occurred to you that it might need trimming, much less shaving.  Not like the lushly curved, voluptuous, beautiful Omegas he's probably popped his knot into on a regular basis.

"Hey hey hey," Dean says as you cover your tits with one arm and your pussy with the other hand.  "Don't do that."

"I just--" you snap your hand back over yourself as Dean tries to pull it away from your bush, "look at me."

"I am," Dean says.  "Be a good girl for me.  Let me see you.  Come on.  Babygirl," he says, settling a hand low on your belly, rubbing down and making you shudder as you feel it deep inside your core, right at the source of all the burning, "you will never have to worry about disappointing me.  Not ever.  You hear me?"  He leans over you, filling your vision with his face, with his eyes.

You seize his face and pull him down for a kiss.    How easy it is, to wrap your legs around him.  Dean unconsciously grinds against you.  Frustrated little grunts pop from him as his clothes keep him from sinking into you.  The glands in your neck start to ache, as your body puts out more and more scent.  Alpha is here, right here, he’s rutting, he’s in rut, you need him, now, oh God now, before your body catches fire and burns away.

Grunting, growling, Dean pins your torso flat to the creaky mattress.  “Let me go Omega, just for a second.  Gotta get my pants off.  Hold still, just for a second.”

You let your legs relax.  Dean pushes himself up off you and reaches down under his waistband to free his trapped cock.  Your first thought, as you get your first look at a cock, an Alpha cock, standing up from Dean’s groin like an iron bar and equipped with a pulsing mass of knot at the base, is disbelief.  Dean’s fingers are long and thick and felt huge inside you.  His cock is . . . to your inexperienced eyes it looks like a fucking baseball bat.

Dean busts out with a laugh and you flush, mortified.  “I said that out loud didn’t I?”

“Just call me Miggy Cabrerra,” Dean teases, shoving his jeans down and peeling them off.  You shift to roll over and Present properly.  Dean stops you with a hand on your hip.  “No babygirl.  I need to watch your face.”  You curl yourself upwards a bit to see what he’s doing-- putting his hand under your pussy and cupping his palm.  The answer comes when he takes the slick that’s gathered and spreads it down his cock.  The sight makes your cunt throb so hard it hurts.  You drag a hand through your pussy and Dean jumps as you smear your slick down his shaft.  His cock is a length of warm stone in your hand, the skin soft and fine, the softest skin you’ve ever touched.  Dean shudders as you gather more slick and use both hands on him.  “Good girl,” he says through a strangled throat, “getting me so fucking hard for you.  Lay back.”  He puts his hands on your thighs and pushes them as far apart as they’ll go.  “God, perfect, spread yourself out nice and wide for me.  Sit up a little.”  A pillow slides under your back.  “Now what did I say about reading minds, babygirl?”

It takes you a second.  “That you can’t.”

“Yahtzee.  If I do something that hurts or that you don’t like, you have to tell me.  I promise, I will not be mad no matter how far gone we are.  Tell me to stop and I will.  Understand me?”

“Yes Alpha,” you say.

“Good girl.  Being such a good girl for me,” Dean says, the words making you shudder.  He smiles and tips your face up to look him on the eye.  “You like being my good girl don’t you?”

You bite your lip and nod.

“Hold still.  Keep being good for me, hold still.”  You gasp as his fat, wet cockhead slides across your pounding clit.  It slips down, a blunt mass seeking where your body unfolds.  Dean says your name and points to his eyes.  “Watch me.  Right here.”

You fight to keep your head up and your eyes open, as Dean’s cock lodges between the innermost of your pussy lips.  Between, and through.  You pull a breath in through lungs that won’t inflate.  He’s . . . big, thick, massive, heavy-- your brain runs out of adjectives.  Your Omega instincts howl in completion.

Dean moans as you clamp down on him.  “Oh my God.  So fucking tight.”  He holds himself still, puts a hand on your belly to hold you still.  “You gotta relax, babygirl, relax, let me in, can you do that for me?  Come on, you can do it.  Let me make you feel good--” and your pussy unclenches and Dean slides straight in, all the way to the knot.

Oh.

So this is what all the fuss is about, is your first thought.  Alpha’s cock filling you to the limit and his knot pressing against where your pussy will lock him in place.  It . . . you ache, down there, where the nerves are going crazy processing new sensory input.  Dean’s weight lays down against your belly.  For a moment you can’t breathe and you squirm under him in a panic.  Then he shifts and puts his forearms on either side of you, bracing himself and taking his weight off you.  Never breaking eye contact, Dean’s hips roll.  Sliding, friction, deep inside where you’re most tender--

Dean sighs, “Squeezing me so tight, Omega.  Tightest little pussy.  How does it feel, feeling me deep like this?”

“Full,” is the only word that comes to mind.  “Feel so full.”

Dean smiles, brilliant but bracketed with tension.  You breathe in his scent and it’s heavy and dark.  You slide your knees up and your legs fall open wider.  Dean shifts back, slipping away and he thrusts, filling you back up full and no, this is what all the fuss is about, this, this.

--mate knot breed mate knot breed mate mate MATE--

Groaning, Dean keeps moving inside you.  Hot and alive.  You’ve used knotting toys before, all Omegas do.  Dean feels nothing like that.  “C-c-can I go a little faster?  Babygirl you feel so fucking good on my cock.”

You nod, gulping.  Your eyes drift closed, going inside yourself, concentrating on the ache and the bliss deep within.

"Eyes open babygirl."

Your eyes fly open and you moan.  Balancing himself on one arm, Dean brings his free hand to your face.  "Suck on my fingers.  Get 'em nice and wet for me.  Good girl," he says as you lick down each of his first two fingers, take them both in your mouth and suck them.  "You're gonna come on my cock, babygirl," he tells you.  "Squeeze my knot so fucking tight.  Lock me right the fuck up."

You cry out as his wet fingers find your clit, arching underneath him.  Your bodies find a beat and you wind your arms and legs around Dean, kissing his lips, his face, his throat.  You suck a bruise at a warm spot in his throat and Dean cries out your name.  Your fangs drop and you only realize at the last second what you're about to do and duck your head, taking your mouth away from where Dean's mating gland throbs.

Dean's movements are getting shorter, the thrusting harder.  You meet him as best you can, pulling him to you, wanting him to melt into your skin, become part of you.  You cry his name as the pleasure just rises, and rises, and critical mass oh God--

You go rigid as you come, harder than you ever have in your life, your pussy squeezing around Dean and the muscles along the lips spasming.  Dean cries out as his knot pops free of them, once, twice.  His hips stutter and you feel him . . . inside you, painting your insides with his seed.  His knot swells and your pussy clamps down, locking him in place as he comes.  The Omega within you screams in completion.  Dean's cock shifts and his knot pulls as his orgasm wrings him dry, the sensation making you whimper through another mini-orgasm as your body squeezes to keep him in place.

You lose a few minutes.  When you come back to yourself, Dean's laying full on top of you.  His hips stutter and jerk every few seconds, his cock twitching as he leaves little dribbles of seed.  Weakly, he wraps an arm around you and rolls you both over, arranging you to lay draped overtop him.  He strokes down your back, cards his fingers through your hair, brushes away tears that've leaked from your eyes.  You don't remember starting to cry.  His chest heaves under your ear and his heart is beating like it's about to burst.

"Dean--"

"Shh," Dean says, and you shush up.  You kiss what skin you can reach, just to feel his skin against your face.  It's so nice, not like what you'd imagined.  Little aftershocks make your cunt flex around Dean, pulling little helpless noises out of him.  Content, that's what you are, the burning under your skin mellowed to a pleasant heat.  You want more.  Later.  Now is for laying in Alpha's arms.

---

continued in part b

[silver-stake-through-the-heart]

So… Since I saw once again "no one ever told Cas they loved him", I wondered if Sam and Dean heard the words "I love you" so often. I searched every "I love you" of Supernatural. Then noted who told it, to whom, and in which situations.

(Without much surprise, "I love you" mainly occurs for other people. Here will be only listed Sam's and Dean's, to make a Team Free Will post.)

Sam, hearing I love you

Jess: So come home soon, okay? I love you. (1x01)

Jess, on a note "Missed you! Love you!" (1x01)

Mary: I love you. (12x03)

Jack: I love you. I love all of you. (13x23)

Dean: I love you so much. My baby brother. (15x20)

Sam, saying I love you

Sam: I think, um …. I think Dad would have wanted you to have these. I love you, Mom. (1x09)

Sam: I love you, Jess. (5x03)

Sam, on the phone, to Mary: Yeah. Love you, too. (12x15)

I love you for both Winchester brothers

Bobby: I love you like my own. I do. But sometimes– (6x04)

Crazy!Cas: If someone was going to free the Word from the vault of the earth, it would end up being you two. Oh, I love you guys. (7x21)

Mary, to Sam: I love you. (Then looking at Dean) I love you both. (12x03)

Texts from Mary: Hey Dean. Phone died. Didn't have a charger. Things are good. I'll always be mom. Tell Sam I love you boys. (12x04)

Mary, before pulling the trigger: I love you. (12x09)

Mary: I just… I need to finish this. I miss you boys. I love you. (12x20)

Mary: I love you. (12x23)

John: I love you both so much. (14x13)

Kevin: I love you guys. (15x02)

Dean, saying I love you

Dean: It’s okay, Mom. Dad still loves you. I love you, too. I’ll never leave you.

Mary: You are my little angel. How 'bout some pie? Okay. (5x16)

Mary: Honey. Why are you up?

Dean: Look. I’m-I’m sorry. I love you but you’re not real and we don’t have time— (5x16)

Dean to Mary: I hate you. And I love you. (12x22)

John: I love you both so much.

Dean: I love you, too. (14x13)

Dean: I love you so much. My baby brother. (15x20)

Dean, hearing I love you

There are different categories.

False realities:

Mary: Get some rest. I love you.

Dean: Me too. (2x20)

Carmen We can have a future together. Have our own family. I love you, Dean. Please. (2x20)

Lisa: Dean. I love you. (3x10)

2. Doubtful sincerity under those circumstances:

Sam, stunned: It's okay…because you're my brother…and I still love ya. (5x11)

Mary, talking to the phone because Ketch told her to: Wow. I, uh… I'm actually still sort of resting up after that whole Ramiel thing. But if you need me… You sure? Okay, rain check. Hey, I love you. (12x13)

3. The little sister he never wanted *liar*

Charlie: I love you.

Dean: I know. (8x20)

4. CAS

Castiel: Thank you. Knowing you, it… it’s been the best part of my life. And the things that… the things we’ve shared together, they have changed me. You’re my family. I love you. I love all of you. (12x12)

Castiel: I love you. (15x18)

[adidegmez]

spn s15 spoilers

s15 ep1(back and to the future)

one last time, the road so far. the demon is funny. i love big brother dean. their lat scene was awesome. we got work to do, this Show is going to kill me. this is the last season. their story will end. probably with a sad ending. i dont want to say goodbye.

s15 ep2(raising hell)

ketch! hi ketch. he knows how to make an enterance. rowena and ketch? rowena cared about jack. amara, i didnt think we would see her. kevin, ive missed you. where is jack, he was in the empty what is he doing now? we started saying goodbyes with kevin. and this will go on. i hate goodbyes.

s15 ep3(the rupture)

i miss crowley. ketch died. They're slowly removing everyone from the story. We're nearing the end. and now rowena. rowena is complicated, i love her. i thought rowena would want sam to kill her so that she could e the queen of hell or something like that. maybe she can return as queen of ell that would e nice. adam is still in the cage. dean, why are you so mad at cas? cant you forgive him? i wouldnt want their story to and like this but dean sam and cas theyre alive. there are 17 eps left. things will go bad. i hope they can get a happy ending, i hope they will all live but i dont think they will.

s15 ep4(atomic monsters)

i thought i saw benny. we got him and lost him in a minute. dean is gorgeous(i had to say it, he is always gorgeous). i love seeing deans smile, sam and cas too but dean is different, he is my favorite. becky, wow, she has a family? i would love to see team free will just doing laundry and talking with eachother without worrying about monsters. im happy for becky. becky youre gonna ruin winchesters life. poor boy it wasnt his fault but if he cant control it he has to die. if only there could be another way. Did Jensen sing the song? If anyone knows the name of the song, can you tell me? dean is hopeful we need that but Chuck is not gone. and he is going to ruin things. he will make the winchesters suffer, just because he enjoys it and doesnt like the winchesters anymore. and thats why i hate him

s15 ep5(proverbs 17:3)

why is sam having those dreams? is Chuck messing with his head? everyone is confused about deans pictures but he looks the same maybe a little bit older but same look. he even has the same hair. sam is the one WHO changed he look very different especially his hair. that doesnt make any sense everyone is suprised at deans not sams? lilith?!! only thing thet can kill the god (except jack i think) is gone. nice there is a link they can use that link. you were never free dean. i wish amara ould help them. maybe se will help them. but they need jack.

s15 ep6(golden time)

now eileen. Chuck is trying to break the winchesters. Dean doesn't seem to care because he's tired of playing Chuck's games and there doesn't seem to be any way they can beat Chuck right now. If they can find a way, Dean will go back to his old self. and they will beat Chuck. together, team free will (2.0 maybe jack will come too). what happened to banes twins. will we see them again? eileen is okay. well at least we have one good thing. Chuck is messing with cas now.

s15 ep7(last call)

dean is amazing, jensen is amazing. i love when he sings. he was happy at that bar, i love seeing him happy. it was good to see him happy in this last season, i hope we can see them happy more. sam cant die. they can beat Chuck but they still need help(maybe jack can help them)

s15 ep8(our father, who aren't in heaven)

they finally remembered adam. i love donatello but i miss kevin. hello rowena! i miss crowley, im glad she is the one whos in charge. i love rowena. adam is out of the cage. eileen and sam could be together. Chuck will kill eileen, right? Dean, you shouldn't still be mad at Cas, we're getting close to the end and you two shouldn't stay on bad terms anymore. i want jack back, when is he coming? okay, i hate Chuck. i used to love him when he was just a prophet but as god no i dont like him. he just watched all of them suffer and enjoyed it. and he is stil hurting them. he is a monster. i like this Michael. thanks to cage and adam he is better now. adam is in a better situation than the others. purgatory, i hope we can at least see benny.

s15 ep9(the trap)

of course chuck was behind all of this. benny is dead. when someone dies in purgatory where would they go? i thought they would born again in purgatory. dean finally forgave cas. No, this ending definitely wouldn't happen. Even if Sam and Dean had turned into monsters, they wouldn't have become monsters. They wouldn't have fought Bobby and Jody. They would have let them kill themselves. Cas is getting the mark. I hope this doesn't end badly like Dean's. jack!!! yes. why is billie doing this? idc Shell bring jack back. and he'll beat god. how can the light be bad? if hes bad, how can there be balance?

s15 ep10(the heroes' journey)

do they have bad luck or something? its Chuck isnt it? i heard some people say, garth didnt named his kid dean because he knew sam would name his kid dean and this makes sense to me. at least nothing bad happened to garth and his family. yeah they cant be normal. it was funny to see them like that but this isnt WHO they are.

s15 ep11(the gamblers)

hi jack! you finally came. my heroes. they are going to save the World. with cas and jack.

s15 ep12(galaxy brain)

I had forgotten about Kaia. Jack now has powers but he won't be able to use them. Kaia will be a problem. i hate Chuck. he is bored so he is destroying worlds. he needs to go. i loved old dean more.

s15 ep13(destiny's child)

when i watched about scoobynatural, i thought team would travel through different universes. for at least one season we couldve just watch them travel have fun save people but no they cant have fun more than one episode. if someone would help jack he can rule instead of Chuck. jack doesnt have a soul but he is good. i wish he had his soul. i loved meg. jack got his soul back, finally.

s15 ep14(last holiday)

i love deans reaction. cant they live like this? they are happy. of course they cant, Chuck wouldnt let that happen. Jack began to speak his father's language:) . dean, the birthday cake was nice. i love them.

s15 ep15(gimme shelter)

dean lied again.first to other kaia now amara. i hope he can keep his promise so he wouldnt be lying. jack will sacrifice himself. hopefully cas will find a way.

s15 ep16(drag me away (from you))

i hate seeing winchesters fight, especially when it's so close to the end. I hope they can be back to normal before this is all over.

s15 ep17(unity)

jack's not family? dean how could you say that he is your kid, he is a winchester. i love amara. i hope jack and amara can spend time with eachother. i hate Chuck. he manipulates everyone. it was Chuck all along. if only dean didnt lie to amara. she was nice she was trying to help but now she is dead. now jack is dying again.

s15 ep18(despair)

i want to say jack cant die but i cant be sure of anything. the story is ending in 3 episodes. billie didnt change she always wanted this. okay jack is alive nice. since this is the ep i can say it. cas will die in this ep and i know it. i knew it for a while i hoped this day would never come but here we are. this will be the day i learn this storys ending. i hate billie too. billie left her toy. does that mean theyll reap god and hell die like that and billie read it so she left the weapon to kill Chuck. i love Charlie. she was happy. eileen is gone. i thought maybe she and sam could be together. i love donna. i love garth. i love jody and the girls. i love bobby. Charlie bobby donna i thought they were safe, theyre gone now. i know how this will end cas will summon empty it will kill death and cas. i hope this wont happen but it will. cas will die. their story will end. cas is gone. and he didnt day goodbye to sam and jack. he saved dean. cas is gone.

s15 ep19(inherit the earth)

what is happening to jack? how can they beat God? how can they win? i hate Chuck. he killed miracle. Michael! adam is gone too. i didnt think we would see Michael again. and i didnt think i would be happy to see him but i am. there may be hope yet. maybe they can do something together. i cant deans reaction to lucifer was funny but i cant laugh. he thought cas was alive he thought he came bak and it wasnt cas he saw lucifer. i never thought we would see lucifer. i love lucifer when he is not serious or when he isnt trying to end the World. so he is good for now. i hate lucifer again. yes! Michael killed lucifer, i cant believe it. Michael betrayed them. i liked him. i cant trust anyone but team free will 2.0. i hate Chuck. i would take that ending, i would. they won but hey lost everything but they won and theyre together except cas. there is still one ep left. and evertones back. this is not the perfect ending because cas is not here but its a good ending. if only it was the end. because they are alive. they live. this felt right but why is there another episode. i hope we just see them grow old and live their lives but we wont. i know we wont. i just wish we could. i dont want to watch next ep. i know that ep broke everyone. i know how it ends. but why this should have been the ending. this felt right it wasnt complete but it felt right. this couldve been the ending why make us suffer more? of course i dont want it to end but if the story ending i would want it to be like this. this i want to say perfect but its not cas is gone but it was okay. im not ready to watch the next ep. but here we go one last ep. their story is ending here.

s15 ep20(carry on)

what happened to carry on? why didnt it play. i wanted just one thing i hope it at least plays in the end. im okay with just wathing them live their life without a big bad guy or something. why? why? why? it was always sam and dean, always. why end it like that? they were happy they were together they were both alive. i dont want to say it but dean is gone. sam is alone. bobby, hi! cas is alive?! that what they deserved as heaven. but dean shouldve had more time with sam. but im not going to complain they all can be together again. tahnks to jack and cas. yes this ending break me but it was beautiful. in the end they are happy and they are together forever. i just wish we couldve seen at least cas and jack.

this story was beautiful 2 brothers together with the help of their frinds and family they saved the World. and they got the ending they deserved it was meant to be like this dean would die and sam would live for everyone WHO died. spn writers i think they gave us a gift with jack, they made heaven a good place they made heaven what it was meant to be. and thanks to them and jack winchesters and everyone we cared about is happy. anyway im glad i witnessed their story for 15 seasons i laughed and cried with them. they mean so much to me all of them.

i dont want to say goodbye so this is a see you later because ill be seeing them. ill always remember them. i love all of them. i love dean sam cas jack bobby mary john kevin Charlie jody donna crowley rowena and the others WHO helped winchesters WHO loved winchesters.

im really happy im a part of this fandom. ill never leave here. im looking forward to see spn stuff. so

see you later

[eriexplosion]

Time for our breather episode, Common Ground

The scenery in this show is so damned good, the way I am instantly in love with Raxus and the gold tones.

Honestly this episode fits much better given what we see in Spoils of War/Ruins of War, emphasizing the humanity of the people in every system. TCW triedddd to do this with the 'heroes on both sides' but they really just kind of said it and then showed us like one lady that didn't suck in the entire show. She died immediately. So I appreciate these episodes.

Also I just love the Senator's droid she's hilarious to me.

Avi Singh is voiced by Alexander Siddig and it made me trust him immediately like all those people in the crowd cheering that is me hearing Julian Bashir's voice come out of this little animated man.

HOW can the scene of them just walking contain so many of my favorite character moments? Omega feeding Wrecker a piece of Mantell Mix, Tech steadying Omega when Hunter helps her off Wrecker's shoulder to make sure she doesn't fall over, her smiling up at him, this expression of UTTER DUBIOUSNESS and SUSPICIOUS SNIFFING from Echo

I headcanon that Echo has hella digestive problems after a large portion of them was replaced by technology so every food must pass this sniff test and 90% of them do NOT but especially not whatever sugary concoction goes on this space popcorn.

I do NOT get why people thought for so long that we don't see Tech caring for Omega because every time she stumbles Tech is right there to steady her, he takes such good care of Omega oh my god. Sometimes love is making sure your baby sister never ever falls over!

Which he also does when she gets on a chair and he is right there like JUST IN CASE.

Adolescents often exhibit lack of balance as they grow best to be within two inches of her at all times in case she wobbles.

GRANDMA CRIMES WILL BABYSIT DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT. DON'T TRUST HER BUT SHE'LL TOTALLY DO IT.

I do think it's very funny that the one time Hunter successfully keeps her out of a mission by leaving her on another planet, she immediately becomes central to a gambling ring.

I want a count of how many times Echo complained about this job while Tech is just YOU KNOW WHAT'S GREAT, EARNING MONEY TO EAT WITHOUT PUTTING IT ON CID'S TAB. And Wrecker is just excited to mark off a new system on his Visited Locations list.

"Now are you convinced?" "No >:[" Echo has very valid reasons to not be thrilled about this job but unfortunately separatist doesn't mean much anymore and also they're so cute when they're Grumby.

When you clean SO sadly that Cid comes over like STOP BEING A MOPE. Omega's really leaning into her early teens attitude with SOR-RY.

ANGY.

Bolo and Ketch's DISAPPOINTED HEAD SHAKING is so fucking funny. You UPSET the CHILD Cid. Go fix it. Like they weren't taking bets on her fucking up her bow training earlier.

I know Hunter's mentioning Omega is supposed to be Feelsy a little but I do admit it misses a little bit because it's not like she's missing or anything. I do wish they had done something like this with Crosshair early on, like in Rampage when he orders Echo to be eyes in the sky, switch it to him saying Crosshair's name instead and then correcting.

THIS ANTIQUE VASE IS PRICELESS, BE CAREFUL :C I love herrrrrr

You know the senator is in real trouble because they took his hat.

AND BEHOLD! I HAVE SAVED YOUR MOST PRIZED VASE :D

Quite a bit of time is spent on Grand Theft Walker in this episode. Also I'm glad they're using stun bolts but oh boy is it concerning to stun a bunch of clone troopers in the same area where walkers are fighting, this is such a way to get squished.

As always I'm a big fan of Tech getting Punchy I love that he's not at all a docile nerd.

Echo stepping forward to encourage Avi to leave because he can't help his people in custody is sweet but would have been slightly better if we got a little more one on one interaction between the two of them. Even just one solid scene would be good.

I'll give the batch one thing, their success/failure rate is slightly better than I remembered, they are up to 3 successes and only 1 major failure

Frankly they should stop doing merc work though and just let Omega gamble her way through the galaxy.

SHOW A LITTLE GRATITUDE TO MY FRIEND. Cid is officially Affectionate towards this small child.

Another good character moment is Wrecker giving Hunter an EXTREMELY SERIOUS *TALK TO THE CHILD* LOOK

Really the main plot of this episode is a good breather but it really shines in tiny moments that make me Squeal a little. Just those little character interactions that I ADORE.

[impala-dreamer]

Help me get my groove back!

Let's make a bingo card of smutty goodness. Send an Ask with your square desire and I'll write it in and then (hopefully) write it!

Prompts like:

Character/Pairing + Kink/Troupe

(Ex: "Negan + Breeding Kink" "Jensen/Reader x only one bed")

Characters and Ships I shall consider at this juncture:

SPN: Dean Winchester (all variations), Castiel (all variations), Ketch, Destiel(×reader)

The Boys: Soldier Boy, Homelander, Butcher.

MCU: Bucky! Steve, Sam Wilson, Stucky×Reader.

Walking Dead Universe: Rick Grimes, Negan, Daryl, Shane

RPF: Jensen Ackles, Misha Collins, Cockles(×reader), JDM, Sebastian Stan, Chris Evans

And... if it's not above and you know I write it, just ask ;)

Ok? Let's do this!

[half-truths-and-hyperbole-louk]

Louk's Bad Batch rewatch part 17 😁

we're getting extremely close now yalls 😳 so I'm going to either shorten my posts or post them a lot closer together ... like I've reserved tomorrow to do nothing but watch tbb 🤫

either way I hope you enjoy 💕

The Bad Batch 1x13

"it's not the first time she has left out key details" ~ Tech @ Cid yeah bud and it won't be the last 👀

pykes 🤢

Omega recognising Ruby the lil lizard thing

Hunter's plan to leave Ord Mantell and do their own thing WE WERE ON THE VERGE OF GREATNESS 😫 WE WERE THIS 🤏 CLOSE

and Cid's just waiting for them on their ship 😡

"I believe she's threatening us" YES SHE IS JUST SHOOT HER ALREADY

poor confused Omega my bby she's using you 🥲

Wrecker wearing his helmet as a hat again 🥺

Cid: "you guys are good at stealth right?" lmao who's gonna tell her

Cid just pulled a Joel Miller with the "we're silent, not quiet, silent" hehe

Wrecker: "we're not afraid of a few bugs" oop-

okay so did Omega name the lizard thing Ruby or is that actually her name?? bc Omega calls it Ruby and after that Roland calls it that too, so is he just copying her or did Omega like force-sense it's name? like how Ahsoka can talk to Grogu?? 🤔

Echo: "ugh and I thought Wrecker was a slob" pls- 💀 stinky boys

bad guys who baby talk to their pets and blow kisses and cuddle them

HOLD UP 👀 Hunter just slammed on the brakes, hijacked the other cart and jumped back off in time for it to move away 👌👌👌

how many times did I watch Hunter jump in the cart? yes

"at least we got rid of the spice right?" ~ Trace Omega + a bonus Tech looking into the camera like he's on the office 👀

I'd trust Bolo and Ketch more than Cid lolol

lmao Cid really thought she did something 💀

they literally all move at lightning speed to get their blasters out when the pyke says he'll keep Omega 👌 then they: 😡😡😡😡

if I was tbb I'd leave Cid at the bottom of the cavern, take the spice to the pykes and leave the planet

they're in the upside down fr

CAN PEOPLE STOP PUTTING OUR BABY IN HANDCUFFS !!!

but she makes friends with everyone 🥺

Roland: *being a spoiled rich kid* Omega: 'do you do crime'

CID YOU NUTBRAINED GECKO IF YOU WEREN'T SO BUSY TELLING WRECKER WHAT TO DO MAYBE YOU WOULDN'T HAVE SINGLE-HANDEDLY WOKEN THE ENTIRE HIVE-

Tech just yeets the light grenade and yells "incoming" I love him sm 🥰

it reminds me of Boba's seismic charge 💕

Hunter's hand on Omega's back when she stands with him and him reaching for her when she steps to Roland 🥺

Omega covering her face when she thinks they're gonna kill Roland 😭

the way I thought Roland was Vizago from rebels when I first saw them cut his horn 💀

Cid says "first rounds on me" and Tech and Echo smile at eachother 🥰

as always thanks for joining my friendsss ilysm 💕

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

So the 20 Qs for Fic Writers had me thinking that I should update y’all on my WIPs. So, I wrote down the file titles and typed the list up for you, my lovely followers.

Update

Want to know what I’ve been working on? See below the cut. ❤️💙💚💛

If you want to know about one or more of the WIPs fics below, please comment or reblog telling me the name(s)/title(s). I’m happy to answer. 😄 Excited to hear from you.

Legend

“ORIGINAL” means it isn’t a fandom fic. It’s my original piece of work.

“ ** ” means it’s published on ao3 and if you want more, you need to let me know in comments here or on ao3 and which one.

✍️ means it is an ask or equest so those are actively being worked on

Fic Titles:

(C) Don’t provoke Dean… (Pack Alpha!Hunter!Dean x Packless Omega!Hunter!Reader)

(C) Fledgling Cas**

#99 prompt (“You’re such a needy, good girl, aren’t you?” Female Sub Reader)

#99 v.2 prompt (“You’re such a needy, good pet, aren’t you?” Gender neutral Sub Reader)

09x03 I’m no angel Alt (just one scene)

09x03 I’m no angel Alt 2.0 (Episode rewrite)

2024-28-Feb Ask Beau x Reader ✍️

Alec M x Reader Crush (Alec McDowell x OFC Reader; Roommates to Lovers)

Alec x Reader 2

Alpha Dr Castiel Alpha Dean sinus

An Angel’s Unexpected Companion

Artsy summer exchange 2024 (Exchange SFW fic)

AU - BDSM Dom Cas switch/Dom Dean

Baby dragon vs the followers of the Thanatos Stone

Being a sex good isn’t all is cracked up to be (God!Dean x Angel!Castiel)

Bingo prompt Soldier Boy camboy

Blind Castiel A/B/O

By the flowers in his eyes (blind Gabriel)

Castiel’s Wings 2.0** (Angel Castiel x Hunter!F!Reader)

Dadstiel Plot 2.0 (Destiel+Kid)

Destiel date night

Domestic Destiel #? Glowy Angel seduction

Domestic Destiel #? Zorro meets Cowboy

Dragon Cas x Dean plot (Giant and Pet…)

Falling in love With an Angel ORIGINAL

Fell in love with a demon (Hell Knight Dean x Witch Reader; MoC Dean x Witch Reader)

Grindr meets long-term PLOT OUTLINE (Paramedic Dean x Doctor Castiel)

Guardian of Humanity A/B/O Plot

Guardian of Humanity A/B/O World and…

Guardian of Humanity Scene Drabble

Heat (Hunters!Destiel x Complex!Reader)

Imagine Dean comes home after having a bad day. (Hunter!Dean x Hunter!Reader)

Janus Coin - Winchester Brotherly Love (Body Swaping)

Post 15x19 DestielxOFC!Alex

Prize - Ketch/Gadreel/Dean+Kid✍️

Regarding Dean Rewrite 12 x 11 (Episode rewrite)

Romancing the Hunter** (Destiel x Reader)

Rough times with your mental illness…

Rough times with your mental illness…2.0

RPF First (Not) Date (Actor!Jensen Ackles x Actress!Female!Reader)

Sam x Psychic Reader (Reader thinks Sam has the most beautiful soul)

Sick Stubborn Reader x Angel Cas

Sinclair’s Daughter

Sleepy Angel Kisses (Destiel)

Soldier Boy x Reader (Solider Boy x Supe!F!Reader)

Spn 2.0 (Series rewrite)

Spn meets Fifth Element

Spn/Lilo & Stitch Fusion

Stereo love (Rock Star!Dean x Music Professor!Castiel)

Stone of Thanatos (death)

Surprise me contd** (Angel!Castiel x Hunter!F!Reader)

The Daughter of Death and Justice concept (Revenge fic, sort of; Destiel x Death Knight!OFC)

The monster under my bed (TFW Case Fic)

The Nephilim’s daughter (Revenge fic; Destiel x Death Knight!OFC)

The Omega (Alphas Destiel x Rescued Omega!Alex)

The Virus ORIGINAL (Origin story of A/B/O)

Two Men and the Virgin (AU - Modern; Husbands!Destiel x Single F!Henri (Neighbors to Lovers))

Vampire Dean (Currently, just smut)

Winchester A Life in the Hunter House (Tiny!Angel!Castiel x Tiny!Dean)

You want two Deans, Cas? (Angel Castiel x Current Dean x Season XX Dean; Slow burn; includes TFW 2.0)

[holylulusworld]

Designed by pain (13)

Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, past break-up, arguments, daddy Dean, angry reader, Mary being a bitch

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

Designed by pain masterlist

Designed by pain (12)

“Did you pack everything, Michael?” You lovingly run your hand over your son’s head. Moving back to the States won’t be easy. It will be a hard piece of work to leave your old life yet again.

Nothing is ever easy with Dean Winchester in your life. He’s like a tornado coming into your life to turn everything upside down.

“Can we stay with Dad and Uncle Sammy? Dean told me so much about his home and Baby! Mommy, he’s got an Impala called Baby and…” He trails off, suddenly falling silent. “Sorry, mommy. You already know that.”

“It’s alright, baby boy.” You softly kiss the top of his head. “Have a look around your room. We don’t want to miss something. We will stay for at least a week or two, okay.”

“Hmmm…okay.” He nods before running off to his room to check if he forgot something.

“Uh-do you really want to meet up with Bobby for a job?” Sam pokes his head inside the living room. “Maybe you can fix things with Ketch, or at least find a new, and better position here, the UK.”

“One could believe that you don’t want Y/N to come with us,” Dean grunts while his brother tries to make sure you’re not making a hasty decision. “She wants to meet up with Bobby. You like Bobby. He’s a good man and an even better employer. If she wants to work for him, it’s none of your business.”

“Guys, can you not fight? I had a lot to prepare before our flight. You are still butting heads like kids,” you snort when Dean gives his brother the stinky eyes. He purses his lips and wildly gestures at your tits. “Dean, my eyes a little higher.”

“I didn’t point at your boobs,” he says but glances at your cleavage. Dean hums, and subconsciously licks his lips. “Even though, they are nice to look at.”

“Dude,” Sam huffs. “Seriously?”

“What?” Dean shrugs. “It’s the truth. Now, back to packing things. Do you need more, sweetheart? I can get some boxes and pack everything up.” He grins, giving you puppy dog eyes.

Sam tries to stop his brother from saying something making you change your mind. “Dean…” He sighs. “Slow down.”

“No, Sammy. I gotta bring her away from that douche. He’s got grabby hands. I won’t let him touch her.” Dean harrumphs. He hates Arthur Ketch with passion.

“That is enough, Dean!” You grab his ear, tugging hard. Dean winces and tries to grab your wrist, but you only tug harder. “I decided to go back to the State to work for Bobby. Not yours, or anyone else’s. There’s a lot to consider and organize before I can even think of moving back to the States.”

“Can you stop fidgeting?” You watch Dean nervously shift in his seat. “Dean, the seat is more than comfortable. This is the first class.”

“How’d you pay for it?” Sam watches you get a credit card out of your purse. You smirk and toss it at him. “Is that a company card?”

“Arthur decided that he doesn’t want to let me go. He insists that I retract my two weeks’ notice. Arthur is not very mature when it comes to rejection, it seems. He told me he’ll do anything to keep me at his company.”

“So, you use the company card to pay for your flight?” Dean snickers. “I love how you think. Even better, you can be so devious.”

“I don’t think that’s legal, Y/N,” Sam, ever the lawyer throws in. “What if he takes legal action?”

“He can eat shit,” you snap at Sam. “I won’t play by his rules any longer. I’m officially on my way to discuss another deal with Bobby Singer. If I invite a few friends to join me on my flight, it’s justified.”

Dean grins proudly. He’d done the same if he was in your shoes. “No swear words in front of the kid,” he says, but chuckles. “We cannot use fecal language when Michael is around.”

You huff and lean back in your seat, closing your eyes to get some sleep. Michael is already asleep, and Sam is close to drifting off himself. Only Dean is antsy and cannot calm down. Not only because of his problem with airplanes but the fact that you are so close too.

“DADDY! We’ve missed you.” You smile when Sam’s kids run toward their father. He immediately wraps his arms around the screaming bunch to hug them. His wife, Jess, shakes your hand while you ask her if Michael can stay here for today. You don’t want to leave him in the hotel room you booked or drag him around.

Holding his kids in his arms Sam sighs. “I’ve missed you too,” he says and hugs them a little tighter. The last days made him see how lucky he truly is. He had the chance to watch his kids growing up and has the love of his life by his side.

“So, Sammy,” Dean clears his throat. “Can Michael stay here and meet his cousins? Y/N wants to talk to Bobby and mother.” He spats the last word.

Jess holds out her hand for your son. “Of course, he can stay here as long as he wants to,” she says when he takes her hand. “How about we go inside, and you can introduce yourself to your cousins, Michael?”

Sam and Jess walk inside their home with your son and their children. You watch them go with a sad expression. You and Dean could’ve had what they have. He’s a little chaotic, and sometimes a mess, but Dean has a good heart.

If only Mary didn’t manipulate your relationship back then…

“How did it go?” Dean asks when you walk out of the building of Bobby’s company. “Did you get the job? Bobby didn’t leave you hanging, right?”

“I got the job, and he will help me find a place to stay,” you tell Dean if only to stop him from asking more questions.

“I know you don’t like me much, but I can help you too. Sammy is good at house hunting, and I’m good at renovating things. You know that. We can help.”

“Dean—” sighing deeply you look at Dean. He offered to drive you around, bringing Baby on purpose. Dean wanted to bring old memories back up. “Can we just drive?”

He raises his hands in surrender and nods. “Where to now?”

“Your mother’s place,” you say, venom in your voice. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never find the courage to face the villain of your story. “I have a lot to discuss with her. And Dean…”

“Yeah?” He furrows his brows. “What can I do for you?”

“I need a ring, with a big diamond. And for you to not say a word. Leave this to me…”

Dean comes back twenty minutes later. He opens his hand to reveal the engagement ring you left behind years ago. You swallow thickly but take the ring to put it on your finger.

“What are you up to?” He asks while following you toward his mother’s house. Dean wonders if he should stop you from confronting his mother. Mary is not going to admit her mistakes or ask for forgiveness.

You smile sweetly, but there is a dangerous glimmer in your eyes. “Revenge,” you say, and grab his hand. You interlace your fingers with his and put your sweetest fake smile on.

“Knock, baby,” you coo, before Dean can chicken out. He starts to sweat but raises his fist to knock. “I will so enjoy this.”

The door opens moments later. Mary looks at her son, smiling because she believes he came back to apologize. But then, her eyes land on you. Your fingers interlaced with Dean’s.

“What are you doing here?” She spats your way. “I didn’t invite you.”

“I wanted to thank you for bringing Dean back into my life,” you let go of Dean’s hand to show off the diamond ring on your finger. “Who would’ve thought that burning the message I left to tell Dean about his unborn son would bring us back together, huh?”

You smirk, seeing the struggle on her face. “I have a grandson?” She hiccups. “No, this is impossible.”

“No,” your eyes grow cold, and you deepen your smirk. “You don’t have a grandson, and you don’t have a son any longer.” Her face falls when you step closer to look her up and down. “Pathetic. Only because your marriage was loveless you wanted to ruin what Dean and I had. What a pity we found each other again.”

“No—you won’t take him back. Not after he left you years ago.” Mary shakes her head, but you simply chuckle.

“We will rise from the ashes, stronger than before. Dean will be a good father for our son and a good husband,” you chuckle darkly. “And you can choke on the hatred and bitterness you consist of. You will never see your grandson because he doesn’t need a coldhearted bitch like you in his life.”

Mary can only watch you grab Dean’s hand to lead him back toward Baby. Your heart hammers in your chest, and you're about to cry because all the hurting hits you again. You won’t, though.

This time you walk away from Mary Winchester, your head held high…

Part 14

Tags in reblog.

[wazzappp]

hey so i mentioned that i was getting into gr, do u have any comic recs that i should read for each of the four?

YEEEE SO HAPPY YOUR GETTING INTO IT!!

Honestly tho I'm really just mostly into Robbie, sorry. I sort of found my favorite boy and stuck with him, so I'm not great with the other ones... BUT BOY CAN I TELL YOU ABOUT ROBBIES COMICS :D

So I'd def recommend Engines of Vengence because it's his first appearance and my favorite art style for Robbie with him. Tradd Moores art is so dynamic and has a lot of really great motion. The fight scenes read incredibly well.

Legend is a great continuation of the story, but I gotta tell you for issues 6-10 I'm really not a big fan of the art style. It's not enough to ruin the experience for me but.. eh. In 11-12, Felipe Smith steps in and holy shit. Tradd Moore is my favorite for Robbie, but Felipe might just be my favorite for Ghost Rider. He looks legitimately vicious in every panel. it's absolutely fantastic.

Four on the floor is a super fun crossover comic with Brawn (Amadaus Cho), Wolverine (Laura Kinney), Silk (Cindy Moon), Phil Couleson and agent May. Also the art is another great highlight and the reason for the 'might be' in naming Felipe Smith as my favorite ghost rider artist because HOLY SHIT DANILO BEYRUTH WENT FUCKING HAM LOOK AT THIS???

This goes UNBELIEVABLY hard. THE POSES IN THIS MAKE HIM LOOK SO FUCKING FERAL ITS SO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I haven't read it but I've heard good things about Ghost Racers. It's got a shit ton of ghost rider variants tho it seems kickass.

I think I'll direct you to @rokhal (hope that's ok) for more general ghost rider comic knowlege cause im not the most informed about Danny Ketch and I literally forgot about Alejandra Jones till I reblogged that post earlier lol.

Don't touch the avengers comics with him in it. The art looks cool but I've heard bad things about it from others.