#open wide for a foot long shit sammie

[yther]

look, it wasn't my fault all y'alls balls ended up in the lost and found 🤷🏻

🪣I'm making better use of them anyway.

[spark-my-nature]

Got You In My Head - SFK

Just before I fell asleep two nights ago, I had this idea, and I couldn't stop thinking about it. It felt so Sammy-coded, so here's my first real Sam fic!

Words: 5.2K

Summary: When the tension between you and your best friend Sam snaps, you lend each other a helping hand. Friends to lovers.

Warnings: Sexual content, masturbation, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up for the love of God), swearing, slight mention of alcohol consumption

Sam’s text didn’t end up coming through your phone until seconds before the boy was knocking at your door. Spotty service outside the city and all. Your best friend was always welcome, it wasn’t that his presence was an issue. But given your current state, a heads-up would have been to your benefit.

You see, the rapid-fire banging on your door came just as you were about to.

You jumped out of your skin at the noise, swiping down to check your notification centre.

Sammy Boy: hey, omw over to hang out, u better be home (2 minutes ago)

You groaned in frustration as you realized you would not be relieving the tension under your fingers anytime soon. In fact, you had a feeling it would only grow worse, considering the object of your frustration was the one knocking at your door. Before your daydream was so rudely interrupted, the imaginary Sam in your head was absolutely devouring you. You pulled your hand out of your sleep shorts regretfully, and retied the string as you padded towards your front door. Swinging it open, you looked at the beaming Samuel Kiszka that stood before you, holding a six pack of white claws.

“What’re you doing here, Samuel,” you questionned, not moving to let him in. He didn’t let that hinder him, pushing past you stubbornly.

“I was bored, and you never have plans on Friday nights, so here I am.” He shrugged with his back to you as he headed into the living room.

Following him in, you argued, “Has anyone ever told you you’re rude?” Flopping on the couch beside your friend, you took the can he handed you.

“Rude? No. Gorgeous? Yes.” He gave you an overly smug, suave-guy smile, and you snorted, finally cracking, and laughing. He giggled and leaned into your shoulder affectionately, kicking his sandals off under your coffee table.

“Yeah, you’re lucky you’re pretty, counteracts the charming arrogance,” you teased, shifting back and swinging your legs up over Sam’s lap. His hands settled easily over your knees, holding you in place as he cracked open his can. He took a loud gulp, swallowing with an obnoxious “ahhhh” before smacking his lips.

“You’ve hung around for this long, pretty girl, you must think I have some redeeming qualities,” Sam raised an eyebrow at you. You giggled, “Oh yeah, the way you drink like a four-year-old really makes me swoon.”

Sam snickered and reached his arm out, tickling the bottom of your bare foot in retaliation. You screeched and jerked your leg away, narrowly missing his jaw. Letting out a high-pitched laugh you swatted his hand away. “NO no! Don’t tickle, shit head!”

Sam smiled wide at your laugh. “Most people would refrain from name-calling when they want something, princess.” His hands settled back on your thighs. You snorted, “You just wanted an excuse to touch my feet, creep.”

Sam smacked a palm over his forehead. “For fucks sake, I don’t like feet,” he implored dramatically, clapping his hands in the air in front of him with each word. You tossed your head back laughing at how your little joke hit a nerve. “Whatever you say Sam, I’m not here to shame.”

An annoyed glare was shot your way. “At least I don’t have a piss kink-“ His sentence was interrupted by a throw pillow launched at his face. “I DON’T,” You yelled through laughter, sitting up and punching his shoulder. Sam joined you in laughter, unable to argue as he gasped for air.

You both slowly calmed down to occasional bursts of giggles.

Your head was back on the armrest of the couch, staring at the ceiling, catching your breath. You could feel Sam’s eyes on you, but you closed yours feigning ignorance. Then you felt Sam’s hand on your thigh start rubbing gently.

Touches like these were fairly common between you two. Though the line had never been crossed, the flirting was incessant, to the point Jake and Josh, and even Danny for cryin’ out loud had told you to get a room.

You always assumed Sam just didn’t feel that way about you, though. He never acted on it if he did, always backing down or killing the moment when any tension arose. But if you were being honest, you couldn’t say the same. Nobody could deny Sam’s attractiveness. His sharp angles and soft skin, the delicate pout of his lips and those gentle eyes. His long, shiny hair that always had pieces falling out of his messy buns. You couldn’t pinpoint when your crush on Sam started, but it had been simmering for years at this point.

Which is why when his large, warm hands slid up and down your thigh, your breath hitched. Suddenly reminded of the activities his arrival had interrupted, you became hyper-aware of the proximity of his hands to your over-heated centre.

Sam, of course, was ever observant, and picked up on the change in your breathing. He could feel your thigh tensing under his touch, and his eyes trailed up your body, landing on your face. Playing it off, you cleared your throat, and shifted slightly, taking a sip of your drink and avoiding his eyes.

You missed the small smirk that played on his lips as he too took a drink.

Sam pushed the limit, a talent of his, sliding his hand slightly higher, his pinky brushing the hem of your shorts. “So how was the shop this week?” he asked casually.

Your eyes shot to his roaming hand, swallowing subtly. “Oh, uhh… it was fine, y’know. Lots of orders right now, with all these new releases coming out,” you told him. He nodded, continuing to tease at your hem, “Sounds busy, you must be stressed?” he remarked, watching your face carefully.

“Well, yeah, definitely more wound up these da-“ an unintentional gasp interrupted you when Sam’s fingers slipped quickly up the short distance under your shorts, brushing against the crease where your thigh met your groin. Finally your eyes darted up to meet Sam’s, unable to ignore his touches anymore. Not when you knew damn well you didn’t have any panties on, and he had just felt the soft dusting of your pubic hair.

Sam’s pupils were blown wide, his soft lips parted. He looked half-stunned, in disbelief that he’d gotten this far. His eyes traveled from his fingers on your thigh to meet your stunned gaze.

Your voice was soft and hesitant when you spoke, “Sam?” He chewed absently on his lip before answering, “Yeah?”

You searched for the right words. What do you do? Should you joke, break the tension? Do you ask him what he’s doing? Should you just see where this goes?

You debated quickly, deciding to tease him right back like the little shit deserves.

Ignoring his response, you looked down where your calves rested across his lap. You bent your knee just enough to drag your leg across his crotch. You both gasped at the same time, him from the intimate touch, and you from the sudden awareness of his cock, hard and twitching where it rested down his pant leg of his sweats. Chancing a glance down, you caught the outline of his penis under the grey fabric before Sam pushed your legs off his lap suddenly, bringing his knee up to hide his groin.

While you were no longer frozen, the thickness in the air remained. Sam was hard. Your best friend was rock hard, right beside you. Hard… because of you?

You sat up, quickly resting your hand on his knee to slow him down, “Sam, h-hold on.”

His eyes met yours again, and you watched his adams apple bob. He looked almost scared, but his flushed cheeks and blown out pupils gave away the desire coursing through his veins. You flickered your gaze to his mouth, licking your lips and meeting his stare.

The tension was palpable, neither of you daring to move or break the spell, until you exhaled shakily.

Sam muttered lowly, “Y/N?”

“Yeah, Sam?”

“I’m… I won’t lie, I’m really fucking horny.” Sam blushed at his confession, searching your face for any signs of a reaction.

You bit your lip, struggling to maintain his intense eye-contact. “Me too,” you breathed.

Sam exhaled slowly, resting his hand over yours on his knee, and slowly, he lowered his knee, effectively sliding your hand up to rest mid-thigh. His erection demanded attention in the confines of his sweats, and you looked down from his eyes to take in the sight of it.

Fucking grey sweatpants, a blessing and a curse.

You muffled a quiet moan, biting your lip. Sam sat up straighter at the noise, taking a deep breath to calm down. “Can we…?” he gestured to your room down the hall. Your jaw dropped slightly at the implication.

Sam’s eyes widened, “No, no, we don’t have to, I’m sorry, I just thought we could uhh, um-” He frantically thought for the right words. You sat up straight beside him, “No, it’s fine, I-“ you started to reassure him, but he interrupted your soft words, “-masturbate together.”

You blushed bright pink, despite the rush of heat you felt growing in your shorts. Sam looked at you, gaging your reaction carefully. You bit your lip, and after a moment, nodded. “Okay,” you breathed.

Sam’s eyes widened. “Re-…really? You wanna?” he confirmed shakily.

You nodded again, a shy smirk spreading across your face. Sam smiled back, his own cheeks flushing. You took the lead and stood up, grabbing Sam’s hand, and gently pulled him up and down the hall. His eyes dipped down, roaming your body shyly. Your thin shirt left little to the imagination, nipples poking out under the white fabric. Enjoying the way Sam looked at you, you smirked, feeling your confidence returning. “Checking me out, Sammy?” you teased softly.

Sam smirked in return, “I can’t believe this is happening, you’re so hot,” he confessed. You giggled turning and pushing past the door into your bedroom. “I’d tell you the same, but it’d go right to your head,” you told him, and he smirked anyway.

You thanked your earlier self for changing the bedsheets earlier, and tidying up. You sat on the edge of your bed, pulling Sam down to sit beside you. Holding his hands in yours, you looked in his eyes shyly. “This won’t make it weird between us right?” Sam shook his head, and in a surprisingly tender move, he cupped your cheek. “I gotta be honest, I’ve liked you for a really long time,” he confessed softly, eyes trailing over your face, “You are… hilarious, sexy, smart… sexy…” he trailed off, smirking and you giggled, leaning into his touch. “This might be new for us… together, but it’s not the first time I’ve thought about it.”

You bit your lip, looking down. “Well, in the name of honesty…” Sam cocked his head curiously. “I was actually in the middle of… yknow… when you knocked.” You chuckled shyly.

Sam’s eyes widened and he breathed out softly. His hand moved over his erection, palming it slowly. “I interrupted you?” You watched his hand breathlessly, nodding. “Fuck, that’s so hot. What were you thinking about princess?” Sam breathed, touching himself with more conviction.

You swallowed hard, staring at his movements. “Thinking about what it would be like to fuck you,” you whispered hoarsely. Sam groaned at your words, head lolling forwards, his hair falling around his face. You bit your lip hard.

You pulled his arm gently, lying back on the bed and guiding him to lie beside you. You both settled on your backs, face to face. You both giggled shyly, more from nerves than anything, but lust took over when you watched Sam’s fingers slip under his waistband.

Under the cover of his pants, you watched his hidden fist wrap around his cock. A shuddery sigh escaped his parted lips, and his eyelids fluttered, gaze trained on your face. He nodded downward, silently telling you to join him. You bit your lip, sliding your hand into your shorts. Your fingers met your clit, and you swirled them around your clit slowly.

You whimpered quietly, causing a groan to rumble out of the boy beside you. His fist moved up and down his cock steadily, and he watched your hand moving under your shorts.

Lust clouded your brain, so incredibly horny for the gorgeous boy beside you. You looked up at his flushed face, his brows furrowed tightly. God, Sam was beautiful.

You whined softly, circling your clit faster. “Fuck Sammy, you’re so sexy,” you moaned breathlessly. Sam’s eyes squeezed shut for a second before training back on you. “God, babe, you are too,” he strained.

A naughty idea flashed across your mind, and you figured you’d already gone this far, why not.

Bringing your free hand up to the hem of your shirt, you slowly pulled up the fabric. Sam’s jaw dropped, watching closely. You pulled your shirt up over your breasts, exposing your chest to his hungry eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” Sam breathed, his fist moving faster in his pants, his eyes absolutely glued to your tits. “Fuck-“ He bucked into his hand involuntarily, eyes fluttering but desperate to keep them open. You moaned, loving the feeling of his eyes all over you like this.

“Your tits are so perfect, princess,” he whined, hair increasingly disheveled on the pillow. You panted, still rubbing your clit steadily. “Yeah, you like that Sammy?” you cooed seductively. He groaned loudly at your words, nodding quickly.

“Touch ‘em then,” you dared him softly, feeling brave. His eyes flew wide open, unsure if he heard you right. You blushed, but nodded in confirmation. Sam extended his free hand, hesitantly cupping your breast. He whimpered under his breath, squeezing softly, then swiping his thumb across your nipple. You gasped and moaned, feeling incredibly naughty, letting your best friend touch your tits, the thought surprisingly getting you even more desperate.

You looked down at the action in Sam’s pants, biting your lip. Sam followed your gaze, looking back up at you darkly. “You wanna see?” he smirked. You looked into his eyes and nodded hungrily. His devilish smirk widened and he lifted his hips off the bed. He hooked his thumbs into the band of his sweats and pushed them down to his knees, kicking them off. Once he settled back down, you dared to look down.

Your mouth watered at the sight of him. He was longer than you imagined, perfectly girthy and achingly hard. His fingers curled around his cock once more, watching your face as he brought his hand up his length, putting on a show for you. Your breathing picked up, soft whimpers leaving your lips. Sam’s fist jerked lazily over his cock and he let out soft little gasps and grunts. “Love the way you watch me,” he muttered.

“I like the view,” you whispered back. He smirked at you through his lust induced haze. “Yeah? Like what you see?” He squeezed his cock, face twitching with a sigh. You whimpered, “Yeah, I really like your cock,” you stared at it as you spoke. Sam groaned, encouraging you to continue. “It’s so big, Sammy. So pretty,” you moaned, fingers flying over your clit now.

Sam’s jaw hung open, growling ferally. He slowed his movements, calming himself down to prolong his pleasure. “Can you take off your shorts?” he asked hopefully.

You blushed and smiled shyly. “Yeah, fair’s fair,” you giggled breathlessly. You untied the bow holding your shorts up, and pushed them down, kicking them off. You layed back down, scooting a little closer to Sam so your side was pressed against his. You hooked your leg over his, letting your knees fall open. Sam leaned up on his elbow to get a better view of your pussy. Under his chin, you could see his jaw drop in pleasure, his fist pumping himself quickly. You resumed flicking your fingers across your clit, wet noises now echoing from your soaked lips. His chest heaved as he stared at your centre, spread wide open for him.

Sam whimpered, “Fuck…” His head fell back and he let go of his cock suddenly. His hand moved over your bodies to rest on your upper thigh. He made eye contact with you before asking, “Please princess, can I touch your pussy?”

You felt faint with desperation, nodding enthusiastically. “God, yes, Sam. Wanted to feel those bass fingers for ages.” You gave him a mischievous smirk, knowing he

Sam wasted no time, rolling on his side. In this position, his cock pressed against your thigh, a delicious feeling you memorized for later. His fingers came over and immediately dipped between your soaking wet lips. You both moaned simultaneously, Sam’s fingers rubbing up and down your slit, slipping effortlessly between your folds with obscene wet sounds. You arched into his touch, sighing with a high-pitched whine.

Sam’s eyebrows tightly knit together. “Fuck, you’re so soft and wet… pretty pink little pussy, so fucking soaked for me,” he praised. Sam slipped his middle and ring finger into your entrance, immediately pumping in and out. You groaned loudly, bucking your hips to fuck back against his hand, feeling his perfectly curled fingers dragging across that perfect spot with every thrust. You hadn’t bet on your best friend being so vocal, but his filthy words fanned the fire burning in you.

“Oh fuck Sam, yes, god, just like that, mmmmm,” your eyes fell shut, feeling your orgasm simmering under the surface.

Before you could protest, Sam’s fingers slipped out of you and he crawled over your body, laying between your legs. You barely opened your mouth before he latched his lips on your clit. You cried out, his tongue lapping up your slit lazily, his hooded eyes fluttering up to meet your gaze. He stared into your eyes as he licked and sucked at your pussy, his fingers returning to slip inside. They pumped in and out, matching the pace of his tongue. You stared down at the beautiful boy between your legs, adrenaline pounding your heart. The moment was surreal, all this time you’d imagined exactly this in the middle of the night, desperately craving relief, and now Sam, your Sammy was eating you out with a passion matching your own, staring into your eyes.

Your jaw hung open, brows tightly knit as you panted and whimpered. “Sammy… so close,” you whined, grinding against his face. Sam grumbled drunkenly against your pussy, “Cum for me, princess,” before diving back in. He flicked his tongue rapidly over your clit and then with another, final suck, you were hurtling over the edge. Crying out hoarsely, you rode against his face, working yourself through it as Sam moaned into you.

Your thighs finally gave out, collapsing back onto the bed. Sam gasped for air, lifting himself up off his elbows and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and licking your juices off his fingers. You watched hungrily. He knelt at your feet, panting softly, staring at you in awe. “You taste so good,” he whispered, almost to himself. You smiled lazily up at him, “holy shit,” you giggled breathlessly, no other words coming to you.

A huge smile spread across Sam’s face, “Yeah? S’good?” he asked eagerly, the boyish charm you loved peeking through. You bit your lip, nodding, and you fisted the collar of his shirt, tugging him down over top of you. He laughed, catching himself and leaning his face over yours.

When your eyes met, there was a surge of electricity between you, like the world froze for a moment. Just the two of you existed in this little world, nothing mattered to you except Sammy. Wordlessly, you both crashed your lips together simultaneously, finally kissing each other with all the pent up emotion from years of tension. Nothing had ever felt more right to you, nothing could ever be more perfect than Sam’s warm soft lips molding to yours. Your heart pounded in your ears like a middle schooler, but Sam’s kiss felt like your first in this moment.

He moved his hand up and tenderly cupped your face, deepening the kiss. You moaned quietly, your hands slipping up under the hem of his shirt, which for some godforsaken reason was still on. Running your hands over his smooth, lean chest, Sam ran his tongue along your lip, silently asking for entrance. You happily obliged, meeting his tongue with yours. The makeout was getting sloppier and more desperate, and you finally parted with a gasp of air. Your eyes fluttered open at the same time, and you both giggled softly. Sam’s cheeks tinted pink, and he whispered, “Please tell me this isn’t a one-time thing, I can’t go without kissing you now that I know what it’s like.” His puppy-dog eyes pleaded with you and you leaned up to kiss him softly again.

“It’s you and me, now, Sammy. Always,” you whispered against his lips. Sam’s stretched into a huge smile and he kissed you again desperately. You pulled away just long enough to pull his shirt over his head before you reconnected. Hands roamed across bodies, mouths working together. Sam slid the hand on your cheek down to your breast, squeezing gently with a soft moan of desire.

You remembered that he had yet to get off, and you smirked against his lips. Sam pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, mirroring your mischievous smile. “What?” he pried.

Your hand slid down his chest further, across his abdomen, thoroughly enjoying the way his breath hitched at your descent. Your fingers raked across his pubic area and wrapped lightly around the base of Sam’s cock, achingly hard and hot in your hand. Sam shuddered, his breath picking up as he watched you. You stroked him a few times, getting used to the feel of him in your hand, Sam’s jaw clenching. He growled lowly as you sped up your movements. You watched his face in wonder, holding his pleasure in your hand, literally. “Fuck,” he breathed softly.

You spread your legs a little wider, running the tip of his cock through your folds just to watch his reaction. Sam’s brows knit tight together, his eyes fluttering shut with a feral sounding moan. His head fell forward, giving you access to whisper in his ear.

“I want you to fuck me, but first I wanna suck your pretty cock.”

Every muscle in Sam’s body stiffened, and his face shot up to look at you in disbelief. You smiled innocently. “Will you let me? Please Sammy?” you cooed, twirling his hair around your finger with your free hand.

Sam looked like you just gave him a puppy for Christmas. He nodded eagerly, rolling beside you to flop on his back and looking over at you with a giddy smile. You giggled at his enthusiasm, leaning over him to kiss him again. As your lips worked against his, you ran your hand down his front lovingly. He sighed softly at your touch, a rush of butterflies swirling in your stomach at the sound. You kissed down his sharp jawline, Sam’s head lolling to the side, and lazily kissed down his neck. Shifting up on your knees to crawl down the bed, you kissed his tummy with a smile, then his hip bone, and then a gentle trail down his thighs. He squirmed under your attention, a dopey grin on his face as he watched. You switched, kissing up his other thigh, your cheek brushing the delicate skin of his balls. Sam whined quietly, biting his lip hard. You eyed his cock, lying against his stomach. It twitched, precum pooling on Sam’s stomach.

You leaned down, flattening your tongue and licking slowly up his length. Sam groaned, tensing to keep still. Smirking at his reaction, you did it again, this time picking him up and taking his tip into your mouth. His jaw fell open and his hand reached down to brush your hair out of the way, bunching it in his fist gently. You hummed into him, swirling your tongue around the head experimentally. “Shit- agh,” he hissed. You looked up at him innocently, taking more of his length in your mouth, gently pumping the rest. Sam’s head fell back with a groan. “Princess, I’m gonna cum too soon, can I fuck you now?” He begged.

You giggled, mouth still full of him, making his hips buck slightly. Pulling off him, you let a drop of spit fall on his cock, coating him and stroking him languidly. Sam whined desperately, “Please, please stop, I wanna be inside you!”

His words flooded your core, and you let go of him and crawled up to straddle his waist. He gripped your hips, dragging your sopping wet core over his length deliciously. You both moaned, and too impatient to wait any longer, you grabbed him and lined him up with your entrance, sinking down on his cock.

Sam’s eyes rolled back at the feeling of you, the perfect stretch of him bringing forth a shuddery whimper. “Yes, aaaagh,” he groaned. You started rolling your hips, riding him steadily. His hands squeezed at your ass, his head tossed back.

“So good, Sammy, you feel so fucking good,” you panted, gripping his shoulders.

Sam looked up at you, brows furrowed. “You’re so fucking tight, so wet and warm,” he thrusted up into you meeting your hips. “Fucking made for my cock,” he growled through gritted teeth.

You cried out, riding him faster, feeling your orgasm brewing already. “Wanna feel you cum in me,” you begged him, “make me yours, Sammy, I’m all yours.”

Sam looked like he felt faint, but he wrapped his arms around you and effortlessly rolled you onto your back without slipping out. You gasped, and he started pounding into you relentlessly.

“That’s right. All… fucking… mine…” he thrusted with each word, his cock diving deep with obscene wet slapping sounds.

You couldn’t form words, simply moaning way too loud and arching your back.

Sam grabbed your right leg, bending it up and placing it over his shoulder, diving deeper into you. He let out a hoarse yell, fucking into you harder and faster.

With a scream of his name, you came hard, white hot pleasure searing through your body. Faintly, you heard Sam letting go, hips faltering as he shot spurt after spurt of his cum into you. When your vision cleared, you looked down at him, eyes widening at the dripping wet mess coating his lower half and your sheets. Sam looked equally dumbfounded, slipping out of you slowly. He sat back on his ankles as both of you caught your breath. “That’s so fucking hot, princess,” he breathed, astounded.

You chuckled, “I-I’ve never… that’s never happened,” you panted.

Sam’s face contorted into the biggest shit-eating grin you’d ever seen on him, and that was saying something. You rolled your eyes and giggled, pulling him down with you as you flopped back on the bed. “Shut up,” you smirked.

“I didn’t say a thing-“ “You were thinking it” You both giggled, high off the endorphins. You snuggled into Sam’s side, nestling your head in the crook of his neck and kissing his sweaty skin tenderly. His arms wrapped around you snugly, like they were meant to be there.

You hummed contentedly. “Well, we can add that to the list of things we’re great at together,” you joked softly.

Sam snickered, running his fingers through your hair gently. “Oh yeah, we’d win awards,” he agreed. You couldn’t stop the huge smile on your face as you breathed in his familiar scent, your hand lazily running across his chest. Sam felt it in his neck, smiling wide in return as he looked at the ceiling. “What’re you thinking?”

You bit your lip, nuzzling further into his neck. “Thinkin’ about how much I love you, Sammy.”

Under your fingers, you felt his heart beating faster, and it made you smile impossibly wider. You felt his lips press a soft kiss to the top of your head, and he softly told you, “Love you more, baby.”

You did a happy little wiggle against his side, and he giggled softly. “You’re so cute,” he sighed.

You lifted your face from his neck and crinkled your nose at him. “You’re cute.”

Sam pecked your lips, “nope, you.” You faux-glared at him, “YOU Samuel!”

He shrugged dismissively, “We can do this all day, but the fact remains, that you are the cutest girl in the entire universe, and I am so… so fucking lucky,” He looked at you, the silly banter turning serious. Your eyes softened as you looked into his.

“I feel so lucky too,” you whispered. “Fallin’ in love with my best friend, and all.”

Sam leaned his forehead against yours, his hand snaking into your hair to hold you close, his other arm wrapping around your middle securely. “God I’m so glad you were dumb enough to fall in love with me too,” he smiled.

You giggled softly and leaned in to kiss him deeply. You kissed for a while, and then you pulled back, giggling as he chased your lips. “Jake and Josh are gonna lose it,” you grinned.

Sam laughed, “I mean, yeah, but I wasn’t thinking about those idiots right now.” You cocked your head playfully. “Oh? And what were you thinking about, pray tell?”

Sam smiled mischievously. “How I made you squirt the first time we had sex,” he admitted.

You rolled your eyes with a groan. “Boys,” you sighed, shaking your head.

Sam laughed. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Sort of.”

You snorted as Sam leaned close to you again, brushing his nose against yours. “I was mostly thinking about how much I adore you, and how you’re my best friend, and how it’s probably not appropriate to call you that after the mind-blowing sex…” You giggled, making him smile wider. “So I was also thinking about… how I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend.” He said shyly.

Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest, and you let out a breathless giggle. “Go ahead then,” you smiled.

Sam laughed lightly. “Not letting me off the hook, should have expected it.”

He sat up then, facing you as he knelt. He took your hands in his sweetly, and he brought them up, kissing the back of each hand, holding eye-contact as he did. You bit your lip, smiling wide.

“Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?” He asked softly, cocking his head and looking at you with that heart-stopping smile of his.

You nodded quickly. “I’d be honoured, Sammy,” you answered, pulling him into a kiss.

He melted into your touch, humming softly in contentment. Everything this boy did made your heart flutter.

You weren’t sure when you’d ever been this happy. Everything had fallen into place, exactly the way it was always meant to. With Sam by your side.

[watchingovergvff]

Its Always Been You- Sam Kiszka

Summary: It’s been months since you’ve seen your best friend. Spending New Years together was tradition. So, why does everything feel like it’s changing?

Genre: Best Friends to Lovers. Fluff.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Alcohol Consumption.

A/N: I love to hear feedback, so don’t hesitate to do so. Thank you for all the love and support<333

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Four Months.

It’s only been four months since you’ve seen the boys, but it feels like it’s been years.

Due to their crazy tour schedule and your seemingly never-ending work days, the five of you haven’t been able to see each other. You would get the occasional call or text, but that’s as good as it got.

But that would all change tonight.

The boys finally got a break for Christmas and had been home with family for the past few days. Of course, not being able to sit still for very long, they all decide to throw a New Year’s Eve party, which they graciously invited you to.

Thrilled was an understatement.

You missed both Jake and Josh worrying over you like mother hen, or telling you all about their latest adventures. You missed staying up all night with Danny, talking about anything and everything until the sun hung high in the sky. And Sam…

Well things with Sam where a bit more complicated. See, Danny and Sam happen to be your best friends, always have been. The three of you were attached at the hip for god knows how long. While you missed them both deeply while they were away on tour, you missed Sam a bit differently.

You couldn’t exactly put your finger on when you fell in love with Sam, but it’s been a very long time, to say the least. Of course, you have never shared this information with him before, in fear you would ruin everything you’ve built with him. You had come to terms with hiding your feelings at all costs.

Which leads us back to the present, you were anxious as fuck.

Were you excited? Yes. But, that didn’t stop the pounding of your heart as you quickly got ready.

Smoothing out your dress in the mirror, you look at yourself. The red long-sleeve dress had been the right choice for tonight’s events. After sliding on your shoes, you get a text from Jake that he is outside waiting for you.

Scurrying around your apartment, making sure you have everything. Finally, you trot out the front door in search of his car.

Climbing into the back seat, you grin at Jake and his girlfriend. They both complement your attire for the night, claiming the red suited you best.

“We missed you, Kid. It feels like it’s been years since we have gotten together. Danny and Sam have been itching to see you since we stepped foot into town” Jake says. You agree full heartedly, already giddy about seeing them all.

The ride is short, but full of laughter due to Jake recalling stories from tour. Once the three of you rounded the corner to Sam’s house, your forgotten anxiety seems to find its way back to you, pounding its way to your chest.

Jake and his girlfriend walk ahead of you, while you attempt to catch your breath. Eventually, you follow behind them, all the way up to the front door. The door swings wide open, with Danny standing in the doorway. He greets Jake and his girlfriend, not expecting you behind them. The minute he spots you, he scoops you up into his arms, squeezing you tight. “Bug, holy shit! You’re here. I missed you so much” Danny says, after reluctantly setting you down. You nudge his side, “I missed you too, Dan. It’s been way to long. Now be a good friend and show me where I can get a good drink” you smile at him. He chuckles at you, looping your arms together and leads you in the direction of the kitchen.

“You know, I’m not the only one who missed you. Sammy boy did his fair share of pinning for you as well” he says teasingly.

Okay. To be fair, you didn’t mean to tell Danny about your small Sam predicament. The both of you had a movie night at his house, that turned into drunken confessions at three a.m. He managed to coax the truth out of you and now he won’t let you forget it.

You roll your eyes at Danny and begin to reply, but instead you get pulled in the other direction. Josh bear hugs you and mumbles under his breath about how much he missed you, and couldn’t wait to show you some of the music they had been working on. Rubbing at his back, you gently pull away. You tell him to go drink some water. He grumbles at you, telling you to find him later for a dance and then he stumbles off.

You make it into the kitchen, spotting the makeshift bar on the counter. After successfully making something that doesn’t taste horrible, you stand observing the room, that is until you hear an all too familiar laugh. Butterflies find themselves fluttering inside your stomach. Whipping your head around just to spot Sam chatting it up with some guy you’ve never met before. You decided to find him later, not wanting to interrupt.

You find yourself on Sam’s back porch, gazing at the night sky all alone. Leaning up against the railing of the porch, you hear the backdoor open and close. Figuring it was probably Danny, you don’t make a move to turn and see for yourself. Suddenly, you feel fingers wiggling at your sides. You squirm around in their hold, wanting to see who the culprit was.

Of course, it was him.

Sam.

He had the stupidest grin spread wide across his face. Sam pulled you close, hugging you tightly.

He missed you, you missed him, nothing needed to be said. The embrace was evident enough.

The both of you slip from each other’s grip but remain side by side. The two of you begin sharing stories of anything and everything that happened while the two of you were apart. After gasping and laughing at each other’s stories for what felt like hours, the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, gazing at everything, but each other.

“Bug, I…” Sam calls out to you.

The backdoor busts open and Jake comes staggering out. He starts screeching at you in his iconic British accent, demanding to have one dance with you. Never being able to say no to any of them you reluctantly agree.

Glancing back at Sam, you ask if he is tagging along, but he somberly declines, clearly wanting a moment alone. You nod, but begin to worry you may have caused his saddened mood.

The night carries on with the silliest of antics.

Jake spins you round and round. Josh keeps your cup full. Danny cheers along, encouraging Jake’s ridiculous behavior. All the while, Sam sits in the corner, wishing it was him you were dancing with.

It’s about thirty minutes till midnight, and you’ve managed to pull Jake off of you for the time being. Once again you find yourself on the back porch, alone, but not for long. Sam finds his way back outside eventually.

He sits a bit of distance away from you and lights a cigarette. The both of you are tense and silent, a completely different atmosphere since the first time on the porch. Eventually, you get sick of the silence cornering the both of you.

“Sam, did I do something wrong, you’ve been avoiding me all night since the first time we came out here. You can talk to me, whatever it is” you glance over at him, only to find that he was already looking at you.

He stands and closes the space between the two of you. Reaching his hand over, he pushes a stray hair behind your ear. He gazes at you saying, “I don’t think I can, Bug”.

The two of you stare longingly at each other for what feels like a life time.

You sigh, not wanting to push him on the matter. “You don’t have to but know you can tell me anything, no matter what” you say.

You start to make your way back inside, but before you can even make it two steps away, Sam is tugging you back into him.

“It’s just… I haven’t seen you in months, despite my attempts to push you to the back of my mind, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Every single second of everyday, my mind was full of only you. It always has been and it kills me to watch you from afar. I’ve been so anxious all week because I knew you were coming tonight. And when I caught a glimpse of you tonight, in that pretty dress, all I could think about was how much I would regret not telling you how I actually feel. You haunt my mind day and night, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. It’s always been you, always. I love you, Bug”.

You stare at Sam in disbelief. Bring your hands up to his face, cupping his jaw. “I don’t know what to say, I….” you whisper.

“You don’t have to say anything, I just couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t tell you” Sam shoots out.

“No Sam, I...”

“I understand if you only see me as a friend, I just wanted-

“Sam!” you holler at him.

He snaps his mouth shut looking down at you.

“Are you kidding me” you chuckle out. “Sam, I’ve been in love with you since we met, dumbass. It’s always been you Sammy, always”.

The New Year’s Eve countdown begins.

10, 9…

You both grin at each other, realizing just how infatuated you are with one another.

6, 5...

“Bug, can I kiss you?” he asks.

2, 1…

“Please do” you whisper, tugging his face down to meet yours.

Cheers are heard all across the house, making toasts to the new year. The both of you stay in your little bubble, not wanting to interrupt it quite yet.

Reluctantly, the both of you pull away from one another. Sam pulls you tight into his chest, whispering melodic words and promises of love.

The outside world long gone, being responsible can wait another day.

The both of you gaze into the sky, watching fireworks, utterly in love with one another.

———

A/N: Part Two???!!!! Hope you enjoyed

[spnhunter4life]

So Long Version 2 Chapter 2

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Canon typical violence

A/N: If version 2 is the first time you're reading this, I hope you enjoy! If you've read version 1 and are reading this also, thanks for the support! Let me know which version you prefer.

Series Masterlist

Ages 12 and 16 July 23, 1995

Dean’s POV

The beds at this motel were probably some of the best quality I’d ever seen. The mattresses weren’t lumpy or too hard and they didn’t smell musty or like cigarette smoke. There weren’t any questionable stains on the blankets either. It was actually a comfortable bed, and I didn’t take that for granted. I would undoubtedly be sleeping on a bed that was much less comfortable and much more sketchy in the next day or two. 

We were in Washington right now, but we’d just finished the job last night. It had been my second official hunt, and I was still thrilled that I was finally allowed to be involved, to actually get to chase down and kill the monster instead of being stuck at home doing research. 

It was only a simple salt and burn case, but I’d still had a lot of fun. Things had gotten exciting when the ghost showed up as we were searching the abandoned house she used to live in for the object she was tied to – it turned out to be the knife she had been killed with, still covered in her blood – but other than getting a little bruised up from being thrown across the room, nobody had gotten hurt. 

It had been a long night though, and so, exhausted, I hadn’t been able to do more than strip down to my t-shirt and boxers before collapsing on top of the bed and falling asleep almost immediately. 

I had slept deeply. I was slowly making my way towards consciousness, clinging to the dream I was already forgetting. It was about me and Jenna. We were… out with friends? On a date? The details were hazy and fading quick. I think we were at the movies maybe. I was startled into alertness by Sam’s gasp.

I grabbed the knife from under my pillow, rolled onto my back, and sat up, scanning the room for a threat. There was nothing though. Dad was gone, probably either talking with Ben or gone out to grab breakfast and coffee. There was just Sam standing at the foot of my bed, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, staring intently at my ankle. Staring at the name that was tattooed there.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” He cried out in the voice of a little brother outraged at being left in the dark.

“Shit,” I muttered as I got out of bed and started getting dressed to hide the evidence. But the damage had already been done.

“Dean!” Sam protested.

“Let it go Sammy,” I ordered, rifling through my duffel bag for some clean clothes, deciding a shower was in order. 

“Let it go?” Sam echoed, trailing me towards the bathroom. “Dean, this is huge! I thought we didn’t have secrets. You guys should have told me!” he insisted.

I set my clothes on the counter and was ready to threaten him to keep his mouth shut when something seemed to occur to him.

“Wait,” he said, backtracking a little. “Jenna does know, doesn’t she?”

“I’m only going to tell you this once Sam, so listen up. I don’t care if you’re my brother. If you ever tell anyone, especially her, I will end you,” I warned before slamming the door in his face.

Great, I thought. I’d been able to keep this thing a secret for less than a year. I wasn’t at all sure that I could trust Sam not to say something. Sure, he could keep a secret if he wanted to, but I didn’t know if I would be able to convince him that this needed to stay between us. Anxious thoughts swirled in my head throughout my shower, but by the time I got out I had a persuasive argument ready to go.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Sam was on the couch, restlessly tapping his fingers against his knee. He looked up at the sound of the door opening and stood to face me.

“I won’t say anything,” Sam rushed out at the same time I said, “We need to talk.”

“What?” I asked, not having heard him over my own statement.

“I won’t say anything,” he promised. “But… why haven’t you told her?”

I sighed. I should have expected this. Should have, but didn’t. I’d planned out how to persuade him not to tell anyone, had considered potential arguments he might throw my way. I hadn’t anticipated him immediately complying or the simple question that followed. I ran a hand through my hair as I considered how to answer. 

“You know why,” I finally said, deciding that the argument I’d planned out would work as an explanation to his question. He just stared at me expectantly.

“I haven’t exactly made a secret of the fact that I don’t want to know my soulmate. That I don’t want her stuck living this life,” I told him.

“You love this life,” he pointed out.

“Yeah. I do. But it’s dangerous and it means never having a home. I won’t force her into that,” I explained.

“But she’s already a part of it. You won’t be forcing her into anything,” he responded.

“Just because she’s in this life now doesn’t mean she has to be in it forever. She’ll be able to make her own decisions in a few years. She can find somewhere she likes and stay there. She can get out of hunting.”

“Who says she wants to?” Sam asked. 

“Well then that’s her choice if she doesn’t want to quit. I’m not going to be the reason though. I don’t want her hunting with me out of a feeling of obligation. I won’t do that to her.” I told him.

“You keep talking about her being able to do what she wants. What if what she wants is to be with you? Did you consider that?” he argued.

I had considered it. I decided that until I had a reason to think that she was interested in something more, I would leave things the way they were. I was happy just to have her in my life, in any way. I wasn’t going to push for more when what I had was already more than I could have ever hoped for. My soulmate was with me every day. And I didn’t have to worry about scaring her away. She already knew the whole truth about me and my life.

Frustrated that he kept pushing, I snapped, “I thought you weren’t going to say anything.”

“I’m not,” he insisted.

“Then why won’t you let it go?” I demanded. He scowled at me.

“If I’m going to be keeping this a secret for you, you can at least tell me why it has to be a secret. I told you I won’t say anything and I won’t, but I still don’t see why you don’t just tell her.”

“I don’t know how to explain it in a way you’ll understand,” I told him. “Can you just believe that I’m doing what’s best?” 

He thought about it for a while.

“Fine,” he agreed.

“Fine?” I asked, relieved, but surprised he wasn’t putting up more of a fight.

“Yeah. Fine. Because you have less than a year before Jenna turns 16. You know she’s going to find out then,” he said confidently. 

I hadn’t been letting myself think that far ahead. I wasn’t sure what to expect when her birthday came around again. Would she find my name somewhere on her body? Would she be happy or disappointed? Would she want to be with me or would she rather stay away and have a normal life? Would it even be my name she found?

“Maybe,” I said, humoring him for the moment. “But until then, this stays between us. Actually, this stays between us until I say otherwise,” I told him.

"Fine," he agreed. He wasn't happy about it, but he felt secure in the knowledge that he had less than a year before it would no longer be a secret. I both hoped he was wrong and hoped he was right. "Jerk," he added a little frustratedly. 

I just smirked at him. 

"Bitch."

Ages 15 and 16 September 13, 1995

I was sitting at the table in the Winchester’s motel room with John and my dad, discussing the case they were working on. Sam was in our motel room studying for a big test and Dean was just getting back from his afternoon out with the sister of the latest victim, trying to get more information. 

“Hopefully Dean learned something useful so we can go in more prepared,” John was saying as we all heard the familiar rumble of the Impala’s engine. He had come up with a plan to catch the monster, but though we had theories, we still weren’t 100% sure what it was. 

When the two of them had caught wind of this case, finding a newspaper article about a 14 year old girl who had gone missing – the third missing girl in this Colorado town this month – they’d immediately packed us up. The latest girl’s body hadn’t been found at the time, but the previous two were found a few days after their disappearances, covered in deep cuts, bodies drained of blood and dumped in rarely used alleyways. The girl from the newspaper article was found a day after we got to town.

My dad and John were able to find out almost immediately that the girl had an older sister and instructed Dean to start trying to get close to her. They figured the teenage girl might spill a little more information – especially when a mysterious new boy with a handsome face and charming smile was asking the questions – than her parents would. 

“Well?” John asked as soon as Dean had the door closed behind him.

“Sorry, I’ve got nothing,” Dean admitted disappointedly. “She didn’t say anything different than what everyone else has been saying. And she was more than happy to answer my questions so I don’t think she was hiding anything. Maybe I just didn’t ask the right questions.”

“Alright. Don’t be too hard on yourself. We knew she might not know anything. I’m sure you did just fine,” my dad reassured Dean.

“Maybe. I’ll try to figure out if there’s anything else I can ask her that might give us something useful,” Dean said.

“No need. Jenna, why don’t you go get ready to head to the library,” John said. I stood up to follow his instructions and he turned to the array of weapons on the table.

“The library?” Dean asked. “You guys are doing research? We don’t even have enough information to go off of to know where to start.”

“Don’t we?” John countered, already irritated. I froze where I was. He never handled it well when Dean questioned him, no matter how innocently. He always expected instant compliance, a “Yes, sir!” kind of attitude. 

“Ok, well I’ll come with then,” Dean replied.

“No you won’t. You’ll stay here with your brother,” John told him.

“Why? What’s the point in me sitting in a motel room when I could be with you guys doing something useful?” He argued. “The more people we have looking, the more information we can get through.”

“We don’t need more people. Jenna’s going alone.” John told him, the “end of discussion” clear in his voice.

“What?” Dean spit out through clenched teeth. I looked at him and saw him looking disbelievingly between the two men. 

“You heard me,” John said, daring his son to question his decision. “We made a plan while you were out.”

“While I was out?” Dean said incredulously. “You mean while I was working the case? While I was doing what you told me to, you ‘made a plan’ to send Jenna out by herself?” 

I’d never seen him argue like this with his father. With jerks at school, sure. With me and Sam, occasionally. But with John? I’d never seen him truly question his father, and I was worried where this might be headed and how ugly it might get.

“Yes, we did,” John said. “And the plan isn’t going to change just because we don’t have all the information.”

“Did the three of you somehow forget that this… this thing is taking teenage girls? Did you forget that all three of the girls he took had dark brown hair, pretty much exactly the same color as Jenna’s? What about the fact that he’s taking these girls from the library? That he only goes after them when they’re alone? Tell me how this isn’t enough information to know that sending her in is a terrible plan!”

“We’re not discussing this any further Dean,” John said with finality, moving to usher me from the room. Dean stepped between us, back to me, breath heaving. 

“You can’t use her as bait!” he yelled. He ran his hands through his hair, a sure sign that he was beyond stressed. I set my hand on his shoulder, wanting to comfort him. He took one quick look at me, his eyes wild, before he turned to look at my dad. 

“Ben, how could you be ok with this?” He asked.

“I don’t like the idea either,” my dad said as he looked at me.

“So why-” Dean started.

“Because it’s the only plan I can see that catches this thing before another innocent girl is taken,” he said firmly.

“Jenna is an innocent girl,” Dean said.

“But not an ignorant one,” John countered. “She knows what she’s getting into. We have no leads on this thing other than it being in the library. It’s managed to avoid all security cameras so we don’t have any idea what it looks like. We don’t even know if it managed to sneak around so well because it works there or if it was just that careful about scouting out the place ahead of time.”

“Exactly! That’s why you can’t just let this thing take her, Dad! How bad do you think it’ll hurt her before we manage to find her? Who says we even find her on time? You can’t do it.”

John stiffened.

“Excuse me? I can’t do it? You’re giving me orders now?” he asked in a dangerously quiet voice. Dean squared his shoulders and lifted his chin.

“You heard me,” he said, repeating his dad’s earlier words. “You can’t. I won’t let you.”

Sensing that the situation was about to escalate to a point of no return, my dad stepped in.

“We’re not going to let it take her, Dean. Of course not. We’ll be there, waiting for it to try and grab her. And when it does, we’ll be ready.”

“You’ll be ready?” Dean said with an edge to his voice, never taking his eyes off of John. “You don’t know what the thing even is. How can you be ready?”

“We’re bringing everything. Whatever it ends up being, we’ll have what we need to kill it. I’m not going to risk my only daughter,” Dad said, trying to reason with him.

After a few tense seconds of silence, Dean finally turned to me.

“And you?” he asked. “You’ve been awfully quiet through this whole thing. Are you ok with this? They can’t make you if you don’t want to.”

“Dean,” I started, trying to decide the words to say that would calm him down, ease his nerves. “I’m ok with it,” I finally decided on. There was nothing more I could really say.

“You’re ok with it? You’re fine with being bait? Jenna, I know you. You try to hide it, but I can see how scared you are every time you come on a hunt. You’re telling me you’re not scared now?”

“No,” I said, and was surprised to realize I meant it.

“No?” He questioned disbelievingly.

“No,” I repeated. “Because I know you’ll be there,” I told him confidently, looking at John to see if he would contradict me and insist Dean stay behind. That’s what the plan had been originally, both John and my dad thinking he wouldn’t be able to handle it. When he just shook his head – not in denial but in irritated acquiescence – I continued. “Because I trust you. Because I’ve never had to worry about not being safe when you’re around. Because I know you would die before you would let anything happen to me.”

He looked at me for a few moments, processing the words I’d spoken with such conviction.

“You’re sure?” He asked one more time.

“I’m sure,” I told him. He nodded, resigned to the plan if not happy about it.

“Alright,” was all he said.

“Great,” John said sourly. “Now that that’s settled, we’ve got a job to finish. Get moving.”

~~~~~

An hour later I sat at a table in the most secluded corner of the library I could find. My biology textbook was laying open in front of me and the rest of the table was scattered with my notes and some old assignment sheets. We’d only been at this school for a few days, but I tried to carry all my notes from previous schools. It wasn’t uncommon to cover the same topic multiple times with all of the school-hopping we did.

Dean, John, and my dad were hiding behind one of the big bookcases behind me, waiting. I was actually doing homework, partly to keep myself calm and pass the time, partly because it’s what the monster would be expecting.

We were covering the digestive system currently and the teacher had assigned the class an essay taking her through the full digestive process from the perspective of the food that was being digested. It was definitely one of the weirdest assignments I’d ever been given. Unfortunately, I let myself concentrate a little too hard on my work, not paying attention to my surroundings the way I should have been.

“Excuse me,” a voice said to my right, causing me to jump a little in my seat. He was a man, probably in his 40s, wearing a little name tag identifying him as Trevor. “Sorry to startle you. I’m just letting you know the library will be closing soon, so if you could please finish up, that would be great.”

“Yes, of course,” I said, a little flustered. I couldn’t believe I’d been so careless. I started packing up my stuff, already mentally preparing myself for having to come back here tomorrow to try again, when I realized the man wasn’t leaving. Tense now, I looked at him. “Was there something else?” I asked.

“Actually, now that you mention it.” He pulled a syringe out of his pocket and grabbed me, moving the needle towards my arm. He was quick, but I was quicker, reflexively swatting the incoming hand away with the arm he wasn’t holding in place, knocking the syringe out of his grasp and onto the floor where it rolled away. 

“You little bitch,” he spat as he caught the fist I threw at his face. “Hard way it is then. You’re going to regret that. I enjoy a fight.”

I threw my knee straight up towards his crotch and he dropped one of my arms to block it. In blocking this attack, just as I’d anticipated, he’d dropped his head down to see. I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him closer as I rammed the top of my head as hard as I could into his nose. 

Momentarily stunned, he let me go and I ran in the other direction, wondering where the guys were. I meant it when I said I trusted Dean with my life. I obviously trusted my dad just as much and John too. But that didn’t mean something hadn’t happened to them. Trevor took only a second to recover before he lunged forward and grabbed me. He wrestled my hands behind my back and started to force me towards the back exit but he was stopped by my dad stepping out in front of him, gun pointed at his face. 

“Let her go,” he commanded.

“How cute,” Trevor said. “I suppose you guys figured you’d set an easy trap for me in what I can only guess is some misguided revenge attempt. I’m afraid you’ve underestimated your opponent though. Those bullets won’t kill me. So now you both die.”

“I suggest you listen to the man,” John said from behind and slightly to the left of us. He also had a gun trained on the man. And then I understood. They’d taken so long to intervene because they were getting into position, sneaking around behind the bookshelves to surround us. I knew where Dean would be, behind and slightly to the right, but I didn’t look. Didn’t let this monster know we had a fourth person on our side.

“I don’t think so. Like I said,” Trevor said, still unconcerned about his odds, “It’ll take more than a bullet to kill me.”

“You mean because you’re a shapeshifter?” John asked as if he were having a casual conversation. “That’s why all three of our guns are loaded with silver bullets.”

That’s when I heard the gun cocking directly beside me. John had been the distraction, the way to get Trevor to turn his back so that Dean could get close.

“You’ve got one more chance to let her go,” Dean warned, gun pressed up directly against the man’s head.

“And why would I do that? I let her go and you kill me.” He breathed out, afraid now that he understood the guns were a very real threat to his life.

“If you don’t let her go, if you hurt her in any way, you can be sure that you’ll be wishing for death by the time we’re done,” Dad said. Dean grunted his agreement.

I could feel the hands on my wrists minutely tightening and loosening as he made a decision. The next thing I knew I was being shoved into Dean and the monster – shapeshifter, apparently– bolted for the door.

Dean and I fell in a heap on the floor, him flat on his back, me on his chest. I heard a gunshot, only one, and knew it was over. I didn’t know which of our dads had been the one to fire the shot. 

I took a deep breath, letting Dean pull me into a seated position and hold me against his chest while murmuring into my hair, “Don’t you ever do that to me again. I don’t think I can handle it.”

I didn’t respond. He knew I would do it again if it was ever needed the same way he would always offer himself up for the sake of others. I just listened to the sound of his elevated heartbeat and let myself enjoy the feeling of being held by him.

“How did you know it was a shapeshifter?” I asked once Dean had let me go.

“The real guy is dead behind one of the bookshelves,” John answered. “We knew what he was the second he came over to talk to you. Now let’s get this cleaned up and get out of here.”

I mentally rolled my eyes at his order, but I knew he was right. The real Trevor’s body would be left for the police to find. We needed to take care of the shapeshifter though. 

We drove to an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town. It was mostly empty inside and everything was made of concrete or metal. It was the closest and safest place we could find to burn a body.

Once it was taken care of, we piled back into John’s truck and drove back to the motel.

Ages 15 and 17 March 18, 1996

“Jenna!” I heard Dean call from down the hall as he stalked towards me. He sounded annoyed. I knew how it looked, Tony casually leaning next to me, arm braced against the lockers. The halls were mostly empty as everyone went home for the day. I knew I had a big smile on my face too, knew the conclusion Dean had undoubtedly come to, but I wasn’t in the mood to deal with him playing overprotective big brother. Rolling my eyes, I turned to face him as he stopped within inches of me.

“What’s up, Dean?” I asked calmly. I didn’t fail to notice the way he angled his body slightly between the two of us.

“I was going to ask the same thing,” he answered. “I thought you were going to meet me and Sam outside.”

“I was. I am.” I corrected myself. “Tony was just telling me about all the horses his family owns and he said I could come over and ride if I want.” I told him, getting excited again. I looked at Tony who looked slightly nervous. He was a fairly attractive, semi popular guy. A sophomore, like me, he was still growing into his long legs and widening shoulders.

“You really think your dad is going to let you go to some guy’s house?” Dean scoffed.

“Why not?” I answered defensively. “You and Sam go to your friends’ houses all the time.” I noticed Tony wince a little and pushed Dean away, only able to do so because I took him by surprise. He still only backed away a single step.

“That’s because our dad doesn’t care what we do and you know it. Your dad is way more protective,” he countered. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before he lets you do something as stupid as go to the home of some random boy by yourself.”

“You mean before you let me go,” I retorted. “Well news flash Dean, you don’t get to decide what I can and can’t do. And what do you mean ‘stupid’? I want to go ride horses with a friend, not bungee jumping off a cliff above a shallow lake.”

“You’ve never ridden a horse before, Jenna! What if something goes wrong? You could fall off and hurt yourself!” 

I was surprised he wasn’t backing down. He never used to have these kinds of arguments in public. He’d always been protective, but for the past year he’d been even worse. While deep down I appreciated his concern, right now I was just irritated. 

“I have to drop my stuff off and let my dad know what’s going on, but I’ll try to be there by four if that works for you.” I told Tony, ignoring Dean for the moment.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Tony said warily. “Whenever works for you. And if you don’t come, I’ll just assume your dad said no.” He told me, eyeing Dean before making a hasty escape. I huffed and turned to punch Dean in the shoulder.

“Really?! Why do you have to do this to me? You know how much I love horses! Why can’t you stop scaring away everyone I make friends with?!” I ranted. Dean just started walking for the door.

“I don’t scare away all of your friends. Only the jerks that are making moves on you. I mean, really Jenna? You think all he wants is to show you a few horses?” He mocked. He held the door open for me and, choosing to ignore his jab, I made a beeline for Sam, who had started walking once he saw us come out. Sighing, he closed the door and jogged a couple steps to catch up to me.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing my shoulder and turning me to face him. “I’m not trying to ruin your life, you know. I’m just trying to protect you.”

“Well maybe I don’t need you to protect me! Did you think of that? I’m not an idiot, I know he’s hoping for more, but I also know he’ll back off if I tell him to. And even if he didn’t, don’t you think I can handle one teenage boy? My dad doesn’t have me train for nothing.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” I asked him, exasperated.

I watched as he physically reigned in the automatic response that wanted to shoot past his lips. He worked his jaw back and forth and took a breath as he thought of the best way to say it.

“Guys suck. Ok? And I can say that with absolute certainty seeing as I am one.”

“Dean-” I tried to interject.

“No, let me finish. I just don’t want to see you get involved with some guy who's only going to end up hurting you.”

I waited to make sure he was finished before answering.

“Yeah, but did you miss the part where I said I wasn’t interested?” How could I be? There wasn’t a boy in the world who stood a chance of gaining my attention when the most perfect one was already in my life, completely oblivious to how thoroughly he had ruined the chances of me ever being interested in anyone else. Of course I couldn’t tell him this, so there was no real way to assure him that I was telling the truth. “Zero chance of me being hurt. I promise.”

“Maybe,” he said, clearly not sure if he believed me or not. “You could still fall off a horse though. I’m sure that would hurt.”

“Because the risk of falling off a horse is so much greater than getting hurt on a hunt?” I asked pointedly.

“Okay. You’re right,” he sighed after a moment of deciding whether or not to argue. “I’m sorry. You still have to get your dad to agree to it though,” he pointed out. I groaned and squared my shoulders, readying myself for the upcoming argument.

~~~~~

I was practically vibrating with excitement as Dean pulled into the driveway of Tony’s home. It had been one of Dad’s conditions, that Dean drove me. I could see several horses already and knew I’d be on one of them soon.

“Thanks Dean!” I said as I moved to get out of the car.

“Just a second,” he said, putting a hand on my knee to stop me. I paused with my hand on the handle and turned to him. “Just… promise you’ll be careful.” He finally got out. My heart stuttered a little like it always did when he worried. I knew it was only a brotherly concern no matter how much I might wish it was more.

“I will.” I told him with a soft smile. Then I jumped out of the car and headed towards where I saw Tony at the barn.

Chapter 3

[itsmaddienotmaddy]

Okay my ass passed tf out post game. But I just woke up again and can’t NOT put my lukewarm takes on the Internet.

USWNT v SWEDEN

Alyssa - did what she could? I’m sure she expected plenty of shots on goal because Sweden has proven to always be a solid opponent but I don’t think she was ready to be called upon all game. But there wasn’t a time where I was like ‘dang, maybe if Alyssa was a better keeper, we wouldn’t be down’. She was fine.

Becky - I find her hard pressed to say anyone did well, but all things considered, Becky was okay. She was carrying the ball forward more than usual, seemingly holding onto it a bit too long sometimes. But no one was really open for her, so what tf was she supposed to do.

Crystal - thank sweet baby Jesus for her recovery runs and slide tackles. I would not like to know what a score line would be without them. She unfortunately was super overloaded which caused a lot of uncharacteristic giveaway passes in dangerous spots. To her credit, she showed a lot of creativity breaking out of the three players that seemed to close in on her. But our midfield and forwards really hung her out to dry not offering outlets for her to pass to.

Abby - this was a tough game for Abby. She was getting caught on the outside shoulder instead of covering inside and allowed the center backs to be split on numerous occasions. She did have a few of her typical nice diagonal long balls. But really seemed frantic and was beat to the ball in the box on the goals.

Kelley - in the same camp as Becky. Of nothing detrimental. But nothing incredible. She wasn’t given the same amount of pressure as Crystal which made things better. But her passes could have been cleaner, crosses could have been more direct.

Tierna - things were pretty dismal by the time she came in. She did decent for the time left though. Not sure it would have helped anything but her height definitely could have beneficial to us as a center back earlier in the game.

Lindsey - not her day as the 6. She managed it well through the summer series and send off games, but Sweden is so different than the teams they played. She got lost. She was so needed to be Crystals outlet and to be that person that helped move the ball from side to side to break Sweden down. She was almost timid, it was weird. She started doing a bit better when she was back in her normal position. But the team was already back on their heels at that point so it didn’t help.

Rose - well god dammit. Rose was out there trying! It wasn’t working, but you could tell that she was not having it and was trying to make something happen. She was key in the passing combos the US managed to string together. Most glimmers of good came with her involvement. She still fell victim to holding the ball too long and passing directly to Sweden but I did appreciate her effort!

Sam - oh goodness, poor Sammy Bananas. This was not her game. She seemed like she was hiding behind Swedish players. She wasn’t open for anyone to pass to. And when she had the ball, more often than not, she was passing it to Sweden. It was hard to watch after she’s been playing so well. I will give a small positive that on a couple plays, she found her stride and did what she does best, driving the ball up centrally, pulling defenders, and passing out wide for a cross in. She needed off at half though, glad Vlatko pulled her.

Julie - well shit balls I really wish she was 100%. Her being in wasn’t a game changer. I mean, duh they still scored twice in the second half. But there were moments I was like, oh yeah. That’s what it’s like to have Julie Ertz playing the 6. That’s nice. She is far from full game fit though, and you could tell she’s nervous going 150% into hard tackles. And with being out for all the buildup games, her chemistry with everyone is a little off.

Kristie - she wasn’t in long. But she’s was running her butt off. Like Tierna, it’s not like she could do much to help. She didn’t do anything to hurt though. Her energy was good to see, who knows if her coming in earlier could have sparked something. (Probably not but it’s fun to dream)

Alex - welp. She was in there. Few decent runs into the box. Was there for the header off Christen’s beautiful first half cross. But very lost, not connecting, I had no issue with. Vlatko pulling her at half for Carli.

Tobin - after the excitement of her return in the Mexico games, it sucked to see her like this. To her credit, she was all over the damn pitch trying to make things happen. But in doing so, was out of position which didn’t make switching the field easier. Sweden had to time for her foot skills and just bodied her off of things. She had some of our most promising offensive plays though. And history has proven that pissing Tobin off means she is going to pop off. Waiting for that!

Christen - the goal post is not her friend. So rude. She also gave us some of our closest goal opportunities. But dang. She needed to be helping Crystal on defense big time. And she needed to provide a better outlet pass and not just the option of a ball over the top. I honestly forgot she was out there sometimes which was uncharacteristic.

Carli - I was actually happy to see her come in. But she couldn’t break the funk the team was in. I’m sure a game like this will make her work harder, so maybe that’s good. I don’t know.

Pinoe - came in with a little spark. She was a positive sub. But we were such a mess at that point it didn’t do much. I wish she was full ninety fit, we needed her chaos.

All in all. We all watched the mess. We know. They were outplayed. Sweden is fucking GOOD. We just played them, it wasn’t a surprise. At least, it shouldn’t have been. Maybe it’s the Sweden Olympic curse. Maybe it’s because the USWNT has been go go go all year and has run themselves a little ragged with the camps and friendlies along with NWSL. Doesn’t matter. They knew the Olympics were coming. They weren’t good enough and I hope they turn it around.

Hopefully next game we can remember what jerseys we’re wearing so we can pass to the right team and everyone gets a good night sleep so we can LOOK ALIVE OUT THERE.

[fictionalabyss]

Mated : You were dead.

Pairings : Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader (mentioned), Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Sam

Word count : 2,834

Written for : @spnabobingo​

Square : Multiple Alpha claims

Warning : Angst ahead! a/b/o dynamics, character death talked about, depression, sickness mentioned,  guilt, pissed Dean, defensive Sam, brothers be brothers.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

The final part of Mated.

SPN A/B/O Bingo Round 5 Masterlist.

The knock on your door had been unexpected, but not as unexpected as what you found waiting on the other side.

Sam. You hadn't seen him in months, but while him being there surprised you, it wasn't what made you step back in shock. It was the man standing a half step closer than he was. The man smiling at you with so much love and adoration. "Hey, baby."

"Dean?" You wanted to run. Run towards him, run away. He couldn't be real, he couldn't be here he was DEAD. He was dead, for months. This had to be a trick, a monster, or… you looked to Sam who just gave you a nod and tilted his head to his brother. His way of assuring you it was Dean.

As soon as his arms opened to you, you ran to them, throwing yourself at him and he chuckled as he caught you. You latched on, holding him tight, terrified if you let go he'd vanish, and you cried against him. The feel of him against you again, the way your body reacted to him, you thought it was lost to you forever.  "It's okay, baby. I'm home. I'm not going anywhere ever again. I’m home.” As you cried against him, Dean ducked his face into you, his nose brushing across the mark he’d left on your skin long ago, and he breathed in deep.

The action had your eyes opening and from over his shoulder seeing Sam, who stood quiet and patiently behind him. Sam’s eyes met yours, but whatever he was feeling, he kept it hidden away. You let your eyes fall shut again and tucked your nose into Dean before bringing your feet back to the ground and removing yourself from his grasp.

“You smell a little different. I wasn’t gone that long, was I?” he teased as he started past you and into the house. You swallowed. “What?”

“You were dead.” you whispered, closing the door after Sam headed in and towards the kitchen.

“Yeah I know.” Dean watched you for a minute as you heard cupboards open then close. “Wait… You meet someone else?”

“You were dead.” tears filled your eyes all over again, and you saw how his jaw ticked.

“I came back.” he snapped. “I came back to you!” he pointed at you as he stepped closer. “Who is he?” he growled. “Another fuckin’ Alpha?”

You were biting your bottom lip and looking down. He yanked at the collar of your shirt, giving him a good look at his mark still intact, and that made him furrow his brow until he saw how you tried to hide the other side of your neck from him. He wasn’t harsh, just.. forceful as he exposed the other side and took in another mark.

“You were dead.” you cried, afraid to look up at him.

“Barely in the grave by the looks of the claim.” he snapped, moving away from you with a look of disgust. “Who the fuck is he? I don’t fucking smell another alpha here. Just me and-” He stopped when he noticed you were looking past him. Dean turned and saw Sam at the end of the hall, glass of amber liquid in his hand as he watched the two of you. “You?” Dean snarled.

“Dean-” Sam started, putting his hands up, but Dean was quick to rush forward, grabbing his brother’s collar and slamming his back to the wall. The glass fell from his hand, spilling whiskey across the runner as the glass rolled to a stop about a foot from where it dropped.

“You fucking claimed her!?”

You rushed forward, trying to pull him off his brother. “Dean, stop!”

“What’d you do, Sammy? Tell her I was dead and take her in the next breath?” Sam didn’t answer, just looked at his brother with an equally hard look.

“Dean stop!” When pulling at him didn’t help, you tried to work your way between them, tried to push him off. Your heart was being pulled apart, wanting to protect Sam, but also Dean. You needed him to stop, needed him to understand. “It’s not his fault, Dean! Please!”

His hard glare was now on you as you stood between them, a few inches of space between you and either brother, but you stood your ground despite the look he gave you. “So, what? You went to him?”

“It’s not-”

Dean cut you off with a scoff. “Of course you did. You always wanted him.” he gestured to Sam, a cutting glare sent his way with the motion of his hand. “What the fuck was I? Just a bed warmer until-”

“You were dead!” you shoved at his chest. “You were fucking dead! You were all I had and you were dead!”

“Clearly not all you had. You had Sam.” he spat, and you flinched.

“No, I didn’t. Sam left. He told me you died, didn’t tell me where or how or- and then he fucking left. You were dead, Dean. I didn’t have a service or grave where I could go, I didn’t have a body to cry over I just.. I was alone. I-”

“She was dying.” Sam piped up from behind you when it was obvious that you couldn’t talk through the tears anymore. “I got a message one day, she’s crying. Only reason I came was because she said-”

“Funkytown.” you whispered. “You told me if anything happened, if anything went wrong, call Sam and say Funkytown. I did..” you shoulders were shaking with how hard you cried. “I did. I did what you told me to do.”

“What the fuck do you mean she was dying?” Dean demanded

“When I got here, you could smell it. Whole fucking house reeked of it.” When Sam put a comforting hand on your shoulder, Dean's lip curled up with a low growl, but Sam’s hand didn’t move. “I got her cleaned up, got her in a clean bed, called in a doctor.” Dean looked down at you, but you were looking down as you cried. “He said she had 48 hours at best.”

“For what? What was wrong?”

“To find a mate.” you whispered. “Heat was so bad. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t get out of bed, hadn’t eaten for days..”

“So you make her fucking eat. You take care of her.”

“I did.” Sam pointed out, fingers going from your shoulder to trace over the claiming mark he’d left on you. “Doctor said she needed a mate for her best chance of survival. So I gave her one.”

“I’m sorry.” you cried. “I’m sorry I wasn't strong enough.”

“Then why the fuck were you with some other bitch in a motel room?” Dean's tone was hard and threatening. “You have a mate at home, my fucking mate at home, and you go off to fuck someone else?”

“Because I’m not you.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“She didn’t fucking want me, Dean! She begged me to let her die, then she begged me to save her. And afterwards? She cried. She turned away from me and she fucking cried and I could see the guilt eating at her because I’m not you. So as soon as I knew she was well enough, I left. Why the fuck would I stay?”

Deans hand shot over your shoulder grabbing at Sam’s collar again and slamming his back against the wall once more, sandwiching you tighter between them. “Because you fucking claimed her!” Dean screamed at him. “You’re her alpha you piece of shit! You stay and take care of her!”

“Dean-” you tried to push him back, but you couldn’t, you weren’t strong enough.

“I told you! I told you to fucking take care of her and you left her! Twice! What the fuck, Sam!”

“Stop! Please!”

“You don’t fucking deserve her.” Dean spat. “You never did. You treated her like shit in college, you treated her like shit when you found out I knew her, and you treated her like shit after I died. I thought you had grown up, I thought I could fucking trust you. I thought she meant something to you.”

“She does! Do you think I’d fucking claim her if she didn’t!?” Sam snapped back, getting in Deans face just as much as his brother was getting in his. “I love her!”  Your head snapped to look up at him over your shoulder in surprise. “Dying or not, Dean, if she didn’t fucking mean something to me I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Then why’d you go?” you whispered. “Why’d I wake up to you gone?”

“Like I said, I’m not Dean.” He pushed Dean away from him before slipping out from behind you and walking out.

You stood there, stunned and unsure what to do. A part of you wanted to run to Sam, hold him, soothe him, tell him it would be okay. But the other part? The other part had Dean back. It wanted to be in his arms and to never let him go again. “I don’t.. I don’t know what to do..” Dean was running a hand through his hair, teeth biting into his bottom lip with anger as he paced in the hall.

“Go to your mate.” Dean answered, not bothering to look over at you.

“Which one?” That made him turn. “The one I couldn’t live without, that I finally have back? Or the one who refused to let me die? Who do I comfort, Dean? Who do I hold and promise that everything will be okay? Because right now, my heart is being ripped in two and it hurts so fucking bad.”

Dean just shook his head, a slight roll to his eyes as he turned away. He needed to get his thoughts together, he needed to to process what the fuck was happening. He’d been so happy to come back home to you, and now he felt like he didn’t have that home anymore. Like Sam had snatched it out from under him.

“Maybe he should have just let me die.” Dean spun around, eyes wide. “If I was dead, I wouldn’t have disappointed you and you wouldn’t be fighting with your brother.” You turned and quietly walked away, Dean watching you go.

Dean stared at the space long after you were gone, and then he looked over to the front door Sam and stormed out of, then down to the glass still laying on it’s side on the carpet. As pissed as he was, as much as he wanted to tear his brother apart for touching his mate, Dean only had two important people left in his life. He had to somehow live with what had been done.

With a sigh, Dean started for the door first and was surprised to see Sam just sitting on the curb outside. “Here to punch my teeth in? Cuz I won’t let you do it easy, Dean.”

“No.” Dean answered, dropping to sit next to his brother. “Here to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not letting her die.” Dean’s head fell forward and he looked down at the ground. His hands were clasped, forearms on his knees and he shifted his hands a few times before he spoke again. “I’m pissed, Sam. I’m pissed you claimed her, she was mine. But I can’t be mad at you for saving her. There was no other way?” he looked to Sam who shook his head.

“No. I wasn’t even sure that would work. But I had to try.”

Dean nodded and looked down again. “What do we do here, Sammy?”

“She wants you.” Sam licked his lips and looked out across the street. “So it goes back to the way it was.”

“Can it, though? She’s your omega, Sam. I wanted to rip your throat out for touching her. You telling me you won’t feel the same?”

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Sam looked to his brother again, the two of them watching each other for a minute.

“There’s a choice.”

“She doesn’t want me, Dean.”

“She does.” Dean nodded, looking away from his brother, part of him hated that he was about to admit this. It could be the end for him. “She wanted to chase after  you, comfort you and tell you everything would be okay.”

“But she didn’t.”

“Because she doesn’t want to hurt me. She’s being pulled two ways, Sammy. I hate that it’s hurting her, I hate that I’m hurting her.” Dean was quiet for a moment. “She-” Sam watched him, waiting. Dean licked his lips, tilted his head and sighed. “She said maybe you shouldn’t have saved her.”

“What?”

“That if she was dead we wouldn’t be fighting.”

“We’re brothers. Brothers fight.”

“Mhm.” Dean nodded. “She thinks she disappointed me.”

“I told you the guilt was eating at her.” Sam mumbled. “I couldn’t stand seeing that look in her eyes.”

“So what do we do, Sammy? Me and you, I mean. Can we get past this?”

“I don’t know, Dean. Can we?”

There was a knock on your door, but you didn’t say anything. You sat on the floor, back against your bed, knees tucked into your chest as you cried. The door gently opened, and soon someone was walking in. “I’m sorry.” You knew who it was before he even sat on the floor in front of you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Dean reached out and pulled you against this chest. “It’s going to be okay.” he soothed.

“How can it? You’re brothers, and I-”

“You lived.” he cut you off, a hand rubbing up and down your back. “You did what it took to live. I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re disappointed. I wasn’t strong enough.”

“I’m not. I promise, I’m not. I’m sorry, okay.” he pulled back just enough to get you to look up at him. “I’m sorry, too. I reacted badly, it was just a lot to take in. I was so fucking happy to be getting back home to you.” he smiled softly at you. “You were right, I was dead. I shouldn’t have held that against you. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know what to do.” a fresh round of tears stung at your eyes, and when one fell, Dean wiped it away with his thumb.

“We’ll figure it out.” Dean promised.

“The three of us.” You turned your head to look to the door and found Sam standing and leaning on the frame. “And you’re right. I do kind of want to rip your throat out for touching her. But just a little.” he teased with a smile.

“I don’t.. I don’t understand.” you looked to Dean again.

“I’m not letting you go.” Dean promised. “You’re my mate and I’m never letting you go. But you’re his, too. We’ll figure out a way to make it work.”

You looked back to Sam who gave you a shrug. “It’ll take some time to figure out, but.. It’s not impossible. You aren’t the first Omega to have multiple claims.”

“We had a little chat before I came up.” Dean leaned his forehead against your temple and breathed you in. “I missed you.” he whispered out with his breath. “If I need to accept Sam to keep you, I’ll do it. I’d do anything.”

You nodded with a soft smile before addressing Sam again. “What about the girl you were with?” you asked, hoping he didn’t hear the bite in the words. The truth was, even with him having abandoned you more than once, the mere idea of him with another woman made you want to rip someone apart, he was your mate, your alpha.

“No one important.” Sam brushed it off. “I’ll let her down easy.”

Something in you told you there was more to it, much more to it, but Sam wasn’t saying anything else. “What do we do now, then?”

“How about dinner? I’m fucking starving.” Dean chuckled. “Then,” he whispered into your ear, “I’m going to eat you.”

Sam growled at that, and Dean’s eyes shot to his brother, both of them glaring daggers at each other. “Guys, come on.” you groaned, pulling yourself from Dean’s lap and standing. Dean was quick to follow, putting you once again stuck between the brothers and their anger. “How about Dean gets me while I get Sam. Then we switch.”

“Deal.” Sam answered, eyes still watching his brother, waiting for his answer.

“Only if I get two rounds.”

“Dean!” You shot him a look of disbelief. You were trying to keep them from killing each other and he seemed to be going out of his way to provoke Sam.

“What!? I was dead! Don’t I deserve a little extra love?” he pouted. And at that exact moment, you discovered where Sam had learned that puppy dog look he always used to get his way back in college. You rolled your eyes and his pout turned into a shit eating grin.

*If you like this, please consider supporting my work*

Tagging :  Mated -  @vicmc624​

Dean - @akshi8278​  @adoptdontshoppets​   @evyiione​ @karikatz12481​ @idksupernatural​  @deandreamernp​

Sam -  @evyiione​  @hoboal87​

SPN -  @sandlee44  @just-another-busy-fangirl  @mrswhozeewhatsis   @deanandsamsbitch  @deans-baby-momma  @thebescht @67-chevy-baby @supraveng   @musiclovinchic93 @holyfuckloueh  @ksgeekgirl   @hobby27 @maddiepants  @roxyspearing @onethirstyunicorn​    @fandom-princess-forevermore     @kalesrebellion   @deanwanddamons​   @thoughts-and-funnies

All tags - @sorenmarie87 @artemisthebadger @winchesterprincessbride @iflostreturntosteverogers @akfonkin @rebelminxy @foxyjwls007 @onethirstyunicorn @shaelyn102 @supernaturalenchanted  @kazkingdom   @babypink224221  @emoryhemsworth    @ilovefanfic86  @pie-with-hunters   @anaelsbrunette​ @lazinessisalliknow  @feelmyroarrrr​  @letsdisneythings​   @cdwmtjb8​   @notyourtypicalrose​  @xostephanie​ @ilovedeanspie​ @defenderrosetyler​ @amandamdiehl​

[its-monster-mash]

Paul(The Lost Boys) X Michael’s Ex!Fem!Reader Imagine(Part 1)

Content Warnings: Vaguely Love-Triangley? (Reader and Michael are still good friends and broke up a while before Mike moved, but things are a little awkward because they were each other’s first serious relationship; so he’s more protective than he needs to be, and there might be a few hurt feelings, but I wouldn’t quite call it a love triangle), Brief Sexual Harassment

Part 2

This turned out SUPER long so I’m putting it under a readmore; also I think I’m going to make it a series because I want to go a lot further with this but I suspect I’m going to run out of space soon

• Michael Emerson had been your best friend since you were kids, growing up in Phoenix only a ten minute walk from eachother...if you knew the right shortcuts. You knew all of them, thought you knew everything when you were younger, and you got yourself and Mike into a fair amount of trouble because of it...but he had always been a good kid, and was able to temper your more destructive elements.

• It surprised exactly no one when the two of you eventually started dating, nor did it surprise them when you broke up a few years later. You had always been inseparable, and the love had always been there, but over time you just couldn’t help but feel stifled. You had spent your entire teen years with him, and so many people liked to joke that Mike tamed you...at the rate you were going it seemed like sundresses, picket fences, and a couple of kids weren’t far off in your future...and that scared you.

• Mike was heartbroken when you left him, and for the first few weeks he absolutely held it against you, but due to your shared friends and history your friendship survived. Unfortunately, his parents’ divorce separated your iconic duo once again.

• When Mike’s dad showed up on your doorstep a few days after the move, you tore him a new one for basically abandoning his sons. He set a box on your porch, Mike’s Tools...his Grandpa gave them to him when he was just a little kid and they were one of his most treasured possessions...they were forgotten in the chaos of the move...His dad thought you might visit him sometime...

• That’s what led to you hopping in your shitass El Camino and making the drive to Santa Carla. Lucy had given you their new address before they left...you knew she hoped that maybe you and Mike would get back together some day, but that just wasn’t in the cards. At the end of the day he was just too good, too normal, for you.

• Driving through Santa Carla, you can’t help but be drawn to the sheer...strangeness of it all. Looking at the people, you feel like you actually fit in here. You definitely plan on hanging around the town for a while.

• Mike isn’t home when you get to his Grandpa’s house, but his mom could not be happier to see you. It’s a bittersweet reunion for you; she had been more of a mother to you growing up than your own parents, but after breaking her son’s heart you just don’t feel like it‘s right for you to call her “Mom” like you used to. She has a million questions, and she even suggests you stay with them for a while...you politely decline.

• You didn’t tell her that sleeping in your beat-up old car was preferable to her hospitality, but it would just be too weird, with how recent your breakup was. You and Mike are still friends, but you think sleeping under the same roof might be weird for him

• You still want to see him though, so you decide to explore the town on foot for a while; maybe run into him. You’re wandering around when you hear a familiar voice coming from the open door of a comic book store.

• As soon as you walk in you see the unmistakably garish patterns of Sammy Emerson’s signature style and break into a wide smile. “Long time no see, huh kid?” Almost the second he sees you he practically knocks you over with a hug, backing away in embarrassment after a second of thought. You and Mike were already best friends by the time he was born, so Sam was almost as much your little brother as he is Mike’s.

• “Now What was that about Vampires?” You had overheard Sam and the Frog brothers when you walked into the store...Sam rolls his eyes, and the Frogs assail you with some insane story about how the town is overrun with vampires. Some imaginations these kids have.

• You bail out of there pretty quick in favor of wandering the boardwalk, seeing what Santa Carla had to offer...before you know it, the sun is starting to set

• Maybe going out alone in “The Murder Capital of The World” wasn’t your smartest decision, but you weren’t exactly known for your self preservation; that had always been Mike’s job...but he isn’t here now.

• You grimace as you notice a group of surfers take notice of you. You had wandered a bit aways from the main crowd, so you aren’t sure anyone would notice if things went south... “Hey Sweetie.”

• “Get Bent.” You sneer as they close in on you. “Awe well that’s not very polite,” the leader says, giving your ass a firm squeeze. “You should try being a little nicer.”

• You humor him with the sweetest smile you can muster as you stomp as hard as you can on his foot. He calls you a bitch and you flinch as his fist flies toward you.

• You open your eyes when the hit never comes, and are shocked to see that someone had caught the guy’s fist. You look up at him and your cheeks flush; when was the last time you saw a guy this handsome? “This guy bothering you, babe?” He asks as he squeezes the guy’s fist so tight you hear something pop. The guy falls to his knees and gasps in pain as his friends back away nervously. You smile wickedly. “Not anymore.”

• You watch the douchbags storm away with their wounded pride, shouting empty threats, only distracted when your Knight in Shining Tight-Pants tucks your hair affectionately behind your ear. “So what’s a pretty thing like you doing alone in a town like this?”

• You bite your lip, eyeing him appreciatively; now that you could get a good look at him you can tell he is definitely your type...and you hadn’t been with anyone since you broke things off with Michael. “Hoping to run into an old friend, but I haven’t seen him.”

• He grins, clearly appreciating your look. “That’s too bad, wanna make some new friends?” His eyes are fixed on you with a certain hunger, there’s a palpable danger to him; it excites you.

• You shift your stance flirtatiously, leaning into him ever so slightly. “That depends, are they all as cute as you?” He pokes his tongue into his cheek with an amused grin. “Almost.”

• He takes your mischievous smirk as agreement, and throws an arm around you, leading you back to where his friends are gathered by their bikes. “This the chick you ditched us for?” The curly-headed blond asks, humor in his tone.

• “Well I for one am grateful for the timely rescue.” You grin. “How grateful?” The blond on the bike asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively; making you laugh. Your hero slaps at him playfully, and the favor is returned.

• Seemingly the leader of the group, the spiky-headed blond interrupts the roughhousing. “Paul, Marko, knock it off and let’s go.”

• Paul nods, climbing onto his bike and grinning at you seductively. “You wanna go for a ride, babe?”

• His smile is infectious, and his innuendo isn’t lost on you. Maybe it’s not your safest decision, but you climb on the back of his bike; earning a loud “HELL YES.” From him, and hooting and hollering from Marko.

• “Make sure you hold on tight babe, I’m about to take you on a ride you’ll never forget.” “Shut up and drive,” you tease as you wrap your arms tightly around his midsection.

• They all laugh deviously as they rev their motors to life, and you’re glad you’re holding on tight, nearly falling off when they take off from 0 to 100. “HOLY SHIT!” “What’s the matter sweetheart, can’t handle a little speed?”

• “That all you got?!” You ask, acting tough. It was a mistake though. “That all you got, Paul?” Marko asks, mocking you. “I dunno girl, I think that’s all he’s got.” The big brunette says, first time he’s spoken since you met the boys. “Fuck off, Dwayne!” Paul shouts. The leader gives his engine a rev, egging Paul on. You scream, forced to cling tightly to his back as his bike tears into the night. Marko pulls up next to you, mimicking you with a falsetto squeal.

• “Damn babe, already screaming for me,” Paul teases over the roar of his motor. You’d sass him back if you weren’t too busy burying your face in his back for dear life. You’d ridden on the back of Mike’s bike plenty of times before, but he was never this reckless. You’re as terrified as you are thrilled.

• By the time you start to get used to the speed, the boys are slowing down, and much to your surprise, they pull right up to Michael, who is standing with a girl you haven’t met. His eyes snap to you instantly and go wide with confusion, he hadn’t even been aware you’d come to town. “(Y/N)?”

• “This that friend you were looking for?” Paul asks. “Yeah, (Y/N), care to introduce us to Star’s new friend?” “David please.” You watch the exchange a bit uncomfortably, shifting on the bike, arms still around Paul. “Yeah...Hey Mike, I uh, your old man dropped your tools off at my place so I took them up to your mom.” Your chest feels impossibly tight. You aren’t jealous to see him with a new girl, but you had hoped that maybe he’d be a little happier to see you here...and him, the earring and that jacket...it doesn’t feel like Mike at all. Paul can feel you shrink against him.

• “Hope I’m not stepping on any toes here,” Paul says, giving your thigh an unsubtle squeeze; deliberately antagonizing Michael. You smile a bit awkwardly as Mike scratches the back of his head in discomfort. Star looks between the two of you, avoiding eye contact with David. “No, Mike and I used to date but...” “But it’s over,” Mike says, a bit too shortly, trying to cover the awkwardness with an unconvincing smile.

• David shoots him a not-all together-friendly look. “Well, you seem to be moving on well enough,” he says, gesturing to Star, who shrinks beside him. “So’s (Y/N),” Paul interjects, looking over his shoulder to smile at you. You smile back at him, despite the awkwardness.

• “We should go, Star,” David urges. Star hesitates, but climbs on the back of his bike. Michael looks mortified, and you can’t help but feel awful for him. You’re shocked when David nods his head toward Mike’s bike. “Come with us, Michael.”

• You know the look on Mike’s face; his first instinct is to back out, avoid trouble...but then he looks at you, and he looks at Star; like he’s worried what will happen to you if he doesn’t come along. “Mike,” You don’t have to come, you start to say, feeling Paul tense in your arms. “I’m coming.”

• “This is gonna be so sick,” Marko says with a practically manic grin, before Dwayne swats him upside the head. “Don’t be an ass.”

• “Don’t forget, (Y/N), hold on tight,” Paul says, side eyeing Michael a little less than subtly. Mike rolls his eyes and you shrug apologetically. This is awkward, for sure, but one way or another you want to see this through. Paul and the boys seem cool as hell, and at the very least seem like a good way to get back on the horse after getting over a long relationship.

• You squeeze Paul a little tighter, heart pounding against his back. He revs his engine. “You ready, babe?”

[amiwritesthings]

young dean hooking up with older men at truck stops. when john witnesses one of these encounters, he's furious, wants to step in, but doesn't, can't, d. on his knees with a cock in his mouth too much of a turn on, so he just watches in secret, maybe even jerks off to it. feelings of guilt. eventually confronts d. about his hook-ups. anger, drama, angst. d.: it's you, i just want you, i'm thinking about you when they fuck me, please let me suck your cock, dad. what will j. do? you tell me.

i am so so so sorry this took me so long and technically this isn't exactly what you asked for but it's where my brain wanted to go today so hopefully you still like it

link to ao3

_______

It’s dark when Dean walks back the short distance from the truck stop to the adjacent motel. He pulls his jacket tighter around his body against the cold, prays that John is still out somewhere drowning in cheap whiskey.

His jaw aches, his knees are sore, there’s a wet patch in his jeans, but there’s also 50 bucks in his pocket and his mind is pleasantly fuzzy with post-orgasmic endorphins.

He slides the key into the lock as quietly as he can, eases the door open carefully to keep the salt line intact. He feels his heart skip, pure rush of adrenaline, when he sees it’s not just Sammy in the room; John’s passed out in the ratty loveseat in the sitting area. It’s the next best thing to John not being here at all. If Dean’s lucky, John was too out of it to remember Dean not being here when he got back.

He closes the door behind him with a soft click, takes a second to make sure the salt line is indeed intact. Sammy snuffles softly in his sleep, turns over to his other side, and Dean shrugs out of his jacket, lays it down at the foot of his bed, before tip toeing to the bathroom, thankful for the small window, the moonlight from outside illuminating the room just enough that he doesn’t need to hit the light.

He leans on the sink, doesn’t dare to look at his own reflection in the tiny mirror that’s already gone half blind. He reaches for the mouthwash, takes a swig, lets the liquid sting his mouth and get rid off the taste of dick. He spits into the sink, blue remnants of mouthwash running into the cracks in the porcelain, rinses with water and spits again.

He freezes when there’s a rustling sound behind him, and he knows it’s John, just from the prickle of heat where John’s gaze rests heavily on the back of his neck. Fuck. Dean forces himself to look up into the mirror, to acknowledge his father’s presence. A cloud passes over the moon outside, making the room darker for a moment, casting John’s face in shadows.

John takes a step forward, eerily silent, and with how small the room is, it only takes another half-step for John to be close enough to him that his body tenses with awareness. There’s a moment of silence, unbearable seconds of uncertainty, and Dean averts his eyes, lets his head drop forward, hands bracing against the sink.

A soft puff of air against the back of his neck, warm whiskey breath, is his only warning before John’s hands come down next to his on the sink, his father’s body hot and looming behind him. ‘What’re you playing at, boy?’ John asks gruffly, voice low and dangerously quiet, and Dean swallows against the dryness in his throat, that raw sting just behind his tongue.

‘Sir?’ he asks, voice raspy and wrecked. Best to let John tell him which transgression he’s angry about before Dean accidentally adds more fuel to the fire.

‘Saw you. Out there, on your knees.’

Fuck. Dean feels like is heart is about to beat out of his chest, pulse echoing loudly in his own ears. ‘I can expl-‘, he starts but stops the moment he sees John’s hand moving, body bracing for the inevitable blow.

It never comes.

John runs a hand up Dean’s arm, a barely-there touch, hovering just close enough to give the illusion of contact while still keeping Dean acutely aware of the underlying threat. He shivers when the hand comes back down to cage him in and John leans in closer, stubble brushing his cheek, the ghost sensation of lips right up against the shell of his ear.

‘God, boy, looked so good,' John breathes, words just the tiniest bit slurred, tongue heavy with whiskey. ‘Wanted to kill that asshole for taking advantage of you like that. Old enough to be your father, that guy.’ There’s a trace of anger to the words, that sharp edge that usually has Dean bracing for a verbal lashing.

Dean exhales shakily, dares to press back just a bit into the weight of John’s body behind him. Whatever he had expected to happen if John ever found out sure wasn’t this. ‘Why didn't you?’ he asks quietly, and John drops his head forward with a sigh that fans hotly over Dean’s skin.

‘Too pretty, your lips stretched wide like that. Fuckin’ hot. Could just imagine-,' he trails off, pushes his hips forward into Dean instead, and oh. For the first time tonight, Dean wishes John was less drunk, that there was a chance this was real and not just some drunken mistake John would pretend had never happened the next morning, if he even remembered.

‘Wished it was you,’ he confesses, quietly, and behind him John draws in a sharp breath that shudders out of him in a tortured groan only a few seconds later. ‘Always wish it was you.’

At his sides, John’s knuckles go white against the sink, fingers flexing once, twice, before resettling on the cold porcelain. ‘Don’t say shit like that. Don’t know what you’re talking about.’ There’s no heat to the words, no reprimand, and Dean presses back, into John’s body, until they are flush, until he can feel the bulge in John’s jeans riding high against his ass, John’s lips dragging messily, uncoordinated, down his cheek.

‘’s all I think about. ‘s why I started doing it in the first place.’ It’s not entirely true but Dean sure as shit isn’t going to fess up about needing the money to buy food for him and Sammy when John had been gone way longer than planned a couple of years ago.

Dean tilts his head to the side when John mouths down his neck, on purpose this time, wet-hot, tongue teasing against the sensitive skin. ‘Always pretend it’s you,’ he continues, moves his hand to cover John’s, drags it to the front of his jeans where there’s still a wet spot from when he’d come in his pants earlier while sucking off some faceless stranger.

John growls, a sound that’s rumbling up from so deep in his chest, Dean can feel the vibration of it against his back. ‘Gonna let me have the real thing?’ Dean asks as he uses what little space he has to turn, face John, and he isn’t prepared for the look of sheer hunger in John’s eyes, pupils blown wide in the darkness of the room.

He drops his hands to John’s belt, fingers the buckle, waits for John to stop him, but he doesn’t. His voice is raw, low and raspy when he says, ‘Goddammit, baby, gonna be the death of me,’ and Dean can feel the flush spreading up his chest, crawling up his neck, making his cheeks pink. He deftly undoes the belt, thumbs open the button, draws the zipper down, watches as John’s eyes flutter shut, mouth dropping open in a soft pant. It’s even better than he could ever imagine.

He tugs, fingers on each side, shimmies the jeans off John’s hips, takes the boxers underneath right with it as he drops to his knees, one fluid motion, perfected with years of practice. It stings a bit, his knees still sore from kneeling in gravel earlier but he breathes through it, focuses on what’s right in front of him. And boy, when he wraps his hand around John’s dick, his mouth fucking waters. He knows that John is big, they’ve been living in each other’s pockets all of Dean’s life, he knows, but from down here, on his knees, even only half-hard, it’s impressive and his jaw already aches with the anticipation of what’s to come.

Above him, John white-knuckles the sink with one hand, the other dropping to cup Dean’s jaw, thumb brushing his cheekbone and down to drag over his lower lip, dark eyes watching his face intently. Dean tongues at the digit, just a tease, hand softly squeezing on John’s dick, a slow stroke up to the crown, and John breathes a soft ‘fuck’ as he closes his eyes, eyelashes fluttering darkly in the shadows.

The hand leaves and John takes a half-step forward, trapping Dean between his body and the sink as he braces against the wall, the mirror, and Dean takes it as the invitation it is, opens his mouth wide to take John in. He closes his lips around the head, takes it flat onto his tongue and Dean can’t stop the groan at the feeling of John’s dick finally in his mouth, at the salty-sour taste.

This is nothing like all those strangers, he thinks, this is what he’s been waiting for all along. John keeps chubbing up in his mouth and it stretches his lips, wide. He sinks down a little deeper, gets John wet, then pulls off to slick his spit down the length with his fingers. John’s breathing is heavy above him, body tense, curled tight, like he’s preparing for a fight.

Dean strokes him, once, twice, before licking around the head, wicked curl of tongue, and taking him back in, spit slicking the way as John pushes deeper with a slight flex of his hips, rubbing over the soft palate of Dean’s mouth. And fuck, Dean wishes his throat wasn’t so raw already, the drag of John’s dick almost too much when he takes a deep breath through his noses and pushes down further.

John’s hips stutter forward at the sensation and Dean pulls away with a choked cough, tries to catch his breath, as John mutters softly ‘sorry, baby, sorry’ but then his hips hitch forward again, into the loose fist Dean has curled around him. He keeps his fingers around the base this time as he sinks down, relaxes his jaw, to let John fuck into him with impatient little thrusts.

The noise his wet mouth makes is obscene in the quiet of the small room and he drops his free hand into his lap to where he’s already hard again in his jeans. He gives himself a squeeze, hums softly at the spark of pleasure, and John’s breath hitches as he flexes forward, pushing right at Dean’s throat again. Dean lets him this time, gets his own dick free, still sticky from before, and jacks himself in sync with John’s movements.

John curses under his breath, dick jumping in Dean’s mouth, and Dean redoubles his efforts, slides his mouth, wet and open, down as far as he can go, focusing on breathing through his nose. John stills on his next downstroke and the first pulse of come on his tongue almost makes Dean choke.

He pulls back, mouth open, John’s dick on his tongue, jacking him through his orgasm and he holds it there for a moment before swallowing, the hand stripping his own dick almost a blur. He hunches forward, rests his forehead against John’s hip, nuzzling at the juncture of his thigh, as he chases his own high.

When he finally comes, it’s with a high, breathy whine and a ‘fuckin’ Christ, Dean’ from John who cradles his skull, holding him close.

It takes a moment for his breathing to slow, for his heart to stop racing and when he finally pulls away, John takes a step back, the look in his eyes unreadable as he looks down to Dean. The hand slides around to cup his face, and the thumb traces his lip again, slowly, reverently, before John releases him with a pat to his cheek.

‘Get cleaned up, it’s late,’ he says, voice rough, before he steps back, away, swaying gently, leaving Dean on his knees and suddenly feeling cold.

By the time he’s cleaned up and dressed in a sleep shirt and fresh underwear, John is passed out on the bed, jeans still undone, snoring the way he only ever does when he drinks. Dean grabs a bottle of water, takes little sips – it burns to swallow – before sitting down on the edge of the other bed. He nudges Sam, all long lanky limbs sprawled out, taking up all the space, and his brother huffs in his sleep but shifts over anyway, making just enough room for him to slip into the bed beside him.

When Dean wakes the next morning, it’s to Sam already bitching about something or other and John at the table, nursing a cup of coffee, brows furrowed as he tries to make sense of something. The last night feels like a fever dream now and as Dean sits up on the bed, he tries to make eye contact with John, get some kind of acknowledgement, but he has no such luck. John pointedly avoids looking at him, busying himself with squinting at the newspaper with bleary eyes as he takes another sip of coffee.

‘You want coffee?’

Dean blinks at the question, at Sam who’s holding up an empty cup at him in question. ‘Yeah,’ he croaks, voice breaking on the just the one syllable and across the room he can see John stiffen in his seat, while Sam just looks at him funny. ‘You coming down with something?’

Dean clears his throat, tries to ignore the burn as he swallows. ‘Nah, I’m fine.’ He doesn’t sound much better, voice still all scratchy and raw, and his jaw still aches dully, and his knees protest when he pushes to stand. He excuses himself to the bathroom, taking the coffee cup Sam hands him with him. He sets the cup down on the sink, lets his eyes come up to look at his reflection in the mirror.

And there it is, the proof it was real, the smeared handprint on the mirror. Dean touches a finger to it before bringing his hand to his throat, feeling the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows, chasing the sense memory of the night before.

[drivingsideways]

For @the-ever-present-julie, based off this tumblr post.

Five times Dean and Cas kissed and never talked about it, and the one time they did and still won’t talk about it. 

Five.

It's not like Dean hasn't thought about it before.

That first month after he crawled his way out of his grave? He'd never told Sam or Bobby, but that entire month, hell, more like three,  he'd been convinced that it was all just one of Alastair's tricks. That Alastair had moved on from the crude, visceral pleasure of blood and guts and shredded flesh to this—letting him dream, and then, right when he'd let himself believe it, that the impossible had happened, Alastair would take it away.

The sick fuck.

But two could play that game, alright?

Dean- Dean was good at this. Dean knew Alastair, like calling to like in the putrid depths of hell. Dean would find a way to trip him up, it was like that time with the djinn. Find the thing that didn't fit, the thing that was impossible to explain, and then tug at that thread until it all unraveled.

Well, he didn't have to look too far.

Castiel, angel of the Lord, who made his ears bleed, and his stomach swoop—well— come the fuck on, there was no possible way his mind could have generated this. This was Alastair, through and through, Alastair who had put him on the rack and taken more pieces out of him than he'd known existed, who'd worked him over and over and over, and somewhere along the way learnt enough about Dean that he'd—

The handprint buzzed and ached and tingled and Castiel's blue, blue eyes had looked right through him, and said things like you don't think you deserve to be saved, and if  I tell you something, will you keep it a secret, I'm not a hammer, and no, this would not be the thing he let himself believe, this would not be one more way that Alastair broke him. In the backseat of his car, Anna had fitted her palm onto the scar, her delicate, smooth palm too small for it, the whorls of her fingers caressing the edges, and it had been electric, and all wrong, because it wasn't her mark that Dean carried on his friggin' re-hymenated body (it wasn't her who had gripped him tight and raised him from perdition, and Dean's body knew it in a way that Dean wasn't going to think about, let alone—)

That sonuvabitch Alastair would not break him with a fairy tale that innocent people told their children, angels watch over you, but his mother had not been innocent in all of this, had she, she had sold Sammy to the Devil, and Castiel had laid a hand on his shoulder (but had not touched his mark, why hadn't—) and had looked at Dean with something like sorrow, and didn't seem to mind when Dean called him Cas, brought him down to his level, and fuck, here he was again, out of options, out of luck, out of fuel, and his brother was someone he didn't recognize.

The sickest thing was how that was the part  that had felt real, felt painful in a way that Alastair could have never devised. Dean's soul was putting himself in the hands of a demon bitch, and there was fuck all that Dean could do about it. This was how he broke then, in the words of a prayer, the first he'd ever said, and he hadn't  known whom he was praying to, but it had been Cas who showed up, eyes bluer than any summer sky Dean had ever seen, face striated by the colours of a vending machine, and said, faith is a good sign, Dean. What was it a sign of, Dean would have liked to know, and it wasn't faith, not by a long shot, but what could a creature like Castiel have known of desperation?  Castiel who stood close, too close, but had touched him only twice, who'd said, it's not blame that rests on you, it's fate, and yeah, that was fucking Winchester Gospel for you, cursed from the start, the two of them, before they were in the womb, born under a bad sign.

But Cas had helped, and Dean had begun to think—but of course, Cas left, and there was only poor, stupid Jimmy Novak, and then Cas was back, but not really, Cas was a stranger, and Dean didn't know when he'd stopped thinking of Cas as a stranger, and just, strange—

 Dean had laid one across Castiel's marble-face that didn't shatter, tried, because what else could he have done? This is real, this is the only thing that's worth it and even before the disappointment of having Cas leave could sink in, the handprint had buzzed and ached and tingled  as Cas pressed him against a wall and pressed a palm against his lips and then bled on the floor, for Dean, (whom he didn't serve) and Cas had said, I'll hold them all off, go save him, but of course it had been too late, because that was the story of Dean's life, too late, too late.

Cas comes back, and oh look, Cas has learnt what desperation means, after all. There's something wild in his eyes, that he tries to hide but doesn't succeed when he says, we need God, it's not theological, it's strategic, and if Dean had a moment to take a breath, he would have wanted to sit Cas down, and say, listen man, I understand it, but this is a road to nowhere, you're only going to waste your time, you gotta stop loving what can't love you back, and yeah, that'd have been hypocritical of him, but so what, that was pretty low down on Dean's laundry list of sins.

But it's the Apocalypse, and as it happens Dean's got his own shit to deal with, and Cas isn't his responsibility, so what if he just died for Dean or whatever, alright, Dean owes him, but not like that.

And now it's the end of the world, their last night on earth, and Dean's not too late to make Cas smile at him, confused but fond, and Castiel's smile is nothing like Jimmy Novak's. Cas is nothing like Jimmy Novak who'd just been a naive man in an ugly suit, and well. He'd promised Cas a good time, and Dean's not got a lot to give Cas, by way of thanks or comfort or anything, and what had Cas said that time? Everything on earth is pain, but that's only cause he doesn't know, the good parts, the best parts, and before Dean can chicken out of it, he's pressing Cas up against the Impala, and Cas is letting him, goes willing, pliant, staring at him, eyes wide, and Dean sees the moment it happens, the small hitch of breath he takes, that Cas, who doesn't need to breathe makes, and his eyes dart to Dean's lips and flash up again, and Dean's kissing him, and it's—riding a comet—

Cas doesn't know how to kiss.

But that's fine, that's a-ok, because Dean does, and Dean can show him, and Cas is a quick learner, zero to six hundred in twenty seconds or less, and now it's Dean who can't breathe except in loud, panting gasps, Cas's warm, strong hand wrapped with his around their dicks, not enough slick, a little too rough, too painful, perfect, perfect, and Cas is eating his face, teeth sharp and painful on Dean's lips, eyes still wide open and unblinking, the freak, but his gaze is hot and ferocious, and Dean's eyes flutter shut again on a moan, because Dean's burning, has been burning all this time, he realizes, for this, for—

Cas rips his sleeve off, jacket and shirt, both gone,  and then his hand is there, and Dean's coming, wet, thick and nasty all over an angel's hand, he should be going to hell for this, except Cas hadn't let him stay there, and hadn't thrown him back, and this was real, Dean shuddering, face hidden in the crook of Cas' neck, trembling, his knees giving way, but Cas' got him, the hand on his shoulder slipping lower, around his back to hold him up, holding him in place,  and Dean should— he should—

 Four.

He  wakes up alone in a motel room, and there is a tomorrow, and then the  day after, but no Cas, and then there is two thousand fucking fourteen, and Cas is still there in the ruins that Sam and Dean made of the world , jesus fucking christ on a candy stick, Cas is still there.

Cas is broken, because Dean did that to him, and Cas kisses him, once, open mouthed and filthy, and then draws back and says, the day I decide to stay, make sure I don't, please, if you ever cared even a little, promise me, and then Cas goes off to die with even-more-of-an-asshole-future-him, because that's just how he rolls.

 Three.

He shouldn't.

If that mook Zach's little thought experiment had taught him anything, it should have been this- that Cas was off limits.

That he shouldn't keeping finding ways to keep him close.

He shouldn't keep finding ways to kiss Cas, but that's exactly what he does.

The world's ending around them in slow motion and they are fucking.

They're fucking in dank, stinking alleys, blood running down Dean's chin, and Cas licking it up, and feeding it back to him, tongue practically molesting Dean's tonsils, fingers squeezing his neck, rubbing against each other fully clothed, until Dean's coming in his pants. They're fucking on stained  bedsheets of grimy hotel rooms, lights flickering, crackling, every electronic instrument in a five mile radius gone haywire, the smell of ozone and jizz making Dean dizzier, as Cas pounds him through four successive orgasms, each more spectacular and painful than the last, Dean's body a limp rag after. They're fucking squeezed together in the backseat of the Impala, Dean hunched over Cas, occasionally knocking his head on the roof, but he can't stop, won't stop, nothing has felt this good, a thick fat dick inside him, filling up his empty places, and  Cas slack-mouthed, and eyes closed under him, hands wrapped around Dean's biceps so tight that Dean's gotta wear long sleeves through the hottest summer in three centuries, so that Sammy won't ask.

Sam knows, of course he does.

Cas isn't subtle when he turns up, dishevelled, hair sticking out in five different directions, looking pissed off and tired; shrinking, somehow, but still with that crackling power about him, and not looking at anyone or anything except at Dean, like all the roads he's taken looking for God have only led him straight back to Dean. Sam's taken to clearing his throat awkwardly, and hot-footing it out of hearing range the moment Cas appears, and just as well, Dean doesn't have it in him anymore to be quiet, sprawled wide open on the bed, hands twisting in the sheets as  Cas fucks him fuck, fuck, fuck,  jesus fuck,  if he hadn't already gone to hell, surely this would send him there, profaning this holy thing of god, whose tongue was made for songs of praise and worship, and is instead all the way up Dean's ass, dragging an orgasm out of him.

It's alright, he reasons, on the days Cas is gone, and Sam is there, but gone.

Cas and him, they're not so different after all. They're both the disappointing sons of deadbeat dads, and Cas is losing his wings and his faith at approximately the same speed that Dean's losing everything and everyone, and the world is going to hell in a handbasket, and there's no way to fix it, no way to undo it, and he's going to have to kill the love of his life, and if this is his consolation prize, he's going to take it.

(Dean loves taking it.)

Dean will take it and he doesn't want to talk about it, and hey, apparently, neither does Cas, so that's peachy, that's perfect, and Dean shouldn't, but he does, and Cas lets him, and he does, right until Sam gets thrown into the pit, and Dean doesn't.

Cas' grace knits him together, once more, and then he's gone, and so is Dean.

 Two.

Cas comes back.

But he's more of a stranger than he'd ever been, even in that barn, what feels like a lifetime ago, and he won't talk, and sure as fuck won't listen, and his blue gaze when it meets Dean's is cool as lake water, as if Dean doesn't know what Cas sounds like, strung out of his mind with pleasure, from having Dean hold him down with a binding sigil and fuck him raw.

As if they'd never been friends, and perhaps they hadn't, that was just what it was like in the war, and the war was over, and so were they.

Cas is all impatience, and anger, and sullen resentment, brittle in a way that scares Dean if he really thinks about it, because it's Cas, and something's wrong, Dean can feel it deep in his bones, just like he knew with Sammy, but he—

Look, if Cas wants to reach him, he knows how to call.

But then it's too late (again) and there's a war (again, or it was never over, why is it never over), only this time it's Cas that Dean needs to kill, really kill, and fuck if he knows how, but in the end, all he can do is watch as Cas walks into the water, and all that's left of him is a stained, torn trenchcoat.

Dean keeps it.

He can't look at it, can't stand to, that entire year, but he keeps it.

And then Cas comes back (again), but then he's gone (again) and what had Dean expected, really?

And Dean's tired, ok, so tired, so tired and sick and done, and the war is still on—maybe he shouldn't have left Cas, maybe he should have tried harder, maybe he should have called, maybe it wouldn't have all gone to shit, if Dean hadn't screwed it up once again, hadn't failed—

 "Cas"  he says, squinting against the sun on his face, up at where Cas is perched on the roof of the Impala. "Why are you covered in bees?"

The air is filled with a humming that Dean's only 90% certain are the bees.

"They like me, Dean," says Cas, as though that were a reasonable explanation, and fuck knows, maybe it was, in that fucked up noodle of his. "They wanted me to stay with them."

Shit, fuck.

Dean rubs his hands over his eyes.

"You maybe want to come inside and talk?"

Crazy or not, they needed all the help they could—

Cas hops down from the car, and the bees rise up in an angry, buzzing cloud before settling back.

"Lose the bees first", says Dean, and then regrets it, when Cas stands before him naked as a new-born.

"Dude!" yelps Dean, "Come on! Where the fuck are your clothes?"

"I—", says Cas, sounding lost and forlorn as he stares down at himself. "I'm not sure. The bees didn't like them."

And fuck, like this, Dean can see that Cas is just skin and bone, pale skin stretched over prominent ribs, hip bones jutting out—

"Well, mojo them back from wherever you left them", Dean growls, "There's a sandwich in it for you."

Cas looks up, hopeful.

"Peanut butter?"

"Sure", says Dean and hopes to god the vending machine has  something that resembles a sandwich. "But get some.." he waves his hands, not looking at Cas, because it hurts to see him like this.

There's nothing like a sandwich in the machine, so he ends up instructing Cas to wait for him in the room while he makes a quick run to the nearest store. He picks up some orange juice and bananas while he's at it, along with the bread, peanut butter and jam.

"This is very kind of you, Dean" says Cas, as he sits (fully clothed, in his hospital scrubs and trenchcoat), his hands in his lap.

"So, what, you need to eat these days?" Dean queries. "You look like you've just spent six months on a fad diet".

Cas looks away, up at the ceiling.

"The grace is more useful for other things" he says, "There's so much to do. So many creatures in pain. I forget to."

"Listen", starts Dean, because he can guess where this is coming from, hell, it isn't like—

"Is my sandwich ready?"

Dean slides it across the table, and watches as Cas wolfs it down.

There's a bit of jam that gets stuck to the corner of his mouth, and Dean gestures at it, and then, when Cas looks confused, reaches out to—

Cas flinches.

Dean freezes, hand stuck awkwardly in mid-air, throat closing up.

He leans back, withdrawing his hand.

"You've got some jam smeared at the corner of your mouth, like a goddamned three year old, Cas".

"Oh", says Cas, and it vanishes.

Dean swallows the guess you don’t mind wasting your mojo on that then, that sits on his tongue, and Cas finishes his sandwich, suddenly quiet, staring down at his sandwich,  though it wasn't like he'd been saying anything before, but it's a different sort of quiet between them now, filled with all the things that Dean wants to scream at him, and can't.

Cas doesn't touch the bananas, but slurps the orange juice, loudly.

Dean watches as Cas licks his lips, tongue darting out to taste the last of it.

When he looks up, Cas is looking at him.

He feels his cheeks heat, caught out.

"You’re sweet", says Cas, suddenly. "Sweeter than all the honey in the world".

And before Dean can process it, he leans forward, brushing his lips against Dean's; a butterfly of a kiss, and then he's gone, in a quiet whoosh, and Dean's left alone, and when he wets his suddenly parched lips, he can taste the faint bitter-sour flavour of canned orange on them.

 One

Well, Dean's not making the same mistake twice.

There's no way he's gonna leave Cas behind.

Where's the angel, he asks, as he hacks his way through Purgatory, where's the angel?

Cas, he prays, c'mon man. Don't do this to me.

Cas, please.

Once he gets slashed by something, some kind of hellbreed that seemed half werewolf, half vampire, and it's pretty bad, but somehow he manages to lose them, holed up high up in cave he'd discovered in some time ago. The view's spectacular from the ridge or would be, if the hills and valleys and forests weren't teeming with things that were out for his blood, and Cas'.

He manages the staunch the bleeding. The gash isn't too deep after all, but he's gonna have to stay put for a couple of days. But then the chills start, and he thinks, shit, shit. Starting a fire is a sure way to get killed, no way he's gonna be able to take on anything more dangerous than a field mouse right now, and fuck, he's exhausted, suddenly, and ok, this wasn't good, the ground seemed to be rushing up to meet his face—

 He's warm.

Cocooned in the softest of embraces, safe, untouchable.

"Mom?" he whispers, "Is that you?"

A hand brushes over his forehead, light and gentle.

He struggles to open his eyes, which seem to be refusing to cooperate.

It's not mom.

"Cas" he rasps, bleary eyed, throat drier than a desert. "Cas?"

"Shh" says Cas, "You're safe now. Rest, Dean."

And it's true, Dean can feel it, cradled here in—Cas' wings, he thinks, sleepily, unable to hold on to the thought. Those are Cas' wings he can feel, sheltering, soft, warm.

"You found me", he mumbles, "I've been looking for you."

"Shhh", Cas rumbles, "Don't talk. It's alright."

"Cas."

A feather light press against his mouth, and then another, and then a third.

"I'm here", Cas whispers, "Dean. Rest now."

But when he wakes up, he's alone.

If it weren't for the healed gash, skin smooth and untouched, every aching muscle restored like he'd been checked into a fancy spa for a month, he'd have been certain he dreamt it.

Then they get topside, and he wishes it had only been a dream, and not one more thing he'd have to forget.

 (Plus One)

 Sam's here, finally.

Bobby had been right, time sure passed different around here.

Sam's here now, and it's perfect.

Almost.

Cas isn't around.

Or he's everywhere, but nowhere where Dean can see him, reach out and touch him.

When he asks around, he gets vague answers.

Ellen says, oh, I think Jack and Cas are in some other planetary system this week.

Two weeks later, by Dean's counting, Rufus says, you just missed him, boy, he was here helping fix my roof not half-hour ago.

Jack says, looking embarrassed, uh, I sent him on a mission, to, um, uh, Andromeda, and then, uh, I have to go, nice seeing you again, Dean, and vanishes before Dean can whup his ass for lying to his family.

Dean gets into the Impala; tells Sam he's got a supply run to make.

"You've got like a 100 cartons of beer, Dean",  says Sam.

"Not beer, Sammy."

Sam gives him a long look.

Dean shrugs, look, it wasn't like Sam didn't know.

Sam nods, once, lips quirking a little.

"Good luck, then" he says.

Dean flips a finger at him.

"C'mon, Baby" he says, as he pulls onto the road, "Take me to him."

 Baby's never let him down.

 Of course, Cas has gone and set his feathery ass down somewhere on the highest mountain that Dean has ever seen, the top of it half hidden in a swirl of clouds. There's only a narrow trail, no way to take Baby up, so he parks her under the shade of a leafy tree of some species he's pretty sure isn't found on earth, and shrugs off his jacket, wrapping it around his waist.

Jesus, but Cas could be a real dick, and it wasn't like Dean didn't already know that, but, wow.

 The trail is narrow, though not very steep, and the foliage dense for most parts, as he begins to climb. There's a river or a small waterfall somewhere, he can hear the sound of it, a muted roar. Up and up it goes, through plants and shrubs- or things that look like plants or shrubs, he can't be sure of anything here, he's realized. Occasionally, a small woodland creature of indeterminate origin will cross his path. Some of them stop and stare. One or two get experimentally close, while he stands as still as possible, and lets them acclimatize themselves to his scent. The foliage isn't dense enough to block out all sunlight, and every now and again the path will emerge onto an outcrop of rock and grass, probably intended as a rest-stop for the weary. Dean's only slightly out of breath, though the air gets cooler as he goes higher. But the sun is warm enough for a sheen of sweat to form, making his t shirt stick to his spine.

He sinks down onto a convenient grassy knoll and takes a few breaths. Clouds float lazily over the valley below, that stretches out farther than his eye can see. The river he's hearing winds through it, clear and blue, through acres and acres of green and violet, and brown and red. He turns his face up toward the sky.

Was it possible to get sunburn in Heaven?

Well, he was going to find out.

He turns his head a little.

He's about half way up the mountain, he estimates.

Given the position of the sun, he's been climbing about three hours.

Making me work for it, huh, buddy? Dick move, Cas, gotta tell you that.

Something rustles in the grass near him: a tiny grass snake, slim and green.

Snakes in paradise, wow, wasn't that theologically wrong or something?

But it gives him a beady eyed look and slithers over his outstretched palm and then away, unbothered, leaving behind a fleeting sense of dry leather.

Dean sighs.

"Cas?" he says, softly. "You're waiting for me, right?"

He doesn't know what he'll do if Cas isn't.

The thought makes his heart triphammer in his chest, fear gripping it.

What if he was too late, again?

But he's got to believe that he's right about this.

That he's here because Cas is ready, finally, to let Dean find him.

In those years after Purgatory, they'd never managed, somehow to make it work.

Every time Cas left—every time Cas came back—it got harder, somehow, to say, don't go, please, I need you, forgive me, stay.

Dean- he'd just become angrier and meaner, falling deeper and deeper and this was a grave that even Cas couldn't pull him out of. And then, when he'd been ready-almost—that second time in Purgatory, it had seemed like Cas wasn't ready, though surely, he knew, why else had he stopped Dean—

But the joke was on Dean, because Cas hadn't known, and then it had been too late. Cas was slipping through his fingers one more time, beatific in his joy, as he threw himself into the pit for Dean, and Dean had known, had known, that it was the last time.

 When it was all over, he had waited.

Hope was a thing with feathers.

He had waited for Jack to bring Cas back to them, to Dean.

But Jack hadn't.

No way that Jack hadn't sprung Cas from the Empty, there was just no fucking way that would have happened, so that meant that Cas didn't want to see Dean.

And alright, maybe Dean deserved that, maybe that was his penance, and he would do it, gladly.

He wouldn't complain, and he'd go through the rest of his life with a piece of him missing, and it was what it was, there were things you couldn't undo, there were sorrows that had to be borne.

On the bad days, after a hunt that went wrong- there were, after all, still some of those—he'd lie  in bed, every tendon and muscle and bone aching, and when he closed his eyes, he'd try to will himself back there, to that cave in Purgatory, the safety and comfort of Cas' shelter, and the sweet press of his lips against Dean's.

Sweeter than all the honey in the world.

 He blinks awake.

Apparently he'd taken a nap, though given that the sun was still steadily beating down on his face—and yes, you could get sunburn in heaven, thanks for nothing Jack—it hadn't been too long.

It takes another two hours, and he's almost giving up hope, wondering whether he's going to end up just spending the night alone on this mountain after all, when he breaks through a particularly dense grove and finds himself in a middle of a garden.

The garden- in flagrant, dizzying bloom around a cobbled stone path that leads to a small wooden cabin nestled against the wall of the mountain- has an occupant.

Dean feels like his breath was punched out of him.

My true form is as tall as the Chrysler building, Cas had once said, the lying liar that he was, because he's probably twice as tall. He's all iridescent wings that span twenty feet either side, and a dozen wheels spinning in different directions and something that looks like blue flames trailing the edges of his wings, and Dean is—

Jesus.

Cas turns toward him at that, and Dean senses his-shock?- before the almost unbearable brightness dims slowly, coalescing into a familiar shape.

"Not quite", says Cas. "Hello, Dean."

Dean's feet seem locked to the ground, and Cas doesn't make a move toward him either.

"Hi", Dean breathes out, the air rushing out of his lungs with the word. "Cas."

Cas has switched out the trenchcoat and suit for comfortable looking pair of white linen pants and a loose short tunic of sky blue, that match his eyes, and there's what looks like a week's worth of stubble along his jaw.

"Heaven can't afford a razor?" is what Dean says next, like the idiot he is.

Cas' eyes crinkle. "I've been told it makes me more attractive".

What, who- no- fuck.

Dean's already up in Cas' space before he realizes it.

"Who told you that?" he rasps, and up close he can see the flecks of grey in the stubble, and at Cas' temples, and yes, it made him breathtakingly hot, but damned if Dean was going to— "They were lying, just so you know."

Cas is smiling at him.

"Dean," he says, softly.

Dean reaches out to run a finger against his jaw, going against the grain, ends up with his fingers resting lightly against Cas' cheek, just under his ear.

"You’re a dick" he says, softly, "you know that?"

Cas nods.

"I've been" starts Dean, and then finds he's out of words, takes a shuddery breath instead, furiously trying to blink away the wetness in his eyes.

Cas's hands cup his face, warm and sure, and he draws Dean's forehead down to his.

"I know", Cas says, softly. "But I would do it again if it meant I saved you. I would do it all again."

"I should have told you," whispers Dean, "I'm sorry I wasn't brave enough."

"Dean", says Cas, softly, "You've always been enough."

Above them the sky starts turning a fiery orange as the first of the suns starts to set.

Cas' wings- which he hasn't tucked away- take on a metallic shine, but they feel warm, and safe, just like Dean remembers.

Dean kisses him, softly, once, then again, then again.

"Sweeter than all the honey in the world", he whispers, glad that there's nobody to hear this but Cas.

"You don't even like honey", says Cas, after a moment. "You never let Sam put any in your tea."

Dean draws back.

"You don’t remember", he accuses, genuinely horrified.

Cas' brows draw together in a frown.

"What?"

"You kissed me! And said—well you said what you said! Back in the day when you were all crazy!"

"Which time?"

Dean groans, thumping his head onto Cas' shoulder.

Cas buries his nose in Dean's hair and tucks him closer in his embrace.

"I remember" he confesses, quietly, after a moment. "But I thought you'd want to forget it."

"Cas", Dean, sighing, as he turns to nuzzle the soft, tender skin beneath Cas' ear, placing a small kiss there, as he presses closer. "Let's never talk about this again, ok?"

[whumpasaurus101]

Five Past Three

Oki ik i said i was on a writing break but uhmmmmm feck that :) here is some Pheonix content BC THE POOR BEBE HAS BEEN NEGLECTED OMG!!! SO here is some backstory shenanigans that are sorta important to know heheh 👀

CW: drug use (not in too much detail but oc is high.) / i cant think of anything else BUT if i missed anything plz plz plzzzz lmk!!!!!

masterlist

Pheonix collapsed to the ground with a grunt. His whole body was tingling, almost numb. He felt as if everyone in the world was watching him. He lifted his head, no one.

The wind blew more, making Pheonix shiver.

He could still feel the pounding of the nightclub’s music in his head. Not the one he worked at, oh no no, he wouldn't get high at the place he worked at.

He scrambled in his pocket with numb fingers, trying his best to take out his phone. He tried to put in his passcode, 1-7-8-5, try again, 1-4-5-6, try again “FUCK!” Pheonix yelled, throwing his phone across the car park, hearing it crack against the concrete.

“Who’s there?” Came a voice. Pheonix curled up more in on himself. “Son, are you alright?” Phoenix's head snapped up to see an old man standing in front of him. His vision was shaking as he tried to focus in on the man. He could hear him talking but he couldn't understand! He sounded so far away, yet, he was just about a meter away.

“Hey -ah! Ya reak, boy! What did you take?!”

“Wh-what time is it?” Pheonix’s shaky voice asked. “It's five past three in the mornin’, lad. Now, are ya gonna answer my question?” Pheonix shook his head. No. To be fully honest, Pheonix didn’t know himself. He shouldn't have been so reckless! How did he even get in the carpark? He didn't remember walking here.

“This is dangerous! Someone coulda just picked you from the streets and- well, God knows what would happen! You're lucky I saw ya, lad.” His phone! That's what he was doing! “C-could you pass me my phone please, it-it's over there.” The man looked at him, confused at first before he saw the phone lying there. He strolled over and picked it up, studying the cracked screen.

The lock screen came on and the man could see some notifications. Ten missed calls from Sammy, a bunch of text messages from Sammy too and then just some regular notifications. “Well, it seems as if someone is worried about you, ya better call them back before they go absolutely mad lookin’ for ya, ay?”

Pheonix just held out his hand for the phone before asking again, “What time is it?” The man huffed, “Lad, you just asked, it's still five past three.” Pheonix’s eyebrows furrowed, “N-no, you told me that ages ago, th-the- I-”

“Shhh, it's alright, relax yourself.” He passed Pheonix’s phone over and pointed at the time, “See?” He asked in a gentle voice. Pheonix nodded as he saw the numbers through tear-filled eyes.

“I-I- yes, I’m sorry-” “Hey, no need. Now, how about you ring your friend there and we can sort out how we can get ya home. How does that sound?” Pheonix nodded as he tried to put in his passcode once more. His hands were shaking violently as his numb fingers attempted to key in the numbers. Please try again.

“Here, how about I’ll put it in for you and you can do the talking, aye?” Pheonix nodded, “The uh, the passcode is 1-4-5-2. The man put in the code and Pheonix’s phone unlocked. The man opened the phone app and pressed the contact ‘Sammy’. It only took one ring until Sammy’s desperate voice was heard, “Pheonix?!? Pheonix are you okay?! God I'm gonna kill you if I haven't already died from a heart attack!" Pheonix chuckled slowly, " ‘m okay Sammy. Well, kinda. Theres a uh,, a man with me.”

“WHAT?! PHEONIX PUT ME ON SPEAKER RIGHT NOW!”

“Ay, it's okay, he’s makin’ it sound a lot worse than it is,” The man chuckled. Pheonix laughed, almost falling from his sitting position. “It's alright, my name is Hudson Wheeler, I’ll share the location where we are now. I was walkin’ back to my car when I saw your friend here, someone must have roofied him.. Unless he took the drugs himself. Although, I haven't gotten much chat from him.”

Sammy’s breathing was heavy on the other line as he tried to decide whether to believe it. “Alright, alright, stay on the call and send me your location right now.” Hudson went into messages and selected the button to share the location, he waited for a moment before asking, “Have you got it?”

“Yeah, yeah. Jesus Christ, Pheonix. Alright, how long can you stay with him for, Hudson?”

“As long as you need. You know, I can bring him anywhere if you need me to?”

“No, no, sorry, but no. I- I’ll collect him but it might take me a little while.”

“That's alright. No worries, I have all the time in the world.” Sammy let out a sigh of relief, “Uhm, thank you. Thanks for helping him and I’m sorry I was salty at the start. He’s just, well we've had some bad experiences when it comes to this stuff in the past.”

“Hey, it's all good! You're a great friend.”

“See you sooooon Ssssssammmmyyyyy,” Pheonix laughed.

“Mhm… see you soon.”

Sammy hung up and Hudson looked at Pheonix, shaking his head and chuckled.

Sammy rushed out to the driveway of their house and quickly hopped into his car, keys, wallet, water, phone. That's everything, they thought. They quickly turned on the engine and reversed out of the driveway. They pulled up a map on their phone and followed the directions that came up on the screen.

They put the volume of the radio on full volume and drove. He knew he was driving over the speed limit but he had to get to his friend. They had to. Their foot pressed down on the excelerator more than intended but they didn't notice.

They didn't notice until police sirens started to blare. “No! SHIT!” They slammed the steering wheel with all his force, making their palms turn red. They thought about just speeding and avoiding the police, but he had enough things that they could get caught for than that.

They growled and pulled over, running a hand through their hair. A policeman came over and tapped on the window. Sammy blew out a huff of air and pulled down the window, “Hey officer.”

The officer shone a flashlight into the car, making Sammy wince and cover their eyes. “HEY! Hands up slowly, no sudden movements.” “I'm s-sorry officer!”

“It's alright, now, do you know why I pulled you over?” The officer’s thick Southern accent spoke. “I'm sorry, I was going way above the speed limit, I just- I wasn't thinking, I just-” “Hey, hey, hey, no need to get wound up now alright?” Sammy nodded. “Alright, and where are you going to?”

Sammy thought for a moment, they couldn't give away too much. Pheonix had taken drugs. The last thing Sammy would want is their friend to get arrested!! “I uhm, I'm just going to pick up my friend.” “Mhmm, alright. Listen, you seem like a good person, although I am quite curious why you're out this late, but listen. Drive slower and focus, got it?” Sammy nodded quickly, “Y-yes officer, thank you so much officer, I promise it won’t happen again.” The police officer chuckled slightly, “It's alright, safe drive.” “You too.”

The officer patted the window and smiled and Sammy drove off. Slow, slow, easy, calm, relax. They looked to the map, fifteen minutes.

Hudson looked over to Pheonix who was now lying on the ground, eyes wide as he looked up at night sky. Tears streamed down his face. “Hey now, why are you crying?” Pheonix licked his dry lips and shrugged. He could see streaks of pink and green in the sky, he guessed Hudson couldn't see them.

Hudson dug into his backpack, “Ah, I knew I had it!” He took out a water bottle, “Here, sit up.” He supported Pheonix’s back and helped him sit up. He brought the water bottle to Pheonix’s lips and gently tipped the water.

Pheonix was fully leaning against Hudson for support. He gulped the water quickly and whined as Hudson took the bottle away. “Hey, I cant have ya gettin sick alright?” Pheonix whined but nodded. He then turned his body with a groan and cuddled into Hudson as he shivered.

Hudson sighed as he looked at Pheonix, “What are ya doin’ to yourself, lad?” He shielded his eyes as bright lights suddenly shone. “Looks like your friend is here. Hey, wake up.” Hudson slowly stood up, carrying Pheonix by the shoulders with him.

Sammy rushed out of their car and dashed over to Pheonix, “Oh my god, Pheonix, you idiot! Here, can you help me get him into the car please?” “Of course.”

The pair guided Pheonix to the backseat and laid him across the back. Sammy closed the door and sighed. Hudson gave him a sympathetic smile. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

“Of course, my pleasure. I would tell you ways to help him sober up, but I'm guessing this isn't your first rodeo,” He chuckled slightly.

Sammy huffed, “No, can't say it is. But seriously, thank you. Listen, this is all I got but please take it,” Sammy handed a fifty dollar bill to Hudson. “No, hey, that's not necessary at all!”

“No, no, please take it.”

Hudson sighed and took it, “Thank you.”

“Can I give you a lift back home at all?” Hudson smiled, “Oh that's so kind, my car is actually only five minutes away but thank you.”

“Of course -no of course.”

“Well, you better get that laddo home, hm?” “Yes, yes. Thank you.”

Sammy got back into the driver’s seat and turned on the engine. They looked in the mirror and saw Pheonix asleep. They smiled and closed his eyes for a moment. No, no, get home and then sleep. They widened his eyes and put their hands back on the steering wheel.

The drive home was fine. Sammy didn't play the radio to ensure Pheonix could rest. They kept at the right speed too, they couldn't get pulled over again. They yawned and blinked hard for a few moments.

Once the car pulled into the driveway, Sammy helped Pheonix into their house. Pheonix groaned but Sammy ignored him, “Hey, none of that now. Cmon, let's get you to your room.”

They tucked Pheonix into the guest room’s bed and left a basin on the ground just incase. “Rest up,” they whispered. “G’niiiiiiiiiight,” Pheonix chuckled.

---

taglist: @as-a-matter-of-whump @jordanstrophe @milk-carton-whump @yesthisiswhump @kixngiggles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @happy-whumper @thelazywitchphotographer

[supernatural-jackles]

Owe You One - Part 4

Title: Owe You One - Jefferson’s Starship

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 7,067

Warnings: Minor Angst, Sexual Harassment, Self-Loathing, Anxiety, Fluff, Smut, Friends with Benefits

Summary: Dean Winchester has been your best friend and neighbour for the last year. A year of finding comfort in random drop ins and casual conversations, but neither of you know the pasts that the other has. Not fully. Pasts that come back to haunt you, and ruin everything you want in life. Can you find what you’re seeking in a couple of favours and a good time between the sheets or is history doomed to repeat itself?

Owe You One - Masterlist

Squares Filled: Bartender!AU ( @spndeanbingo) FWB Relationship ( @spnfluffbingo)

A/N: Part 4!! I hope y’all enjoy this part!! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!! Happy reading!!  

 You stirred away at the pot you had on the stove, getting dinner ready for yourself. It was Friday night, and you had just gotten home from work about half an hour ago. You changed into your comfortable pyjamas before deciding to cook yourself a nice dinner. You were going to curl up on the couch for a little while and maybe turn in early. You had nothing extensive planned. Nothing but your PVR and previous episodes of The Walking Dead to catch up on.

 You reached for a bowl in the cupboard next to you, placing it on the counter before pouring your pasta into it. You heard three loud knocks at your door, pulling you from your meal for a moment. You placed it back down on the stove before heading over to the door, opening it up. You rolled your eyes with a smile when you found Dean standing there with a smile playing on his lips. You walked away from the door, letting him walk in without protest.

 “You want something to eat? I made enough pasta for two,” you pointed out. “Four cheese.”

 “Oh fuck yes,” he nodded, taking a seat at your counter. You reached in the cupboard, grabbing another bowl before pouring some into it. You took two forks out of the drawer, bringing Dean’s bowl over first before your own. You hopped on the chair next to him, looking forward to tasting your meal.

 “Thank you for this,” he smiled, taking a forkful.

 “You’re welcome,” you beamed, taking your own bite.

 “So what are you up to tonight?” he asked nonchalantly.

 “Stuff,” you answered smuggly. “What do you want?”

 “How do you know I want something?” he claimed, his voice went up half an octave.

 “Because you didn’t call or text before coming over tonight. You usually do if you just want to hang out for the night. So I’ll ask again, what do you want, Winchester?” you chuckled.

 “Okay, I have a huge favour to ask and seen as how you’re wearing your cute comfy pyjamas, I know you aren’t doing anything tonight. I also know for a damn fact that you would never let any guy see you in those so you’re not getting laid tonight.”

 “Thank you! I get the point,” you scoffed playfully, taking another bite.

 “I need help at the bar tonight. Sammy’s gonna be late and all I’ve got is Benny. You’re the only one that I can trust,” he stated. “I’ll pay you, of course. And whatever tips you make are yours.”

 “So you want me to bartend at Jefferson’s Starship tonight and I get paid?” you chuckled. “Actual money?”

 “What, you think I’m going to pay you in sex again?” he laughed, shaking his head. “‘Cause I can if you want me to. A little touchy touchy-”

 “Shut up, Dean,” you giggled, shoving him a little. “How late do I have to stay?”

 “Just until Sam gets in,” he assured you. “Not all night.”

 “Alright, let me eat. Then I’ll go get changed. You’re lucky I like you,” you side-eyed him.

 “I owe you big time,” he breathed out in relief. “Like huge, sweetheart.”

 “I’ll take you up on it at some point,” you winked. “Really though, you don’t owe me anything. Remember, you helped me out of a very low point. That isn’t easy.”

 “I still owe you a little. You literally never go out to the bar,” he pointed out with a sad smile.

 “You are more than right. Remember that,” you winked. “How was your day anyways?”

 “Eh, it was okay. Pretty busy as usual. I kept to myself at my station. My dad worked on what he needed to do. I fixed up a couple of cars and got all my paperwork done so I don’t have to do any this weekend. Fresh start Monday morning,” he explained to you. “How was your day?”

 “It was okay. Boring as hell, but that’s my job for you,” you shrugged.

 “So you were going to use this time to unwind, huh?” he said sheepishly. You could see the guilt he felt sores across his features. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

 “It’s okay, De. I should probably try to get out more anyways. Sitting at home alone isn’t going to do me any good,” you breathed out.

 “I mean, you’re not entirely wrong. Sometimes alone time is what you need. But in this case, you’re coming out. Not to mention, I own the bar,” he smirked.

 “Yeah yeah,” you tried not to smile.

 You managed to eat your pasta in record time. You figured you’d do the dishes in the morning after your breakfast. You knew Dean had to be there soon, and you didn’t want to leave him or Benny screwed. This was a job for you and you were going to work with professionalism.

 You grabbed something comfortable and presentable to wear to the bar. A pair of dark skinny jeans with a rip in the knee. You pulled on one of your white shirts and threw one of your red flannels over it to keep with the Winchester look. After that, you grabbed your comfortable boots and your bag, heading out the door with Dean by your side.

 Dean opened up your door for you and you slipped inside. There was a part of you that wondered if this was a good idea. After all, he and his brother owned this bar; his family. Last you knew, his family hated you. All but Dean. You didn’t want Sam to walk in and kick you out or worse, yell at you in front of everyone. You didn’t want to ruin their business. This was important to both of them because they started it together. You weren’t going to be the one to come between them. You were simply going to help your friend out and go on your way home. If Dean wanted to join you later, that was fine. But you weren’t supposed to mix business with pleasure.

 Dean parked in his designated spot out the back of the bar. There was a spot for him and a spot for Sam. No one else had access to park back here. You kicked your door open, circling around the car to the front. Dean motioned for you to follow him to the doors around the front of the building.

 The second you walked into the empty bar, you smiled to yourself. This bar wasn’t like any of the bars you had been in and you had been in many of them during your college days. They wanted their place to feel like home in some sense. There was a jukebox in the corner that played only classic rock. Lots of room for people to dance. Enough tables for people to sit. Booths for those who had bigger groups. Couches and chairs set up around the tv. By the actual bar, he had stools set up all around and a tv up on the wall so people could watch from there. He had all his liquor on display and coasters stacked, ready to go. All his glassware was branded with the bar's name, and a cowboy hat. This place was something to be really proud of, that was for certain.

 “Well well, look who it is,” Benny smiled. “I’ll be damned if it isn’t miss Y/N walking in for the first time in forever.”

 “Hi Benny,” you grinned

 “Hiya darlin,” he beamed. “What can I get for you tonight?”

 “I’m working tonight,” you told him, circling around the back of the bar. “Boss needed and extra set of hands.”

 “If you need help with anything, Y/N, just let one of us know. I know you know what you’re doing,” Dean nodded.

 “You’re damn right I do,” you said confidently. You grabbed an apron from the shelf beneath the cash register. You had a notepad, a pen and a cloth in there, ready to get to work. It had been a long time since you had stepped foot behind a bar, but you were sure you were going to snap right back into it pretty quickly. “Let’s do this.”

 It wasn’t long before people flooded into the bar. Some people just getting off work, having a drink to wind down. Others coming in in groups. The three of you worked in a perfect sync with one another. Pouring and mixing drinks the fastest you could get them to the customers in a timely manner. In record time, you had about fifty dollars in tips. The night was just getting started.

 You glanced around the room as soon as the first rush died out. Everyone was distracted in some way. A group of guys watching a game on the couch by the tv. A few women sitting at a table, gossiping about their week and their husbands. Then there was a few loners sitting at the bar, sipping away at a beer or a glass of whiskey. Trying to unwind after the week. You wiped down the counter top.

 “Hey there,” a man greeted you, taking a seat at the counter right in front of you. His smile was wide as he placed his hands on the countertop.

 “What can I get for you?” you asked, taking a deep breath as you tucked your cloth back in your apron.

 “Your phone number for starters,” he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows twice. You wanted to scoff but you were working. You weren’t about to ruin Dean’s business because some guy decided to hit on you. Not to mention, he wasn’t that cute. A man like him would be just like the rest of them. They’d get off and you’d be left finishing yourself off in the shower. You weren’t doing that again.

 “Your drink order, sir?” you corrected him, trying to keep your tone in check.

 “Whiskey neat,” he stated. “And that phone number.”

 “Whiskey it is,” you declared, putting the glass down on the napkin in front of him. You reached for the bottle of whiskey behind you, knowing full well he was staring at your ass. He was treating you like you were easy and that wasn’t okay with you. You weren’t doing that anymore. No more shitty guys.

 “Don’t play hard to get, baby,” he frowned. “I saw you eyeing me the second I walked in here tonight.”

 “Enjoy your drink,” you said, your voice void of all emotions. You walked away from him, taking your cloth once more before heading out to the customers area to begin cleaning up empty glasses and bottles. Dean and Benny were still working behind the counter, serving people. It had slowed down a little more. They still had the odd person come up to them.

 You wiped down every table, gathering all the empties. You snapped back into bartender mode pretty quickly. It was something you had done for years during your college years. Dean ran a really nice bar. Everything was really clean, but you also had a feeling that his brother had something to do with it. You took note of what needed replenishing to bring it out during your next trip. You gathered up what you could, placing it on the bar to move to the back when you had the chance to. You wiped down your last table before heading to the back. You could feel the creepy guy’s eyes on you and that told you to move quicker.

 “Baby c’mere,” he cooed, standing up. Your heart began to pound in your chest. You needed to move quickly.

 “Not interested,” you stated clearly, backing away from him. He was a big guy now that you saw him compared to you. He was tall and had a strong build. His hand made its way down to your ass, tugging you into him against your will. You tried your hardest to shove him off of you, but he barely budged. “Get off of me!”

 “Hey! Hey!” Dean shouted, making his way around the bar. “Hands off of her. Now!”

 “We were just getting to know each other, right baby?” He smirked, tugging you in once more. Hearing him say those words only angered you more.

 You pushed him once more, successfully getting him off of you, but not getting as far as you would have liked. “Get the fuck off of me.”

 Dean stepped between you and the douchebag, getting in his face a little more. You could see it in the way his jaw clenched that he was pissed. When Dean was pissed, no one wanted to be near him.

 “House rules. Respecting others, especially women is the second on that list. Sexual harassment is unacceptable. Get the fuck out of my bar,” he warned him, “I’m not going to ask you again.”

 “Whatever, she’s a cheap piece of ass anyways,” he scoffed, throwing down a bill on the counter before grabbing his jacket, heading to the door.

 “You okay, sweetheart?” Dean asked as he turned to face you. His hand came up to the side of your head.

 “Yeah,” you nodded.

 “You want a drink,” he offered you, smiling softly.

 “No thank you. I’m good,” you smiled before heading around the back of the bar to finish cleaning up. You also knew you’d be safer behind the bar and that was where you wanted to be.

 “You sure, darlin’?” Benny raised his eyebrow. “I can make you a mean drink.”

 “I’m sure. I don’t drink,” you stated, placing the empty bottles in the bin.

 “Since when?” Dean furrowed his brows. “We got drunk together a few months back.”

 “Since whenever,” you shrugged.

 “I feel like there is more behind this then you’re leading on,” Benny side-eyed you with a bit of concern.

 “There is, but we’re dropping this now, okay?” you smiled, heading over to the counter to serve the next customer.

 As you handed the customer their drink, Sam walked into the bar. His hair was a bit of a mess and he looked to be in a bit of a rush. You stiffened a little. After all, Sam had to know all about you now. His mom had to have said something to him. He had always been nice to you, but that was back then. There was a whole other side to you and your family now. Sure, Sam was nice, but he wasn’t going to be happy you were here if he knew anything.

 “Hey,” Dean greeted his brother. “How’d it go?”

 “Good,” he smiled to himself. “Place is picked out and booked. We officially have a date.”

 “Don’t leave me in suspense, Sammy. Wedding date now,” Dean chuckled, wiping down a glass.

 “September 15th,” he grinned widely, reaching his hand up to the back of his head.

 “I’ll save the date,” he nodded with a big smile. “Congratulations, little brother!”

 “Thanks, De,” he shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

 You stood behind the bar awkwardly, not knowing if you should say something, or go do something else. You didn’t want to be in the way of him. This was his business too. You pulled your cloth back out, and decided to head back out to the floor to wipe down the tables again.  

 “Dean, what is she doing here?” you heard Sam say.

 “She’s helping us out because I asked her to,” Dean stated.

 “Dean, you know-”

 “Sam-”

 “No Dean, if mom or dad was to walk in right now, you’d be in so much shit,” he stated. That was your queue. You weren’t welcomed and you weren’t going to ruin a family business. You had no idea why you even agreed to in the first place. Mary told you that you were never going to be good enough for her family. Why did you think you’d be good enough to work at her son’s bar?

 “Sorry,” you breathed out, as you untied your apron. “I’m- I’m gonna go, Dean. I don’t want to ruin your business or your relationship with your family. You don’t have to pay me for tonight.”

 “Y/N, wait,” Dean called out as you began to walk away.

 “Dean, it’s cool,” you nodded, assuring him it was.

 “No, it’s not cool, Y/N. I invited you here tonight,” Dean declared, walking over to you. “My mom and dad don’t own this bar. Sammy and I do. I’ll tell you again. I don’t care who your mom is or was to my parents. I care about you and who you are to me. If Sammy has a problem with it, then he can stow it for tonight. You are welcome in this bar.” His hands made their way to your arms, holding you in place.

 “Dean, I’m not worth the trouble, okay?” you smiled weakly, pulling the few bills out of your pocket, handing them to him. “This is yours.”

 “No, they are yours. You earned them tonight. All tips are yours,” he stated.

 “Y/N, please stay,” Sam called out.

 “Please, sweetheart,” Dean pleaded, holding his hand out for you to take. “You’re off the clock. Just hang out with us for a little while. You said you needed to get out more.”

 “You want a drink Y/N?” Sam offered, grabbing a clean glass from beneath the counter.

 “Okay,” you nodded. “Water would be great.”

 “W-water?” Sam furrowed his brows.

 “She doesn’t drink,” Benny added in.

 “Ah, okay,” Sam nodded.

 You walked around the bar, taking a seat on the stool behind the bar. Sam placed a glass of water with a few ice cubes on the counter in front of you, giving you a soft smile. You knew he was trying to keep a smile on his face to keep you around for the night. It was forced at best.

 “So, no guy in your life right now, Y/N?” Benny questioned you. “You usually have someone-”

 “Nope, I don’t. Not right now,” you smiled at him, bringing your water up to your lips. Great, even Benny knew you got around, you thought to yourself.

 “You want someone? ‘Cause you know, I’m single and you’re-”

 “Benny, knock it off,” Dean warned him. “She doesn’t need another guy hitting on her tonight. House rules.”

 “What? ‘M I not good enough for you,” he teased playfully before serving the next customer.

 “You’re not my type,” you giggled. “My track record states that I only go for dicks. You’re a nice guy.”

 “So Y/N, I gotta ask,” Sam started, taking another stool, sitting close by. “I know you grew up with your mom-”

 “Sam,” Dean called out, his voice laced with a bit of anger.

 “It’s okay Dean,” you assured him.

 “Was it just you and your mom or was your dad ever around?” he questioned. You knew he was curious, and he didn’t seem to want to cause any harm to you. It was a simple question. Nothing you hadn’t been asked a hundred times before.

 “No. It was just me and my mom. I never knew my dad, in fact, I’ve never met him or know his name for that matter. My mom always told me he didn’t want anything to do with me and that was why he wasn’t around. He didn’t want me and that’s why it was the two of us. I have no idea who my dad is, or if he’s even alive at this point. I never knew anything about him,” you shared with him.

 “Were you ever curious?” Dean added in, stepping closer to you and Sam.

 “Yeah, of course I was. I grew up without a dad. The kids at school were terrible to me because I didn’t have one,” you began. “I mean, look at me now. I’m a mess ninety five percent of the time. I just wish my mom would’ve been straight with me. But at the same time, my mom slept around a lot. She had a new boyfriend every month. I doubt she even knew who my dad was.”

 “Do you think she was hiding it from you?” Sam brought up.

 “In some ways, yeah. I asked her when I was eighteen, before I left for college and she said there was no point. My dad was probably dead.”

 “If you ever wanted to find out more, Y/N, I’m sure I could do a little digging for you,” Sam offered you. It was a kind gesture but it wasn’t worth it.

 “I’m not worth that kind of trouble, Sam. I don’t want to cause any more issues with your family than I already have.”

 “Your mom’s issues weren’t your fault, sweetheart,” Dean reminded you.

 “Dean’s right, Y/N. What your mom did in the past has nothing to do with you. It bugs the hell out of my mom because you look like her. It’s still wrong that she treated you the way she did. You’re nothing like your mom,” Sam said with a sad smile. It was really nice to hear those words coming from Sam. Especially now that you were here. You didn’t want him to hate you like his family did.

 “Okay,” you breathed out. “I’m giving you the okay to take a look. It can’t hurt to find out my family history. And I’m curious as to what my mom hid from me all my life. But I don’t want to make any contact if we find out who it is.” In reality, it was probably good to find out in case you had a family history of cancer or something like that. It was too late now to ever have a father daughter relationship like you dreamed about when you were ten.

 “Deal. You are always welcome to change your mind later on, okay?”

 “Thank you,” you smiled softly at him. “Means a lot to me that you want to do this.”

 “Well well, look who decided to show up for work,” Dean greeted the two people as they walked in.

 “I thought you were short tonight, De?” you furrowed your brows.

 “Chuck and Cas work later so we can go home at a decent hour,” he told you. Both of them walked behind the bar, settling their stuff underneath the cash.

 “Hey,” a man with curly-ish hair greeted you. “I’m Chuck.”

 “Y/N,” you waved at him.

 “So uh, how you doin’?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

 “Chuck,” Dean warned him, shaking his head.

 “Oh shit, sorry. Is she your-”

 “No she’s not my girlfriend. She’s my best friend,” he stated, earning a chuckle from both you and Sam. Dean was very protective over you, and you actually kind of liked that he was.

 “Oh god, that’s worse,” he breathed out sheepishly. “It was very nice to meet you, Y/N.”

 “You ready to head out, Y/N?” Dean offered with a smile.

 “God, yes please!” you beamed, hopping off your stool.

 “I’ll grab your number from Dean,” Sam nodded, giving you a wink. Dean grabbed his jacket as you circled around the bar for the last time. You couldn’t wait to go home and change into your pyjamas. You couldn’t wait to be in the privacy of your apartment so you could finally unwind for the night.

 Dean followed behind you as you lead the way to the impala. It was just after eleven when you looked at the clock in the impala as Dean started her up. It was a long night, and some parts of it sucked, but for the most part, you were glad you did it with Dean there. His friends were also nice people to be around so that certainly helped.

 “You did good tonight,” he smiled at you as he turned out of the parking lot.

 “What can I say, I’m an ex bartender,” you chuckled. “Thanks for asking me to come out tonight.”

 “You’re welcome,” he nodded.

 “If you’re up for it, you wanna hang out at my place for a bit?” you asked him. “Only if you want to.”

 “Yeah, I’d love to,” he agreed.

 It was almost eleven thirty by the time you arrived at your front door with the keys in your hand. Dean stood right behind you, keeping a close distance. You figured after that creepy guy at the bar tonight, he was keeping you close in case something was to happen. You really did enjoy how protective he was of you. He had been ever since that day the two of you made up. It was nice to have someone want to keep you safe from harms way.

 You threw your keys on the counter as soon as you walked in. Dean locked the door behind him and kicked off his shoes on the front mat. You leaped onto the couch, flopping down on your back, earning a laugh from your best friend.

 “Long night, huh?” he said as he sat down next to you.

 “Very! I love being hit on by creepy guys. It’s my favourite,” you joked, moving up to a sitting position to give him more room on the couch. Your couch was big enough for two people to sleep on, but Dean just had to sit close to you.

 “You used to enjoy guys like that,” he teased you.

 “Eh, I wouldn’t say I enjoyed them. I prefer guys with a little more respect. Not guys that grope my ass in a crowded bar while I’m working,” you breathed out. “I don’t know. Lately I haven’t been interested.”

 “In what?” he cocked his head to the side, looking over at you.

 “Dating. Men in general,” you shrugged, leaning against the arm of the couch. “Too much to focus on and I’m a mess most days.”

 “Not even sex for you?” he questioned.

 “Eh,” you smirked. “I’ve got my own ways of handling things in that department. It’s not like any of the guys I slept with before knew what they were doing. I’m just not wasting my time.”

 “Good,” he grinned. “You deserve better than that.”

 “What about you, Winchester? You’re nearly as bad as I am for taking random people home,” you pointed out.

 “Not as of recently,” he confessed, looking down at his hands. “Part of it is how busy I’ve been. No one has really caught my eye. Everyone these days are dating, and settling down. After Cassie, I don’t really want to date right now. Especially since she left things open for when she gets back.”

 “I don’t blame you,” you nodded. “Would you get back together with her if she were to show up at your door right now?”

 “Deep question there, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from her since we broke up. Not even an email. If she were to knock on my door, I don’t think I could just settle back in like nothing happened.”

 “That’s understandable,” you nodded. “At least you’ve moved on a little. We slept together.”

 “You’re the last person I slept with,” he admitted.

 “You’re my last too,” you nodded. “We’re doing awesome. Although, I certainly can’t complain. You were damn good. You kept up your end of the bargain beautifully.”

 “Well, technically I owe you one for tonight,” he joked with a smirk. “I know how to drive a good bargain.”

 “I’m down if you are,” you wiggled your eyebrows with a soft smile.

 “Actually?” he cocked his eyebrow.

 “What’s the harm?” you shrugged. “Not like we haven’t before.”

 “I’m definitely in if you are,” he nodded. “No pressure at all. Only if you want to.”

 “You’re too nice to me, you know that?” you smiled at him as you moved over. You threw your leg over his legs, settling down over his lap. His hands instantly reached for your waist as his eyes went wide.

 “I wouldn’t say nice,” he breathed out. “I just care ‘bout you is all.”

 “Well, thank you. I really appreciate that you care,” you smiled. “I care ‘bout you too.”

 “Alright, this is getting too chick flicky for my liking,” he stated, leaning forward. He captured your lips with his in a soft, heated kiss that had you instantly craving more. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders tugging yourself closer to him as your tongue slipped over his bottom lip.

 His hands reached beneath your flannel, pushing the material over your shoulders in record time. You had a feeling this was going to happen fast. It was late after all, and you both had been working since nine this morning. It was going to be a quickie at best and that was more than okay with you. A quick fix to make you both feel good and that would be enough to put you to sleep right away.

 “You’re sure about this?” Dean asked you, pulling away a little.

 “Yes, more than sure,” you breathed out, pushing his flannel over his shoulders. “No foreplay this time.”

 “Got it,” he nodded. “Just a quickie?”

 “Quickie then bed,” you smile at him.

 “Roger that,” he agreed, tugging the hem of your shirt up your body, throwing it to the floor. You did the exact same to his, tearing it off of him as quickly as you could. He bucked his hips up to yours, and you could feel the bulge of him already. The thought of having him once more sent heat pooling in your core.

 You climbed off of his lap, toying with the button on your jeans before shoving them down your legs along with your panties. Dean unbuckled his belt, making quick work of removing his jeans and boxers, pushing them down his legs. His hard cock standing proud between his legs. Fuck, was he perfect.

 “Condom?” you asked him.

 “Wallet,” he nodded, reaching down to his jeans, pulling out the leather pouch. He opened it up, taking the foil packet from his wallet. You stepped forward, straddling him as he opened the packet with his teeth, taking the rubber out. You watched as he took his cock in his hand, rolling the condom down over himself. You reached behind your back, removing the final article of clothing from your body to reveal yourself to him once more.

 “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he smiled softly at you.

 “Dean,” you grinned, shaking your head.

 “You are,” he shrugged. “I like that I’m the one you went home with tonight after all the guys that hit on you.”

 “Thank you,” you half smiled. “You’re sexy as hell.”

 “Hell doesn’t sound all that sexy,” he teased you.

 “Shut up, Winchester,” you giggled. “Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

 “Please,” he chuckled.

 “Then ask me nicely,” you played, wanting to test him just a little.

 “Y/N, will you please let me put my dick inside you?” he let out a laugh, not able to keep a straight face through the entire sentence, making you laugh along with him.

 “I can’t believe you actually asked,” you cackled.

 “Shut up,” he shook his head, trying not to laugh more than he already had. “The things I do for you.”

 “Hey, the way to a girl’s heart is through humor, Winchester,” you pointed out.

 “Yeah yeah,” he scoffed. “Alright, I’m going to touch you now. Make sure you’re ready for me.”

 “By all means,” you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. His right hand came down between your legs, his middle finger brushing through your folds to see if you were ready enough for him. You knew you were more than ready to take him. The mere sight of him had you ready to go. The kissing certainly helped you get there too. He was a damn good kisser.

 “Fuck, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You’re sure?”

 “Yes,” you nodded. “You’re sure?”

 “I am,” he agreed. “Whenever you’re ready.”

 You balanced yourself on his shoulders, moving up his body to get ready. You reached one of your hands down, taking his cock before lining it up with your entrance. Your eyes met with his as you positioned the tip in place. He nodded his head, not daring to break the eye contact you held. You let yourself sync down on him, slow and steady. His eyes fluttered shut as you surrounded him in your heat.

 “Fuck, Y/N,” he breathed out as he bottomed out inside you. You could feel him twitching a little as your walls grew accustomed to him. He finally opened his eyes, meeting yours as a smile played on his lips. He slipped his hands around your back, ready to help you move on him.

 “You feel amazing, De,” you told him, leaning forward, pressing your forehead to his.

 You made yourself more comfortable before beginning to move on him. He repositioned himself beneath you, making it easier for you to ride him, and for him to meet you halfway. As you sank down on him, he thrusted upwards. His grip was tight on you, keeping you close to him. He felt amazing inside of you. Hell, almost better than he did the first time. From this angle, his cock brushed over all the sensitive spots, getting you there a little bit faster than you were expecting him to.

 His lips trailed on your neck, making your fingers curl in his shoulders. Your walls fluttered around him at the sensation. You brought your hand up to his hair, carding through his soft locks as you continued to bounce on him.

 “Shit Dean,” you cried out.

 “Feels so good,” he muttered, pulling away from your neck. “So close.”

 “Faster,” you urged him on.

 His hands slipped down to your ass, pulling you closer to him. He shifted quickly, your back hitting the couch as he fit between your legs. He snapped his hips against yours, picking up the pace to get you both there. One of his hands reached between your bodies, toying with your clit to heighten your pleasure.

 “Dean, Dean, Dean,” you moaned. Your grip tightened around his shoulders, desperate to grab onto something to keep you grounded. You were panting profusely. You felt the tightness growing in your abdomen. You were so damn close.

 “Come for me, sweetheart,” he urged you on. “Let me feel you.”

 Your walls came crashing down around him as you let out a wanton moan. Your eyes fluttered shut as you threw your head back, letting the pleasure course it’s way through your body. Your fingers curled into his back, trying to hold onto something to keep you from floating away. Your vision went white and your body began to shake just enough for you to notice.

 “Atta girl,” he encouraged you as he bucked his hips into yours. You knew he was damn close to the edge. He just needed that final push.

 “Feels so good, De,” you whispered, trailing your shaky hand up into his hair. “Come for me, Dean.”

 “Shit-” he growled, picking up his pace just a little more. He gave three hard thrusts before his cock twitched. His seed filling the condom before he collapsed on top of you, letting out a breath.

 Your hand carded through his hair, playing with his soft locks as you both came down from your highs. You turned your head, looking at the time on the clock above your tv. It was just after twelve fifteen. You knew you had to get up and get ready for bed.  

 “I just realized we did that with the curtains open,” you giggled, glancing over at the big open window.

 “Well shit,” he let out a laugh. “I hope they enjoyed the show.”

 “We should get up,” you told him. “Get ready for bed.”

 “Yeah,” he breathed out, shifting himself up. He reached down, grabbing the base of his cock to remove himself with care.

 You were the first one off the couch, leaving your clothes on the floor. You headed into your bedroom, going straight to the bathroom. Dean wasn’t far behind you, throwing the used condom into the trash in your bathroom.

 “Uh, you’re welcome to stay if you want to,” you offered him. “Or you can go, whichever you want to do.”

 “Whichever you’re more comfortable with. I don’t want to overstep,” he stated, taking a step back.

 “We literally just had sex,” you reminded him. “I don’t know what would even be considered overstepping at this point.”

 “True,” he chuckled.

 “Well, if you’d like to stay, there is an extra toothbrush in my drawer and boxers in the top drawer in my bedroom,” you told him with a soft smile. “I’m going to shower to get the smell of sex and alcohol off of me. If you want to do the same, you know where the towels are.”

 “Alright,” he nodded, turning towards the shower. You watched as he turned the nozzle, setting it on hot. “You shower first and I’ll clean up out there.

 Dean was out of the bathroom, giving you a bit of privacy. You shut the door a little, giving yourself the comfort of being alone to do what you needed to do. You went to the bathroom before slipping into the shower.

 The water was the perfect temperature for you to clean yourself up. You were just going to have a quick shower to wash your body. You could wash your hair in the morning. You just wanted to feel clean. You had the feeling Dean was staying with you tonight, and you weren’t against it persay. You didn’t want him getting the wrong idea. You weren’t looking for a relationship. You hoped it was just sex for him. That you could handle with ease. You didn’t want to do the whole ‘feelings’ thing. Not with your best friend. Sleepovers were normal for friends. Two friends could have sex without it being weird. There was nothing wrong with casual sex.

 You washed your body quickly. You could feel yourself getting more and more tired the more you stood under the stream. You just wanted to get out, brush your teeth and head to bed. Nothing more.

 The water shut off and you stepped out onto the mat you had set out. You wrapped your towel around yourself, making sure it was tight. The mirror was all steamy, and you could barely see. Not that it was going to stop you from brushing your teeth.

 “Dean, you’re good,” you called out, reaching for your toothbrush. The bathroom door opened, revealing Dean in his boxers and nothing else. He was quiet as he went about, gathering what he needed to shower. You tried your hardest to keep your eyes off of him while he moved around.

 He hopped in the shower as soon as you finished brushing your teeth. The mirror was just starting to clear when you turned away, giving Dean the privacy he deserved. You noticed as soon as you were in your bedroom that Dean had thrown your clothes in the laundry hamper. His clothes were set on the chair in the corner of your room, folded nicely.

 You grabbed the first pair of panties from your drawer, and an oversized shirt to wear to bed. You could feel yourself starting to overthink this. You didn’t want anything to change between you and Dean. You didn’t see him as anything other than your best friend. You didn’t want to date him. You didn’t want a boyfriend or a serious relationship for that matter. You didn’t want him to get the wrong impression.

 You got dressed quickly, throwing the comforter back, slipping beneath the sheets. You heard the water turn off, which meant it was only a matter of time before he was joining you in bed. You lay on your back, adjusting the covers over your chest.

 Dean emerged from the bathroom in a pair of clean boxers, shutting the light out. He circled around the bed, following the same steps. He joined you in the bed, resting on his back, looking up at the ceiling.

 “You tired?” he asked you.

 “Now that the lights are out, not really,” you chuckled. “You?”

 “No not really,” he let out a laugh. “That was fun.”

 “It was. And I’m not usually for being on top,” you admitted with a half smile.

 “Why this time?” he questioned, turning his head to look your direction.

 “I don’t know. I guess I feel a little more comfortable around you. I’m not as nervous about some things, like the way I look for example,” you confessed.

 “You’re beautiful,” he said with a laugh. “Hell, I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

 “What, like that?”

 “That. And sex in general,” he shrugged. “I’ve got what is probably not a good idea. But you said that you’re not looking to date anyone. I’m not ready to date anyone. We’re best friends and speaking from previous experiences one and two, sex is great between us. You’re comfortable with me, and I’m comfortable with you. Why don’t we continue sleeping together? You know, get each other off, try some new things?”

 “Like a friends with benefits kind of thing?” you inquired, furrowing your brows.

 “Yeah I guess so,” he breathed out.

 “How is that going to work, Dean?” you turned to face him. “It literally never works. There are too many rules, and someone always gets hurt in the end.”

 “Not if we don’t let it,” he reminded you.

 “Fair point. If we’re going this, and that’s a big if, Dean. I don’t want stupid rules and shit, okay? Friends who have sex, try new things; whatever. Nothing about our friendship changes,” you declared.

 “Done deal. I can agree to those terms,” he nodded.

 “Good. I’m all for sex, but as soon as something goes sideways, of gets complicated, I’m out, okay?” you breathed out.

 “More than okay,” he smiled at you. “Now, are you going to deny me after sex cuddling?”

 “We had sex like half an hour ago,” you scoffed playfully.

 “Friends are allowed to cuddle, you know,” he reminded you. “It’s not going to hurt you.”

 “Fine,” you shook your head. “You’re big spoon though.”

 “Turn around then,” he smirked.

 You turned over, trying to make yourself comfortable on your side of the bed. Dean slipped his arm around your middle, his chest pressing against your back. You let yourself melt into him, feeling safe in his hold. You knew for a fact that he was going to keep the nightmares away tonight.  

 Maybe after sex cuddling wasn’t so bad after all.

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

Part 5 coming Tuesday!

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Any theories? Please share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Nothing is stupid! I WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU! Your response is the ONLY thing keeping me sharing this story!

Dean Babes

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Owe You One

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[wincestismyguiltypleasure]

Warnings: Weecest, a little angsty, jealous!Sam, bratty, emotional, and confused baby brother content, feminization, name calling, humiliation, sadist!Dean, spankings, and of course, that sweet, sweet fucked up codependency. 💋

--------------

Sam just wanted Dean's attention. He always had.

And when he didn't get it, Sam felt not only emotionally, but physically injured by his brother's "neglect." Like Dean had taken his switchblade to Sam's heart, cutting it open just a little bit to play with it. As if he was curious to what was inside. Like Dean had no clue know that every vein, artery, and nerve worked in unison for him.

And over the years, that small wound had ripped open wider and wider on it's own, even though it was no secret that Dean's life had always revolved around Sam.

Perhaps it was a product of Sam's jealousy? His resentment towards John and the unshakable devotion Dean showed him?

Sam didn't really know. But no matter the cause, what was once a dull ache in Sam's chest was now a blinding pain. The only hope of soothing it resting solely on his big brother's touch.

And the worst part about it? Dean knew. He knew Sam was desperate for something so simple as a sideways glance or a pat on the back. Sam would poke and prod and tug at the hem of Dean's shirt for just the slightest bit of recognition, like he really didn't know that he was already the very center of his big brother's entire world.

It was infuriating sometimes, and it made Dean want to be cruel just to prove a point. Besides, at the end of the day, Dean was still Sam's big brother. Ignoring him was part of Dean's job description. And maybe, just maybe, Dean got a sick sense of satisfaction out of making Sammy beg like a slut for something that was already his.

"Dean, c'mon! Pay attention!"

John had only been gone for ten minutes before Sam was shaking Dean's leg violently, trying to make his brother look up from the magazine he was reading.

"Jesus Christ, Sam. Can't you leave me alone for five fucking seconds?"

Dean doesn't have to see Sam's face to know the younger boy is pouting; the corner of his lips turning up in a twisted smirk at the thought of his little brother's pretty eyes starting to water.

There's no answer to Dean's question, just a loud huff and the sound of the bathroom door slamming, rusty screws barely keeping it on the hinges.

And if Dean didn't get such a kick out of being an asshole to his needy little brother he might have felt bad for hurting Sam's feelings. But he doesn't, mainly because this was all part of the sick, fucked up game they'd been playing since Sam had turned sixteen. This volatile give and take, back and forth, born out of Sam's misguided pain. The younger boy thinking that Dean loved John more than him and Dean's cutthroat determination to prove his little brother wrong. To show Sam that even if he isn't looking, he's still paying attention. And that he couldn't stop paying attention to Sam even if he tried.

Honestly, Dean still gets a little hot under the collar thinking about the first Sammy pushed his buttons like this. He'd been both mortified and so disgustingly turned on when he found out that his sweet baby brother knew just how to act bratty and coy to get fucked through the mattress. God, Dean was so pissed and guilty about it at the time that he'd almost thrown up afterwards.

Even now, Dean feels kinda queasy. But the feeling is so simple to ignore this go around because he's also rock hard and shaking a little from the anticipation.

Oh, and of course, Sam makes him wait. Almost two fucking hours. Tiny beads of water still dripping from the younger boy's long, dirty blonde hair when Sam finally emerges from the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of lacy blue panties and a triumphant smile.

"Seriously, Samuel?" Dean asks, trying his best to keep his voice steady as he tosses his magazine to the side and sits up.

But Sam, being the shameless little tease that he is, just grins wider and does a slow turn. Making sure to show off every sharp curve and flawless inch of sun kissed skin he had before looking over at Dean and giggling.

"Think you can ignore me now, big brother?"

Sam barely gets the words out before Dean is off the bed, marching over to him with purpose, not stopping until the two of them are only a few inches apart and his baby brother's eyes are wide with fear.

"What do you want, Sam?" The older boy asks through gritted teeth, even though the answer is so painfully obvious.

And even though it is, Sam can't say it. He's never been able to because it's Dean's job to know. Without Dean guiding the way, Sam's just a confused kid with a need so intense and overwhelming that it could swallow him whole. And it would, if it wasn't for Dean.

Dean knows what Sam wants, and Sam hates the fact that he doesn't hate his brother for making him feel this way.

But still, he can't talk and he can't explain, so instead Sam just whines. Taking a timid step forward into his brother's personal space, searching for pity with those big innocent doe eyes. And fuck, does that do the trick. Every. Single. Time.

"What, baby?" Dean asks again, this time softer, his expression lightening as he grabs Sam by the wrist to pull him closer.

"Dean."

Sam's knees feel wobbly. His heart threatening to pound out of his chest because there's nothing in the world more intoxicating and simultaneously terrifying than looking into Dean's gorgeous green eyes when they're full of rage and passion.

"You want this?" Dean's voice is rough, like cigarette smoke blown over shattered glass as he guides Sam's trembling hand between his thighs. Pressing his little brother's warm palm hard against his erection before he makes Sam squeeze just a little, the both of them letting out a breathy groan.

"Please Dean," Sam whimpers, knees nearly buckling when Dean leans forward with a filthy grin, cherry red lips ghosting lightly over Sam's. The older boy teasing him like he always did. Pretending like wasn't eventually going to give Sam everything he wanted and more.

"Say it."

Sam's stomach clenches at the command, throat going dry because he hates this part. (Or at least Sam pretends that he does.)

"I want..." Sam groans, eyes closed tight as Dean nuzzles against him, making Sam go crazy with need. "I want your cock. Please Dean."

When Sam hears Dean chuckle, a low, filthy sound that makes his insides feel unbearably hot, Sam almost starts crying again. He's so naive and inexperienced compared to Dean. And Dean knows Sam feels like an idiot when his big brother makes him talk dirty. Which is exactly why he does it. The bastard.

"I know you do, baby boy," Dean laughs as he takes a step back, and Sam swears he feels his heart detach and drop into his stomach. Long, bony fingers instinctively trying to curl around Dean's shirt but to no avail.

"Dean-"

Sam's temper tantrum is cut short when Dean sits down on the foot of the bed and raises a hand, the look on his face calm but dangerous and it makes Sam almost swallow his own tongue.

"C'mere and lay across my lap."

"Why should I?"

Sam's voice doesn't sound like his own when he challenges his brother. It's weak and breathless and honestly, Sam can't believe an apex predator like Dean didn't go for his throat right then and there.

"You've been buckin' for my attention all day, sweetheart. You got a better way to get it?"

God, Sam wishes he did because the last thing he wants is to give in so easily. But what Sam's been dying for is right here in front of him now. Ripped jeans wrapped tight around thick thighs that he'd sell his soul to be bent over and Sam isn't about to turn down an open invitation.

"Gotta hand it to you, little brother," Dean says when Sam's finally stretched out across his lap. Sam's pretty face, flushed and tear stained, hidden in the mattress as Dean starts to soflty rub circles against his ass. "Despite all that fuss, you really are an obdient little bitch."

"Fuc-"

Sam nearly gags on his insult when he feels Dean's palm, rough and warm, connect with his right ass cheek. The blow hard enough to make his whole body jerk, tears of frustration rather than pain starting to blur his vision as he squirms in Dean's lap.

"Dean, please," Sam begs, his tight panties completely soaked through as he rubs himself desperately against Dean's thigh. His cock so hard and swollen that he feels a little dizzy, pleasure and pain fighting for dominance in his mind. Every one of his nerve endings on fire as Dean continues his ruthless assault. Each gentle touch followed by a thunderous smack that Sam swears makes his teeth rattle.

"Hey, don't cry, baby boy," Dean whispers when one of his rough blows finally rips a sob from Sam's throat. "This is what you wanted right? My undivided attention?"

Sam chokes back the urge to tell Dean that he hates him. One, because he doesn't. They both know that. And two, because if Sam doesn't swallow his pride soon and play by Dean's rules, he knows he'll never get want he really wants. That's what all this is about after all. Sam's insatiable need and Dean's absolute willingness to provide.

"C'mon, Sammy. You're a smart kid, you know what your answer should be."

Sam's only response is a loud, wanton groan, his knuckles turning chalk white around the blanket beneath him when he feels the tip of Dean's finger, rough and slick with spit, tease his rim. Pressing just hard enough to make Sam's hips jerk, but not applying quite enough pressure to slip inside him.

"Yes," Sam croaks, daring to push back against his brother's finger only to be rewarded with a smack to his right ass cheek that makes him see stars. "This is what I wanted."

"I know it is, slut."

Dean's finger feels wetter this time, hotter. And Sam's not expecting his brother to push in so deep, his eyes rolling back in pleasure when Dean barely grazes his prostate, clearly torturing Sam for all the shit he'd put him through that day. An eye for an eye was most definitely the Winchester way.

"You want me to finger fuck this tight little pussy until you make a mess all over your cute panties, don't ya baby boy?"

"Yes! Fuck Dean please." Sam isn't even trying to hold back his sobs now, big salty tears rolling down his cheeks as he wiggles around in Dean's lap. Desperate for his big brother to fuck him deeper. But before he can get the leverage he needs, Sam's empty again, mouth hanging open as Dean's next blow makes his whole body rock forward involuntary, neglected cock throbbing painfully against the worn denim of his brother's jeans.

"I'll give you want you want, Sammy," Dean coos, caressing Sam's battered skin with his palm. "I always do. But first, I'm gonna teach you a lesson about acting like a brat."

Of course, Sam's been taught this lesson before and it hasn't seemed to stick. But it doesn't matter, because they both know as long as Sam craves his big brother's attention, Dean will gladly put him in his place give it to him.

[kahlsflannel]

The Transfer

Hiiii!! So here’s another little one-shot with the dynamic duo. We finally get somewhere in this one!! I hope you all enjoy it :) Also any italics are Bucky’s thoughts!!

Word Count: 1.3K

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: A little bit of language? Just a lil bit. The word “tits” pops up? Don’t read if u don’t like that stuff please!

•·················•·················•

Bucky had finally typed out a full report on time, on the computer, may he add. He pressed the "share" button and jumped up from his desk. Heavy footsteps carried him to her room, a swift knock, and a grin on his face. When he was greeted with silence, the smile dropped. He knocked again, and waited for a few more seconds before turning his heels to go find Sam.

"Friday? Where's Wilson?"

"The gymnasium, Mr.Barnes." Bucky stepped into the elevator, tapping his foot on the floor. Multiple stopped the cart on the trip down to step on, causing the man to make a fist around the long sleeves of his hoodie. When he finally made it to the main floor, he jogged into the gym, slightly out of breath by the time he spotted his target.

"Sammy!" Bucky made his way over to the man who was currently doing push-ups, and tugged at the wire that held his earbuds in place. Sam turned around, sighing as he saw the lost puppy look on his best friends face. "Have you seen (Y/N)?" What Bucky didn't know was that Sam had been avoiding him for the past half hour to dodge that exact question.

"Oh uh, yeah. She's.." he paused, arm reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "She's on a date or something with the transfer. Knows him from her time in England or something. She'll be back soon, I think." Bucky's heart dropped. He thought they were getting somewhere. Ever since she had cut his hair, touches and gazes lingered a little longer, and her words were just a little more sweet when directed towards the super soldier.

"Oh," Bucky managed to push out, ignoring the sting that had began in the lower part of his chest. "A date, really?" he spoke in a soft tone, eyes glancing up to catch Sam's.

"I uh, I don't know. She said they were going to catch up over drinks, but she was dressed pretty nice so I assumed it was a date. Sorry, man." Sam winced slightly as Bucky's eyes dropped down to his shoes, sighing loudly.

"Alright, thanks Sam. I'm gonna go back to my room." He turned on his heels, shoving his hands into the pocket on the front of his sweatshirt. I can't believe it, he thought as he stepped into the elevator once more, leaning his head back against the wall. Just as the doors shut, however, he caught the sound of her voice, soft and slightly annoyed as she spoke to who he presumed was the infamous transfer. Bucky was suddenly happy that the doors had shut. The trip up was almost as long as the previous trip down. When Bucky stepped foot onto his floor, she was already walking down the hall, followed by a lanky guy with long brown hair. They must've taken the stairs.

Jokes on him, she prefers the short hair.

"James!" She jogged up, grabbing his arm and smiling warmly at him. It almost broke Bucky's growing anger, but when the man walked up and smirked at him, it bubbled back. On a closer look, he was a few inches shorter than Bucky, and had brown eyes that shone strangely bright in the light of the hallway. "This is Pete Harris. He's here for a few months as a transfer from our branch in England." A hand was stuck out to Bucky, slightly shaking.

Good, he seems intimidated.

"Pete Harris, charmed." Bucky internally gagged at the introduction, taking his hand in a brusing grip.

"James Barnes." He knew he was being short, but the look on the man's face made it all worth it. They stayed with their hands interlocked, eyes squinted in a silent battle over the woman in front of them. It was her voice that finally pulled both men from their show of dominance, Pete withdrawing his hand first.

I win, douche.

"Alright well, Pete your room is a few floors up. This is the floor for permanent residents so you won't be here again. Friday will restrict your access and such. Let me take you there. James, I'll talk to you a little later, yeah?" He nodded, sighing loudly as he watched her take Pete back to the elevator. Bucky puffed out the air he was holding in his chest and made the sad trek back to his room.

•·················•·················•

It was half an hour later that a soft knock sounded through his room.

"Night owl? Can I come in?" Bucky groaned, shoving a pillow over his head to try and block out her voice. It didn't work however, because she continued to talk and he continued to listened. "Listen, hun, I'm sorry. I should have told you I was gonna be out with him. He's just a douche who felt he was entitled a catch up and Fury made me say yes to keep the peace or some bullshit. I really had a bad time so I ordered us two slices of cheesecake from that one place down the street, if you'll let me come in and bash the dude." Bucky shot up out of bed, making his way to the door as fast as possible. When he opened it, she held out the cardboard container, a smile resting on her features. "Sorry?"He smiled, engulfing her frame in a hug, careful to avoid any mishaps with the dessert he was promised.

"It's okay. You don't owe me any explanation, I shouldn't have been upset. Let's go eat and you can tell me what was bad about it, okay?" she nodded against his chest, and grinned at him as he ushered her in.

•·················•·················•

When they finally settled in, she had situated herself on the left side of his bed, heels discarded on the floor and legs tucked underneath her. Bucky laid out beside her, pressing buttons on the remote to play the show they'd recently started watching.

"So they guys a douche?" Bucky asked as he took a bite of the cheesecake. She scoffed around her fork and rolled her eyes.

"The entire time he just kept commenting on my appearance, things that I have no control over. It was terrible. He told me I had, and I quote 'okay tits but he's seen better' as soon as we sat down? Like who the fuck does that?" Bucky fumed with anger, stabbing his fork into the cream.

"Fuck that guy, you have amazing tits." Blush immediately peppered Bucky's cheek as she laughed, putting a soft hand on the side of his face, thumb rubbing at the budding stubble.

"Thank you, James. I'm glad you think so."  The touch was gone just as soon as it was there, and her attention was focused back upon the screen. Bucky sat his cake on the nightstand and turned to face her, making awkward eye contact with her when she glanced back at him. "What's up? Is there something on my face?" Bucky shook his head with wide eyes, before glancing down to his hands.

"I'm really sorry he said those things to you. You're the prettiest thing I've ever met, and I've been around for a real long time. I really hope you don't believe him because he's just an asshole who can't handle women who have as much power as you. You're perfect just the way you are." Tears suddenly welled up in her eyes, and she placed her cheesecake down in the same way Bucky had. (Y/N) clambered over to sit right beside him, hands cupping his cheeks before pressing her lips gently to his. When they pulled back, she rested her forehead against his own.

"You are a remarkable man, James Barnes."

•·················•·················•

AHHHH THEY FINALLY FUCKING KISSED. I WAS SO READY TO MAKE THIS SHIT HAPPEN AND IT DID THANK GOODNESS. 

[noladyme]

Chess. Chapter 4

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

TW: violence, blood, language

I was taken to a shower room. With no other exit than the door we came in through, it seemed the Tweedles felt it would be safe enough to leave me alone in there.

I showered for an eternity. The water was hardly warm, and it smelled moldy in the room, but I didn’t care. I let the water run over me, scrubbed every inch of my body with a bar of soap on a string. I ran my hand down my injured ribs, and winced at the pain. Remembering Flags hand touching that same spot but an hour before, I smiled to myself. His touch then had been gentle, and my mind wandered into a more pleasant direction. A bang on the door interrupted my train of thought.

“Finish up!”, a voice called. I turned off the water.

A clean set of clothes had been laid out. Another tank top, this one not cut into pieces, a clean set of underwear, and a pair of orange pants, with much too long legs for me. I folded them up, to right bellow my knees, and finally put on the slip-on shoes that completed the outfit.

Calling out, I let the twins know I was ready.

After eating the mac’n’cheese and jello that was pushed through the hatch in the door, I slept deeper than I ever had, on the small cot that had appeared in my cell, while I was being questioned – or recruited, I wasn’t sure which it was. The last thing I saw before drifting of, was loose wire hanging from the corner of the ceiling, where the thermal camera had once been. I wasn’t being watched anymore.

---

I woke up to the sound of the door being unlocked; I sprang up from where I had been laying, fully awake, and on high alert. Two guards stepped in to the room. Not Flags men.

What the fuck is this?, I panicked, and took a stance, preparing for a fight.

Grabbing me by the wrists, they spun me around, locking my arms behind me. They held me like this, as Griggs stepped into the room, and looked me up and down.

“You look even better clean, puss”, he leered at me.

I lifted my knee, and stomped down onto the foot of the guard to my right. Letting go of my arm, he yelped; and I swung my arm, punching Griggs in the face.

Covering his mouth with a scream, he then slapped me hard, making my ears ring.

“You goddamn bitch”, he said, blood running from his busted lip. I laughed at him; and made to get another hit in, when the second guard holding me, kicked me behind my knee; making me lose balance, and topple over.

Laying face down on the ground, someone put a knee on my back, holding me down, as my ankles and wrists were put in cuffs. Spewing all of the worst profanities I knew, I then twisted my neck, biting at the guard holding down my shoulders. I narrowly missed him, and another hand held my head down, making my forehead meet the concrete.

“Watch it, dumbass. We need her whole!”, Griggs spat. He pulled a sack over my head.

They carried me like this, down the corridor, as I screamed and cussed. This isn’t supposed to happen, I thought. Where’s Flag? Waller, even?.

I hadn’t officially accepted Wallers “offer” of joining her circus. Was this payback for my little stunt yesterday? Was I being sent back to Gotham? Or were they taking me somewhere to end my suffering.

A sharp pain in my ribs – from a boot, I figured – made me consider whether euthanasia wouldn’t be a kinder fate.

A door opening and closing behind us. The temperature changed. The air was damp, and the sack on my head stuck to my skin, making it difficult to breathe.

I heard the sound of a gate opening. “Freak transport”, Griggs voice called. Laughing.

Another door. I was made to stand, and my feet were uncuffed. I heard the sound of hip hop music. More musical torture? Metallic clanking, and I was pushed forward harshly, almost falling over.

“Get that shit of her”, Flags voice said. Thank God.

“Careful. This one has sharp teeth”, Griggs said; and someone pulled the sack of my head.

Blinking, adjusting to the light; I examined the room. About 100 yards deep, 50 yards wide. From the looks of it, an old indoor basketball court. My calculations turned out to be right, as a tall, dark man, wearing the same outfit as my own, was shooting hoops at the end of the room, never missing one throw. He turned in my direction, and looked at me, then Griggs busted lip, and laughed to himself.

In one corner a large figure, wearing a hoodie, sat with his back to me, watching BET on a small flat screen. In another, a man covered from head to toes in tattoos – I could tell, as he wasn’t wearing a shirt, or shoes – was doing pushups.

Flag walked up from behind me, staring me down.

“Welcome to the gym”. He took out a set of keys, and uncuffed my hands. “I can handle it from here”, he said to Griggs.

“Are you sure, sir? She seems cranky”, Griggs answered, and put his hand on the gun in his belt.

“I’m sure, asshole. If we need anything, I’ll let you know. Now get”.

“Dick”, Griggs muttered, and walked out the large door we had come through. The metallic sound started, and then made a last large clank, as it shut behind him and his guards.

Flag examined my face, and stroked his fingers across the small cuts on my forehead, from my former spat with the guards.

“You need to be careful, kitten. I won’t always be around; so if you piss them off again, I might not be able to help you”.

“You weren’t there to help me this time, and I made out fine on my own”, I retorted.

Flag moved his hand down to my belly, looking at the blood on my top, lightly touching it.

“I can see that”, he said, removed his hand, and continued. “You ripped your stitches”.

“I’m fine”, I pouted.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is our newest team member”, Flag called out. “Y/N Y/L/N. Also known as Chess”.

The man with the basketball, turned around, and made a final throw over his shoulder; and the ball went straight into the hoop, then bounced away across the floor.

The tattooed man stopped his workout, and walked towards us.

“Croc, did you hear me? Get your ass over here”, Flag shouted.

The large figure turned of his television, got up, and walked towards us, pulling the hood off his head. For a second, I was tempted to run, or even do something as embarrassing as hide behind Flag. The tall mans face was covered in what looked like scales; and it took me a hot second to realize that was his actual skin.

Killer Croc. I’d heard of him.

“Don’t worry, cher’. I ain’t gonna bite”, he growled at me; showing his terrifying teeth, in what I guess was supposed to be a smile. In spite of his appearance and reputation; I instantly felt calmer, from his use of the cher’ endearment. It reminded me of Sammy.

Sammy. “What happened to the owner of the club?”, I asked, voice shaking.

“He’s fine”, Flag answered. “I bumped him on the head a bit, when he tried to stop me from going after you. But I left a large tip for him. He’ll be able to make next months payment to whichever scumbag is using their protection scheme on him”.

I exhaled, relieved.

“And my cats?”, I remembered, panic returning.

“Your neighbor has them. Don’t worry”.

Good. Selina was sweet, though a bit kooky; and she seemed to love cats, more than even I did.

“All your loose ends are tied up, and as long as you behave, they’ll stay that way”.

I raised my eyebrows at him. “You are using my cats to blackmail me?”, I asked.

“Yes”, he answered shortly, and smirked.

By now, the three men were gathered in front of me.

“Where the hell is Harley and Digger?”, Flag called.

“Harley had feminine things to do”, basketball guy answered, before being interrupted by a shrill voice.

“Flag! The british guy was watching me on the toilet again!”. A curvaceous but lean woman appeared in a doorway to my right. She was dragging the rugged looking unicorn man, by his ear; storming towards us.

“I’m Australian, you crazy bitch”, he yelped; and she yanked him by his ear to the ground, putting a foot on his neck.

“Whatever. Do it again, and I’ll punch you in your kangaroo pouch!”, the woman hissed, and kicked him in the chest, before walking over to us. Once she saw me, her face instantly went from murderous to gleeful, and she reached out her hand to greet me.

“Harley Quinn. Pleased to make your acquaintance”, she said; grabbing my hand, and pulling me in to a tight hug.

Surprised, I simply patted her back, and then pulled away.

“You smell nice”, she whispered in my ear, before stepping back to join the others.

I was suddenly terrified and ecstatic at once. The queen of Gotham. It was like meeting actual royalty; if that royalty was crazy as hell, and had access to weapons.

They stood there; a motley crew of deadly weirdos, smiling and/or grimacing at me.

“Diablo. Deadshot. Killer Croc. Harley Quinn. Captain Boomerang. This is Chess”.

Basketball mans – correction, Deadshots – eyes lit up.

“You’re the invisible girl”.

“That’s her”, Flag answered.

“Can you talk for yourself, mami?”, asked the tattooed man – Diablo.

“I always thought a woman should be seen and not heard”, said Digger.

I smiled, disappeared, and the next thing he knew, he was back on the floor, wincing in pain, from my knee on his back. I leant towards his ear, still invisible.

“Are you sure about that?”, I purred, and dug my nails into the skin of his neck.

He yelped, turning around quickly; and I fell back, landing on my butt, before I sprang up, to stand next to Flag. Only then I made myself visible again.

Digger scrambled to get to his feet, and stepped towards me; a sneer on his face.

Flag stepped in front of me spreading his arms, as if protecting me. What is up with this guy?, I thought.

Deadshot stepped forward to face Digger, and Croc took a hold of his arms, holding him in place.

“Stay cool, man”, Deadshot said. “Looks like we’re going to be working with this lady now, so you need to back of”.

Digger settled down, but not before shooting me a look I couldn’t figure out whether was angry, or strangely aroused.

Flag turned to face me. “That wasn’t very smart”, he smiled.

“What? He has a mouth on him”, I answered.

“The last guy who used that sentence, lost his spot on this team in a pretty bad way. The spot you are now going to fill”. He went to stand next to me again, folding his arms across his torso.

“What happened to him?”, I asked.

“We don’t talk about it”, Harley pouted. “It was kind of gross. Speaking of which! Did you get yours yet?”. She sprang forward, putting her hand on my neck, as if searching for something.

“That’s the next step”, Flag said. He reached for his belt, and pulled out a strange looking gun.

None of the crew in front of me would look me in the eyes. Only Deadshot furrowed his brow, and kept eye contact with me; then pushing his lips into a thin line, before mouthing sorry.

Flag put the gun to my neck, and before I had time to react with anything more than a gasp, he pulled the trigger, and a sharp pain – there one second, gone the next – spread throughout the skin around the wound he’d made.

He let me go, lowered the gun, before meeting my eyes with a pained look. “It’s official”, he said, and put the gun into its holster.

I stood there. Mouth agape. Confused.

Deadshot stepped forward, patted my shoulder once, and then walked back towards the basketball.

“Welcome to the Suicide Squad”, he called out, made a shot, and the ball went into the hoop again.

Tag list:

@gloriousgam3r

@hyp-oh-critical

[deans-baby-momma]

Wounded Hearts 1

Summary: When John Winchester leaves his two high school-aged sons in a motel in Fairfax IN while he goes off on a hunt, they both make friends. What happens after they have to suddenly leave when John comes to fetch them? Will those friendships endure? Does Dean leave a piece of his soul behind?

Word Count: 3,635

A/N: This is a sequel to Past Haunts, but it’s mostly what happened in the thirteen years between high school and when Sam and Dean return to take care of a haunting in their old stomping grounds of Truman High. The first couple of chapters will be mainly Dean’s POV and then after that, each chapter will switch from Dean’s POV to Rebecca’s POV. I will label them appropriately.

October 14,  1996   Dean’s POV

I watch with pride as Sammy schools some kid. My brother might not look like much but he can fight. I guess all the times sparring with Dad and I have paid off. He gets a few good punches in before laying the bully out. I smile widely as Sam tells the kid that he’s not tough, he is just a jerk. The crowd begins chanting ‘Dirk the Jerk’.

One of the onlookers turns to walk away and slams right into me. I look down to see a girl from a couple of my classes. It takes me a minute to remember her name. Rebecca. Rebecca Quentin.

The blush on her cheeks and the way she pushes her hair behind her ears is adorable as hell! She looks down at the ground after she apologizes but I’ve got to tell her it’s okay. No harm, no foul.

“Hey Rebecca, right?”

I get a glimpse of what a spitfire she is, when I accidentally call her ‘honey’.

“I’m not your honey, Dean!” she rages and honestly it is cute as fuck! 

I smile and try to make up for my obvious mistake. “Listen, Becks,” I begin and cringe at another faux pas. ‘Dammit Dean keep it together.’ “Is it alright if I call you that?”

I sigh and relax when she nods her head that the nickname is okay.

“We got off on the wrong foot. Let me make it up to you. We can go get a bite to eat.” She looks like she is about to reject my offer so I quickly counter. “I’ll even bring my little brother so it won’t look like a date. If that’s what you’re afraid of.” 

When she agrees I can practically feel my heart rate pick up. This girl is beautiful with her gorgeous blue eyes and brown hair. She is a vision and she just agreed to go out with me! Well, Sammy too, but I get to talk more and learn about this angel.

I call Sammy over, never taking my eyes off her. As we leave the school grounds, I wonder if she is aware that she has strategically placed Sammy between us. Was that intentional or just a coincidence? The two of us carry most of the conversation during our trip since Sammy has his nose in some book, the big nerd!

Rebecca Quentin is 17 years old, the same age as me; a senior and is planning on going to college to become a Psychologist. She tells me that she has her heart set on Harvard.

“You must be really smart,” Sam quips glancing up at Rebecca before going back to reading.

On our walk, I learn that she is an only child and lives with her parents on the other side of town. I can’t imagine not having siblings because, although he can get on my nerves, Sammy is my life. I have been protecting him since I was 4 years old, it’s my duty. 

As we pass a movie rental store, I get the bright idea for pizza and a movie in our motel room. After some coaxing, Rebecca agrees and I rush inside to get the movie. ‘All Saints Day’ is one of my favorites. 

Our money situation is getting sparse but I want to splurge for her so I grab a couple bags of popcorn at the checkout and after paying, I join Rebecca and Sammy on the sidewalk.

We walk to the pizza joint and go inside to place our order. I look around the nearly-empty restaurant as we wait. The lighting is bright but is dulled by the amount of wood inside. Dark wooden panels cover the walls with even darker wood beams line the ceiling. The tables are draped with red-and-white checkered table clothes with a candle and a condiment tray in the center. The whole ambience of the place gives off a romantic vibe and I imagine bringing Rebecca here for a date.

‘Get a grip Dean!’ I think to myself. ‘You just met the girl and had to persuade her to hang out with you. She’s probably not even interested in you like that; just too nice to say no.’ The waitress calls our name and I grab the boxes before we continue our trek to the motel. 

At the motel, I am a complete gentleman, holding the door for her to enter first and I even carry her food for her. We settle in, me on the floor and her on the end of my bed. We watch as David Yeager portrays the Hatchet man. Sometime during the movie Rebecca joins me on the floor and when a jumpscare scene comes up she hides her face on my shoulder. I smile as I lean over and whisper, “I’ll protect you.” That earns me a smile and from the look in her eyes, I can tell she actually believes and trusts me. I can’t help myself as I lean over and press my lips to hers, keeping it chaste and innocent because Sammy is right there.  A few minutes later she places her hand in mine and I entwine our fingers, a smile breaking out on my face. I am scared that if I acknowledge it she’ll pull away and that is the last thing I want her to do, so I sit there with a big old goofy grin. We finish the movie and polish off the rest of the food before Sammy begins complaining that he wants to go to the arcade. I only have $20 left for us to live on until Dad returns and the brat is getting on my last nerve.

Suddenly Rebecca speaks up and pulls some bills out of her pocket. “Here ya go. There’s an arcade down at the end. Go crazy!” she tells him, with a laugh.

Sammy’s whole face alights and he begins begging me to go. “Can I Dean? I promise not to go any further. And to come straight back when I’m done. Please?” 

I look at Rebecca and then to Sammy. That means Rebecca and I will be in the room alone, by ourselves. What if she is expecting something to happen. Fuck! I have not watched enough Casa Erotica on stolen pay-per-view for this. I don’t know what I’m doing. Fuck!

I pull Sammy to the side. “No further. And if you see anything...suspicious come back here. You know the codeword.”

Sammy repeats the codeword and is out the door in a flash. Well this just turned awkward. I run my hand across the back of my neck as I turn to look at Rebecca. I take a step closer to her as she steps closer to me. Before long, we are standing toe-to-toe and I can smell her strawberry, I think it’s strawberry at least, shampoo. Her lips are still slightly swollen from the kiss I gave her and I lick mine as I hesitantly reach for her. She walks right into my embrace and wraps her arms around my neck. I lean down and kiss her and OH MY GOD! This kiss is even better than the first. I take a chance and swipe my tongue across the seam of her closed lips and am surprised when she opens to let me lick into her mouth.

She tastes like heaven, if there is a heaven. Her tongue wrestles with mine and she moans as I begin lightly sucking on hers. My hands begin rubbing up and down her sides, the hem of her shirt catching on my fingertips. I pull back and look at her questioningly and she nods so I grab the garment and pull it over her head. She is wearing a little peach bra with a tiny little bow in between her breasts. I swear I could cum right now. She helps me pull my shirt off and then we discard the rest of our clothing until we are left in our skivvies.

We lay down and make out heavily on the bed. I feel like my dick is going to burst, it’s so hard. I slide her bra strap down and then reach behind her to unsnap it. Of course with my bumbling hands, I have trouble but I get it loose and Rebecca pulls it off, dropping it on the floor. 

I stare at the picture before me. Her nipples are hardening to little nubs as I gaze at them. Seeing breasts on television is one thing but fuck me, breasts in real life? There is no comparison. Gathering up all the courage I can muster, I dip my head and kiss one of the stiff peaks, flicking my tongue across it. Rebecca moans above me and her hands land on the back of my head. I continue laving her nipple all the while loving the sounds she is producing.

I slide my hand slowly down her stomach, praying she doesn't feel the tremble in it. My whole body is vibrating with nerves.  I have never gotten this far with a girl and I'm worried I will somehow mess this up. I want to satisfy and please her. When my fingertips meet her panties, I lightly run them along the edge. I look up to see Rebecca's eyes watching me. She wiggles her hips and smiles. I take that as her consent to keep going. 

I push up onto my knees between her legs, almost embarrassed at the obviousness of my arousal. I hook my fingers in her panties and pull them down. Once I get them to her feet I stand up and take them the rest of the way off. I grab the top of my boxers to remove them but my eyes land on her body. Taking my time, I run my eyes down from her face to her neck, over her heaving chest and gorgeous tits down her stomach to….her pussy. Fuck! I palm my dick as I look at the splendor before me. Her outer lips are bare and smooth and I can just see a peek of her clit. How the hell am I going to last, I'm already about to blow my load. I push my boxers down until they fall to the floor.

 Climbing back onto the bed,  I position myself between her legs and lean forward to capture her lips. My cock rubs against her inner thigh and oh my fucking god! How am I getting harder?!

Rebecca's back arches off the bed, breaking our lips apart. "Dean," she sighs and I look into her eyes. Holy shit! This is happening! I'm about to have sex. I sure hope to god Sam doesn't return anytime soon. "Do you have a condom?"

Fuck!! Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. Yea I have a condom; one dad gave me when I turned 13, four years ago. Dammit to hell. 

I crawl off the bed,  trying to figure out if I want to take a chance with that old thing. I look around the room and spot a half wadded sandwich wrapper on the table. It keeps sandwiches fresh and dry so it should work right? I grab the plastic and notice a few crumbs stuck to it. I shake them off and proceed to wrap the cellophane around my dick,  making sure that the tip is covered well.  When I am satisfied with the protection, I climb back onto the bed and take my previous place. 

I grab the base of my dick and line it up with her entrance. "Ready baby?" I ask as sincerely as I can.

I’m nervous as hell but I want to make this good for her. I look down as I run the tip of my dick along her slit, her juices warm and slippery. I press in to breach her outer lips and notch myself at her entrance. I don’t know why but I am assuming this is her first time too. Maybe it’s the look of anxiety on her face or maybe I’m just seeing things. Either way, I want to ease her into this. Ok, yea and me too. “This might hurt and I’m sorry.”

I press into her and am immediately met with resistance. Yep, this is her first time too. Has to be, ain’t no way they are always this tight, right? I lean down and kiss her to swallow her cries as I pull out and push back in. A few more tries and our hips are flush, my dick is inside her! Holy shit, I am inside a girl and fuck does it feel wonderful! I have to bite my inner cheek to stave off the desire to shoot my load. It feels that fucking good!

When Rebecca whimpers, I freeze. Oh fuck! Did I hurt her? I should have been more gentle. ‘Good going Dean!’ I silently chastise myself. I wanted this to feel good for her, not to cause her any pain. I pull my upper body off her enough so that our foreheads are touching. Neither of us are moving, just our chests from the heaving breaths we are both taking. 

“Are you okay?” I ask, although if she would say no I think I’d have to kill myself. I don’t want to have harmed her in any way. 

Instead Rebecca grins up at me and nods her head. I feel relieved instantly. “Yea. Just keep doing what you are doing. It’ll get better.”

I start a slow and steady drive of pushing in and pulling out all the while trying to hide the euphoria on my face. I lean down and nuzzle into her neck, kissing the skin behind her ear.

Rebecca starts making these sweet little sounds that are so much better than anything I’ve ever heard on pay-per-view. It is music to my ears. I begin grunting on the push in and moaning each time I pull out. I swear I am in heaven. If there is a god, I want to shake that guy’s hand.

 Oh god! Now her pussy is squeezing me tight, making my momentum wobble. I can feel my nuts drawing up and I know I’m about to meet my end. White explodes my vision and I push in as far as I can, pulsing and shooting my load into that plastic sandwich wrapper. This is so much better than jacking off! 

Suddenly, Rebecca grabs my biceps; her fingers digging into my skin. She throws her head back onto my pillow with her eyes closed as she screams, “Oh god! Dean!”  I can feel her getting wetter and seeping out around my shaft.

I kiss along her collarbone, careful to keep my weight off of her as we both come down from that magnificent high. Now I know what all the excitement is about. Sex with a woman is phenomenal!

After cleaning up and getting re-dressed, the awkwardness creeps in. We stand in the middle of mine and Sammy’s motel room, just staring at one another with small smiles on each of our faces. Mine will probably be etched on and never go away.

“Well, I uh….I better get home,” Rebecca stammers, pushing her hair behind her ear. Does she realizes how fucking adorable and captivating that little habit is? Probably not, but it fucking is.

I don’t want her to go but I know she needs to get home. I look at my watch and balk as I see that it is almost 6 pm. So that means for almost an hour she and I had sex. Wow!

I grab her wrist and pull her toward me, running a finger down the side of her face. “See ya tomorrow, Becks.” I lean in and give her a quick kiss on the lips and wistfully watch as she opens the door.

Before leaving though, she looks back at me one more time and smiles. There is a sparkle in her eye and I can’t help but feel proud; I put that there. After the door closes, I turn to grab my flannel; might as well go hang out with Sammy in the arcade. Maybe whoop him in a game of Mario Kart. A spot on the bed catches my attention and my heart flutters when I realize what it is. There in the middle of my bed, is a splotch of Rebecca’s cum. I’ll sleep great tonight, with the knowledge that I finally got laid. And we both enjoyed it. The proof is right there. 

I pull my flannel on, checking to see if I had the room key before I strut down the side of the building to the room that the arcade is located in. I look through the window to see my nerdy ass brother sitting at a game for dorks; some type of trivia shit. I go to grab the door handle and wonder if Sammy will be able to tell a difference in me. I am no longer Dean Winchester, virgin but I am Dean Winchester, sex god. 

I challenge Sammy to a round of Lethal Enforcers, totally demolishing him. But at 13 Dad hasn’t let Sammy get much practice in with a gun. Not like he has with me; by the time I was Sammy’s age I could take apart, clean and reassemble almost any caliber weapon in Dad’s possession. I ruffle Sam’s hair as we head back to the room, much to his chagrin. 

“What’s got you in such a good mood Dean?” Sammy asks. “You and Rebecca do it?” I can tell by the playfulness of his voice and the smirk on his face, Sammy has no idea what transpired in our room.  In an attempt to play it cool and nonchalant, I puff out my chest and say, “Yea. I rocked her world.”

Sammy rolls his eyes and continues walking towards the room. I shudder at how much of a jerk I sound like. It was nothing like that at all. What happened between Becks and I was magical and wonderful and I wouldn’t mind doing it again. At that thought, I remind myself to invest in some newer condoms. 

The next morning

I can’t wait to get to school. I have first period with Rebecca and I am hoping to be able to sit beside her. That is, if Amanda Heckerling and her flunkies leave us alone. There is a skip in my step as Sammy and I walk the two blocks to the school. But it falls away when the cell phone in my pocket begins ringing. I know there is only one person with this number and there is only one reason he would be calling. Dad is done with his hunt and is on his way to pick us up. I curse as I take the phone out of my jacket pocket and flip it open.

After the call, I tell Sammy the news. “Dad will be here by lunchtime to pick us up. Do you have everything in your bag?” We had long ago learned to carry our personal possessions with us instead of leaving them in whatever motel room we stayed in. Easier for Dad to just pick us up and leave town before any questions or concerns arose. 

“Yep,” Sammy answers and I can tell he is as melancholy as I am at the thought of leaving this town. In the three weeks we’ve been here, we have both made friends and hated leaving them behind, knowing we’d probably never see or hear from them again.

I go about my normal routine, checking in at homeroom and grabbing my shit out of my locker before heading to English Lit. As soon as I walk in I spot Rebecca but instead of the smile I expect to see on her face, she looks down. Is she ashamed of what we did? Did she tell someone and they made fun of her for having sex with the boy from out of town? I walk past her and take my usual seat at the back. I can’t wait for Dad to get here so we can get out of this shithole! Lunchtime cannot come soon enough.

At lunch, I track down Sammy and we go to the front of the school to wait on Dad. As we hear the rumble of the Impala coming we both look up at the building morosely. The best and worst things happened here. I met a girl and had sex just for her to turn around and deny she even knew me. “This place sucks. Come on Sam,” I say as I head around the front of the car to get into the front.

As we pass the sign that thanks us for visiting Fairfax, I silently wish Rebecca Quentin a farewell. My heart constricts and I feel sick. I lean my head back against the seat, closing my eyes and daydream about blue eyes and dark brown hair and soft silky skin. 

@tftumblin​ @spnbaby-67​ @markofdean79​ @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​ @travelingriversideblues-x​ @akshi8278​ @keymology​ @hoboal87​ @squirrelnotsam​ @natura1phenomenon​ @drakelover78​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @blacktithe7​ @atc74​ @sea040561​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ @vicariouslythruspn​ @sandlee44​ @mogaruke​  @deanwanddamons​ @supraveng​ @deandreamernp​  @lyarr24​

[holylulusworld]

Young hearts still break

Request: Could you do a one shot where Dean turns the reader down because she is too young and he is afraid to hurt her and he is a real dick about it, but then sees how bad she is hurt after a while?

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam

Warnings: angst, language, Dean being a douche, unrequited love, sad reader, low self-esteem, mentions of sex, comforting, age gap (Dean is 40; Reader 25)

You don’t know how it happened, but it happened fast. One moment you were telling Sam a joke, slapping Dean’s chest and the next moment you pressed your lips to the green-eyed hunters.

Blame it on the alcohol – you only had one drink so that’s a lie. Blame it on Sam pushing you toward Dean to finally admit your feelings. Blame it on the blonde chick who tried to hit on Dean – but in the end, it was your decision.

You thought he would laugh about it. Kiss you back. Or just act as if nothing happened but he decided to kill your feelings for him with one big punch to your guts.

“What the fuck? Since when do we kiss each other? I thought you know you are like a sister to me. An annoying little sister.” Dean spats and you step backward.

“I…I love you, Dean. I am sorry that I just pressed my lips to yours but I thought that I could, no should make a move before you go home with another faceless girl…” Tears threaten to fall and you pray, Dean will go easy on you…

“I’d rather go home with any girl but you. I am not interested in you.” Dean narrows his eyes as you try to say something. “Let me clarify things. I would not take you home if you were the last girl on earth. Now go home and suck your thumb…”

“Dean! What the actual fuck!” Sam gently shoves you behind his back, tries to shield you from his angry brother and the grinning girl slinging her arms around Dean’s waistline.

“It had to be said, Sammy. She needs to know I would never…” Running, that’s what you do before Dean can hurt you even more.

You always assumed that the hunter would never reflect your feelings but you had hoped, if you find the strength to admit your feelings, he would be kind enough to not embarrass you in front of a random girl.

Two hours later you can hear Dean and the faceless girl he will forget soon in the room next to yours. You wanted a separate room as you had hoped, this time Dean would go home with you.

While you press your hands to your ears to not hear Dean’s moans you ignore your phone. You know it’s Sam and that he wants to apologize to encourage you but right now, you can’t hear his voice.

“Sorry, Sam. I’ll talk to you in the morning when I survived hearing Dean moan that bitches name…”

Before Sam can knock at your door you already open it. Your friend, the one always encouraging you gives you a sad smile, knowing you heard Dean and the girl last night.

“It’s fine, Sam. This way I know he would never be interested in me. No, wait…not even when I am the last girl on earth. I guess he would hunt hot guys when all women die at once…” 

Huffing you hide your face in the palms of your hands, shaking your head. “How could I be that stupid and believe he would ever return my feelings. I am dumb and ugly…”

Rushing out of the door, your bag slung over your shoulder you open the door to the backseat. Dean is already behind the steering wheel, glances at you in the rearview mirror, but for the first time, you don’t even look at him.

“We should go.” Sam’s voice is softer than usual, and you nod at your friend, giving him a cracked smile when sits next to you in the backseat. “Do you want to sleep in my lap?”

“No. I think you should sit in the front seat. I know you are only nice as you pity me. I know I am ugly and dumb. Just leave me be and wake me when we are back at the bunker…” Sam nods silently, not wanting to talk to you in front of his brother.

Dean swallows hard. Never before did you ignore him but, on the other hand, never before did he embarrass you in front of a random girl which he fucked later only to prove a point.

“I’ll wake you when we are there and I do not pity you, Y/N. We are friends.” Sam can’t hold back the words and you give him a sad smile before you turn around.

“I know Sam. At least one person is my friend…” Your words let Dean’s stomach drop as he can hear the sadness in your voice.

He believed it’s for the best to make sure you do not fall for him but now – he hurt the girl he loves…

The next days you spend hiding in your room. Hating your appearance, the way you talk and even your pink fingernails you look in the mirror.

“No wonder Dean is not interested. I look like a kid who sleeps in a dumpster and painted her nails pink.” You don’t see Dean lean against the doorframe to check on you only to hear you doubt your appearance due to his mistake.

“Why waste more time with make-up and painting my nails. An ugly duck will never be a swan. Not now, not ever.” While you open your wardrobe to get a wide hoodie and old sweatpants out to hide your appearance Dean silently leaves your room.

“Don’t you want to eat something?” Glancing at your untouched food Sam looks at your sad face. You tried to hide in your room once again but he forced you to eat with him and Dean in the library.

“Not hungry…” Shoving the plate away you don’t meet Sam’s gaze. “I lost my appetite. Just give it to someone else.”

“Who?” Dean cocks his head but like all the other days since he yelled at you, there is no answer. “Y/N.”

“Dean leave her alone, you’ve done enough.” Sam tries to give you comfort but you get up to leave the library without another word. “Y/N, wait. You need to eat something.”

“Why? It is not as if anyone would care if I die, Sam. You are not my dad or babysitter. I think you have better things to do than taking care of a child which is not yours…” Running toward your room, head ducked you try to hold back more tears.

“Great job, Dean.” Taking your plate Sam smashes it onto the floor. “You could’ve told her she’s too young, or not your type. But devastating her like that…”

“Sammy…”

“No Dean. Don’t you dare to find an excuse for hurting her like that. Hell, I am afraid she will harm herself. I haven’t slept for days thanks to you.” Storming off Sam shakes his head as his brother calls his name.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean’s eyes land on your destroyed plate on the floor. He made your favorite food, still, you didn’t eat a bite.

That night Dean can’t find sleep. Sam’s words still echo in his mind as he wanders through the bunker.

He can hear Sam talk to you, can hear he tries to make you eat but you locked your room and Sam stands outside, not knowing how to help you.

“Shall I try?”

“What do you want to say? That she’s ugly and that you hate her?” Sam huffs. “I think that’s how she already sees herself. Leave her alone. Maybe Jody and the girls can help her when she’s at Jody’s place.”

“Jody’s place?” Dean’s eyes dart between his brother and your locked door.

“Y/N decided she wants to live at Jody’s place for a while.” Sam silently walks away as his brother gulps hard.

“How long, Sammy?”

Sam’s sad eyes meet Dean’s as he shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe forever. Depends if she can mend her broken heart…”

Dean can’t take it any longer. Watching you shove your plate away he gets up to grab your fork. “If you do not eat right now, I’ll force the food into your mouth.”

“I am not hungry. Now leave me alone and feed someone else with your food. Maybe get a dog. You’ll like having a new pet as the old one outlived her usefulness…” Sniffling you get up to run out of the room, not caring Dean calls your name.

“Sweetheart, you are no pet to me. Wait…dammit, woman.” Running after you Dean tries to stop you but your hand slaps him across the face and both of you are shocked for a moment.

You are no one to hit a person. I mean you gank monsters without mercy but you never hurt people on purpose. A few months ago you even apologized to Castiel as you dropped your bag onto his foot.

“Sorry…I just…” Stepping away from Dean you hide your face in the palms of your hands. “I am useless and you should feed someone else.”

“Y/N…” Dean won’t give up, takes a step toward you only to watch your step backward again. The game goes on until your back hits the wall behind you. “You are not a pet to me, kiddo. I just…”

“I know, useless little child suits me better.” Voice full of self-hatred you fiddle with the sleeves of your hoodie.

“Can you not stop saying things like that about yourself?” Dean’s hand reaches out for you but you flinch away, not wanting him to touch you. “Do you hate me, Sweetheart?”

“I never hated anyone but the monsters killing my family.” Wiping the tears running down your cheeks away you meet Dean’s sad eyes.

“I know that you only tolerate me as you feel responsible for the girl you saved from the monster. I am twenty-five now and you can stop pretending you care. I’ll leave in the morning…”

“Y/N…” Swallowing the lump in his throat Dean slowly approaches you as he would do with a frightened animal. “I do not hate you or see you as a pet. You’re  important to me.”

“Sure…” Looking at your feet, suddenly interested in your fluffy socks with pie-print you huff. “I am not important to you or you wouldn’t have said all those things in front of the girl harassing me the whole evening.”

“She harassed you?”

“Not with words but looks. I know she believed I am ugly and that you could never…” Shrugging you tug at your hoodie. “She was right. I am no one to you and never will be…”

Before Dean has the chance to argue you dash toward your room. “Y/N! Stay here! I will kick your door open if you do not let me explain…”

“Explain shit to any other chick, Dean.” The door slams into his face and true to his words, Dean kicks it open.

Wood splatters all over the room and you shriek as he steps into the room to grab your waist to toss you over his shoulder.

“What the fuck! Let me down! Do you want to throw me out of the bunker like trash?” Wiggling and screaming you try to break free.

“Stop making a fuss. I want to show you something…” Dean grumbles walking straight toward his room. “Now be a good girl and listen for once in your life.”

“There…” Placing the box with his ‘treasures’ onto your lap Dean opens it. “I only keep things of people who are important to me.”

You can see the bandana you bought him, pictures of you and Dean, a fork and the necklace you thought you lost lie in his box.

“Why do you have my necklace?”

“It’s broken and I wanted to try to fix it for you for your birthday but I messed up and wanted to buy you a new one. Sammy was faster.” Cursing Dean slides his fingers over the necklace. “The one Sam bought was nicer than the one I made…”

“But it’s nice. Pink and all…” Humming Dean gets the necklace out. “I like pink…”

“I know…” Smirking Dean glances at your pink nails. “I know you have pink panties too…”

“Uh—are you a perv?” Flustered you look at the fork. “Why is there a fork in the box?” Dean blinks a few times before he shrugs. 

“When we met, and Sammy bought only one pie we fought over the last slice. You broke my fork and we had to share the pie and the fork. When I imagine kissing you, I kinda lick at the fork.”

“Wait…uh—you lick at a fork we shared liked five years ago?” Shuddering you toss the fork to the floor. “That’s unhealthily and disgusting. You could just kiss me…”

“I can…?” Dean’s eyes lit up as you move to the edge of the bed. “I’ll remind you that it was your idea when you realize I am too old for you.” Moving closer to you Dean pecks your neck softly.

“Too old? I don’t understand.” Getting a picture of you and Dean out you smile as he has his arms wrapped around you, grinning wildly as he pranked Sam not hours ago.

“I didn’t smile as I pranked Sammy. I smiled as I was holding you in my arms. I am sorry for what I said but I believed you are too young for me and that you will not be happy with me.” Humming you glance at the necklace in Dean’s hands.

“I like pink…”

“Do you want to try it on?” Opening the necklace Dean wraps it around your neck. “I…I can try to make you a nicer one. I could use gold next time.”

Sliding your fingers over the bandana you smile as you can see another treasure underneath the fabric. “You kept the lucky charm?”

“I kept everything, Y/N. I never wanted to hurt you, just tried to protect you.” His arms wrap around your waist to bring you onto his lap. “I will try to make things up to you if you let me.”

“You hurt me, broke my heart. I can’t just tell you that all is forgiven. I will need time to be your friend again.”

“What if I want you to be more than my friend?” Whispering the words against you Dean holds his breath.

“This will need even more time…”

“I am willing to wait as long as you want me to.”

“Then I’ll try to forgive you…”