#then ofc he takes over the arsenal and sets all the guns on fire so no one can use it against him
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ngl i started tearing up.......he's blossomed again .............😭😭😭😭😭😭
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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago
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Too Loose And You’ll Lose It
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Ch9: Lebanon, Lebagone  
Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​
Summary:  A few months post their reconciliation, Jake and Stella run a mission with the rest of the team…
 Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson
Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)
Word Count: 8k ish.
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. We do not own any characters in this series bar Stella Stevenson and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
A/N: So the mission detailed here was highly inspired by the second book in the Grey Man series. Locations and a few major details are changed, and the names are completely made up.  The Terrorist/Political party- The Lebanese Freedom Party, does not to our knowledge actually exist.
Too Loose And You’ll Lose It Masterlist // Main Masterlist
Chapter 8 
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 “Alright, let’s get in position before daylight hits.” Clay looked around as they walked down the narrow alleyway.
“Roger that.” Stella nodded as Cougar replied with a tip of his hat to show he had heard, Pooch also inclining his head.
The four of them stopped by a door to their right, Stella pulling the tool from her utility belt which was fastened around the waistband of her camo pants. She picked the lock in under thirty seconds, a simple job that required a little bit of jiggling, twisting and a good jerk with the torque wrench Cougar was holding to defeat.
“Not particularly high security considering this was a bank.” She mumbled as behind her Cougar chuckled.
Inside it was pitch black, dust rose in clouds, shimmering in the moonlight, which was streaking through the dirty arched windows. Both of them flipped out their flashlights, quickly scanning the room for any sign that someone had been here recently, but there was none. 
They crossed quietly and quickly through the main atrium of the old building, taking care to keep to the shadows. The old bank was completely deserted bar a few desks and old telephones which sported thick layers of dust as they moved through, heading for the spiral staircase at the far side.
“We’re clear.” Pooch said as he looked up to the top of the staircase. “This place hasn’t been accessed for years.”
“Lima Six, anything to report?” Clay spoke into his radio and a moment later Jensen replied.
“Nothing on the comms, they’re talking about moving Kilo One out at the time we suspected but it could be a rouse to make sure…but Lima Two knows the code-word should they decide to go early.”
“Okay, as soon as you get movement let me know.”
“Ten-four, One.”
“Okay, let’s get set up.” Clay instructed and the team nodded in agreement as they all set about, placing various pieces of equipment around the place exactly where it needed to be for when their target and his security detail, in which Roque had embedded himself undercover, came storming into the pre-designated building, seeking refuge from an attack outside.
It took them roughly an hour to set up completely, things having to be precisely as Pooch directed. Eventually, when he was happy, they climbed the staircase at the back of the room. Four sets of eyes swept the square below. It was deserted, as was to be expected at such an early hour in the morning.
Stella scanned the buildings, nevertheless, her eyes sharp, looking for any sign of movement around the whitewashed and pebble-dashed sandstone that they had grown accustomed to seeing over the last three weeks or so they’d been in Nabatieh, Lebanon.
“So Khalil should be coming from there.” Pooch raised his arm and pointed to a small road to the right. “The plan is we lay down some fire by his bodyguards as he approaches the podium, and force them to take shelter in the bank, as led nicely by Roque.”
“Why do we want this guy alive so badly, anyway?” Stella mumbled to herself. “If he’s such a bastard, why don’t we just kill him? He’s a terrorist leader.”
“The Lebanese Freedom Party ain’t deemed terrorists all over the world.” Pooch grinned and Stella snorted. “Russia views them as a legitimate socio-political force.”
“Russia basically executes people for being gay” She scoffed. “Forgive me for not taking their viewpoint here as the one to set my moral compass against.” She sighed. “Cougs could take one shot, straight in the head. Boom. Job done.”
Cougar chuckled as he unloaded his rifle and stand, looking up at Clay. “She’s not wrong, Boss.”
“Whilst wiping that particular shit stain off the face of the earth might be appealing, they ain’t our orders. We apprehend alive.” Clay spoke, matter of factly and Stella rolled her eyes.
“Whatever helps us sleep at night, huh?”
****
Stella had to hand it to their Intel department. The start of the hit went like clockwork. At bang on the designated time, Jensen radioed in to say that they were moving out and sure enough, twenty minutes or so later he accounted the SUVs and jeeps had left the compound. He joined the rest of the team little over half an hour later, leaving the dirty van he had been driving hidden down a dark alleyway at the back of the bank, behind the one the rest of the team had arrived in and headed into the dank building, wrinkling his nose at the musty air as he walked in. 
“Hey.” He greeted Stella, his hand falling to her shoulder as she sat in the back, her attention focussed through the window, a pair of binoculars raised to her eyes.
“Hey.” She whispered back, her gaze flicking to him quickly, flashing him a smile as she turned back to her spotting.
“So I picked up on their coms that they think Khalil’s personal security have done a sweep of the area.” Jensen looked at them. “Roques done his job nicely. They should be entering the square from the South West corner.”
 “ETA?” Clay turned to him.
“Less than five minutes.”
“Excellent.” Clay nodded. “So far so good.”
The next five minutes or so passed in silence, all five of the Officers in the room observing the roads leading to the square just in case. Even though their intel was solid, it was drilled into them that they should never rely on it completely.
“Boss,” Cougar spoke suddenly, his shoulders squaring back, “target approaching. Roughly two miles out.”
“Fuck, I got something coming too from the North East.” Pooch groaned.
“What?” Clay demanded.
“I dunno but it looks suspiciously like an ARV.”
“An ARV?” Clay frowned.
“Yup. They’ve stopped. Six hundred yards out.”
“What do you mean they’ve stopped?” Jensen demanded, snatching the binoculars off him.
“What the fuck do you think I mean?” Pooch replied. “They’re not moving.”
“What the fuck is going on?” Stella growled and Clay took the binoculars off Jensen. She watched as Clay took a look before he sighed heavily and dropped his head.
“It’s the Lebanese Special Service. I recognise one of them from a mission a while back.”
“What the hell are they doing here?”
 “I should have seen this coming.” Clay bit his lip. “They’re going to hit him at the rally. The false trail we leaked to them means they think we’re moving on him as he makes his way out of town and up to Beirut. They’re going to get in first.”
“It’s a double cross.” Stella looked at Jake and Pooch as she spoke, the pair of them exchanging a look before all eyes bar Cougar’s, which remained firmly fixed on his target, turned to Clay. “Why?”
“Death to the West and all that.” Clay sniffed. “They’re gonna take him out and try and use USA involvement as cover.”
“Don’t they realise that won’t work?” Stella shook her head. “We’re Black Ops, the thick fuckers. As soon as there’s so much of a sniff that shit is going west, the CIA will leave us high and dry, denying they had anything to do with it.”
“So what’s Plan B?” Pooch turned to look Clay. “I’m hoping you got a Plan B, because Plan A is going to shit.”
“Kilo one still approaching.” Cougar stated.
“You got anything special in your arsenal?” Clay turned to Pooch. “As in blow up an ARV special?”
Pooch blinked. “Yeah, the RPG but…”
“Go get it.” Clay instructed.
Pooch didn’t hesitate, he shot off down the stairs and Stella watched him go before she turned her attention back to the large square, which was roughly the size of two football pitches, busy with people bustling about their everyday business.
“If we get this wrong, the whole square is gonna be caught up in a fucking gun fight,” Stella spoke, her eyes falling on a group of kids in the middle.
There was a pause before Clay spoke again. “Khalil is our main objective; we just need to keep collateral to a minimum.”
Collateral. Stella hated that fucking word. She swallowed and looked at Jensen who gave her a small smile, which she returned before she glanced back at the square.
“One mile out.” Cougar informed.
“Okay,” Clay spoke, clapping his hands together. “Pooch, as soon as the LSS move, you shoot that RPG straight at the fuckers.”
“Gladly.” He nodded, “But, chances are if they’ve got an ARV out there then they’ll already have agents on the ground.”
“It doesn’t matter, all we gotta do is get a shot off first.  Once that initial gun crack is heard, Khalil’s security outfit are gonna herd him in here anyway. And hopefully, when the LSS get note their vehicle has gone bang it’ll draw them into blowing cover somehow.” Clay nodded. “At least then we’ll be able to spot where they are.” He took a deep breath. “Cougar, keep watch on Khalil. As soon as you get a viable opportunity to lay down the fire, take it.”
Cougs, who hadn’t taken his eye away from the target sight of his gun simply tipped the brim of his hat again with his finger to show he had understood and Clay turned to the other three of them as they waited instructions.
 “What about Roque?” Stella asked. “He doesn’t know about the LSS.”
“He’ll roll with the punches.” Clay rubbed his hand over his chin. “Everyone clear?”
“Clear as, boss, it’s a shoot-out.” Jensen snorted, nodding his head as he gave a chuckle. “Good times.”
“If this is your idea of a good time then I’d hate to see a bad one.” Pooch grumbled and Stella gave a chuckle.
“Hey, Poochy, I just like to see the positive in all aspects of life.” Jensen grinned, holding his hands out to the side, palms up. “You’re just grumpy because Jolene’s finally managed to…ouch!” Jensen gave a yelp as Stella punched him hard on the arm. “What was that for, babe?”
Stella shot him a look which instantly shut him up. Pooch had confided in her, Cougar and Jensen no less than two days ago that Jolene was four months pregnant, but he didn’t want to tell Clay or Roque for reasons that he was keeping to himself, as per his prerogative, she supposed. It had made her and Jensen snort a little, as when Aubrey had found out she was pregnant roughly five months or so ago, the entire world had known pretty much before the pee was dry on the test stick. Jensen’s eyes widened as he realised exactly what he’d been about to say and he grimaced, before turning to Pooch, giving him an apologetic look.
“Kilo One is approaching the square.” Cougar spoke, and they all turned their attention to him, stepping forward to the window, Clay observing their surroundings with the binoculars. 
“Okay, focus up Losers.” Clay hushed them all, gesturing to Pooch. “Get ready with that RPG”
Pooch shot Jensen one final filthy glare before he stepped forward, resting the grenade launcher on his shoulder.
“Arty, Jensen, in position.” Clay instructed. “Coms on, code names only.”
They both nodded, Stel picking up a device that had been in Pooch’s big bag of tricks, and made their way back to the spiral staircase.
And then, it all happened at once. Clay gave the order to fire and both Pooch and Cougar took their shots at the same time. The popping of guns, sounds of screaming and yelling and a rather large explosion followed by Pooch’s loud chuckles of glee hit their ears and Jensen looked at Stella as they waited at the top of the stairs.
“I really shouldn’t enjoy this as much as I should.” He grinned, and Stella snorted as suddenly the room below them was full of voices, once of which the recognised instantly as Roque. From their extensive planning, Sella knew that they would likely hustle into the room in a tight cordon, with Khalil in the middle and head to the most secure part of the building, the vault. They had no idea how many of the guard had made it into the building with Khalid, but essentially it didn’t matter. The Losers were one step ahead.
As soon as the group made their way towards the main part of the atrium, through the open double doors which led through the cashier area, Jensen grinned at Stella.
“Hit it, babe!” 
Stella smirked as she pushed the button on the device she held in her hand. The large electromagnets that had been placed on the locks snapped into place, firing the four inch thick steel bolts into their slots, securing them tightly, ensuring no one could get out, and no one else could get in. Yells of warnings rang out about the place as the guards instantly wheeled round, their guns raised and Roque’s eyes flickered upwards to where they were hidden on the veranda above. Jensen raised his right hand, his index and middle finger extended and he waved them across his face, indicating that their next move was about to go down. Roque made no sign he’d seen them, bar a quick double-blink.
“I’m sorry, pal.” Jensen grimaced a little as he ducked down and lifted a heavy square box off the floor, flipping the plastic cover up, jamming his thumb onto the red button. “Lima Two is about to deploy, please return to your seats and cover your ears.” He spoke into his coms, giving the rest of the team a warning. As soon as the device beeped to say it was charged, Jensen launched it over the side of the railing where it fell onto the floor below. As soon as it left his hands, he and Stella ducked down, their fingers jammed in their ears, eyes scrunched shut as the device activated.
Referred to merely by Pooch as the S-Fud- ‘Sensory Fuck-Up Device’, the item had been developed by the boffins in the CIA lab to create complete optical and aural disorientation by using ultra violet and bright white lights and a loud, high pitched sound and sonic wave. Even with his eyes screwed shut, the flash of light still bounced off all the surfaces surrounding Jensen, and the hands which were clamped over his ears might have dimmed the majority of the loud wailing siren, which lasted no more than two seconds, but the combination was still enough to leave him feeling slightly woozy as he stood to his feet, blinking furiously, his eyes feeling like he’d stared straight at the sun, his eardrums ringing as if he’d spent hours in a nightclub with music thumping in his ears. Besides him, Stella staggered to her feet and shook her head, pressing the heel of her palm to the space between her eyes. But they had no time to waste. Jake gently shook her shoulder and she nodded to show him she was okay. Together they made their way down the stairs as quickly as they could. 
The S-Fud had done its job, all the men were incapacitated to some extent. As Stella’s eyes glanced around she quickly counted six men in total. Three, one of whom was Khalil, were completely unconscious, face down on the floor. Two more, including Roque, were writhing in pain, hand clutched over their ears, and one was attempting to stagger to his feet. In a flash, Stella had nailed him with a kick to the face, and he fell backwards with a thud, his nose shattering as her heel smashed straight into the bridge.
“Did you see that?” Jensen turned to the other three men who had joined them, all looking around the room. “My girl, she’s a bad ass chick.”
“Can you concentrate on the mission in hand for once and not your dick?” Pooch shook his head as Cougar hit the moving guard with the butt of his rifle, knocking him out.
“Your momma concentrated on my dick last night.” Jensen shot back and Pooch groaned.
“Seriously? Momma jokes, now?”
“Shut up.” Stella nudged Jake harshly with her elbow as she walked past, following Clay as they stepped over the unconscious guards, heading towards Roque as he groaned and lay curled up in the foetal position. Clay knelt down and reached out, loosening his tie and the top button of his dress shirt before patting him on the shoulder, as Stella did the same to their target.
“Okay, lets move.” Clay looked up. “Jensen, Pooch, you take Roque. I’ll get Khalil. Cougs, Arty, give us cover to the vehicle.”
The team all nodded, Jensen and Pooch stepping forward, each seizing Roque under his arms. They managed to get him to his feet, each supporting him, their arms round his back as his arms slumped over their shoulders. His feet staggered on the floor as he made an attempt to talk.
“We got you, buddy.” Jensen said softly. “You’ll be alright, just feel like you’ve got one hell of a hangover for a few hours.”
Meanwhile Clay had managed to hoist Khalil to his feet with Cougar’s help, the man a complete dead weight, which he allowed to slump against his right shoulder. With an almighty heave he ducked and then stood, using his legs to rise up fully, Khalil slung over him in a fireman’s lift, his arms dangling freely down Clay’s back.
Without another word, the team moved as quickly as they could to the dead-bolted doors where Stella reached into her pocket with one hand, whipping her pistol out with the other. She clicked the device, which unlocked the glass doors and they made their way across the atrium, the chaotic noises from outside growing louder as they approached the back door to the bank they’d used to enter. Stella flattened herself against one side of the wall to the right of the door as Cougar took aim with his rifle. He looked at her and nodded, and in a flash she reached out and yanked it open, Cougar darting through, rifle held in front of him. 
“Clear.” He spoke and Stella moved to allow the rest of the team to step out into the alleyway, taking up the rear. 
She spotted the man hiding in a doorway two down before Cougs even had chance to shout a warning. In a flash she fired pistol twice. The first shot hit the guy in the arm, causing him to drop his gun, the second in the knee and he fell to the floor, screaming in agony. Then came another, and another. As Stella and Cougar continued, Jensen, Pooch and Clay heaved their charges to the side of the van, ducking as shots rained down on them. Pooch wrenched open the door, and Jensen hopped into the back, hoisting Roque in as gently as he could, a sharp contrast to the way Clay simply slung Khalil unceremoniously into the back. As Pooch ran to the front and hopped into the driver side, Stella and Cougar both sprinted towards the van, flinging themselves in as the engine started. With a sharp tug, Clay pulled he door shut as Pooch started the engine. 
Seconds later, the van roared back off up the alley, the crackle of gunfire from the square growing quieter and quieter as they put more distance between them and the danger.  Pooch drove them out onto the main road, towards the point, some six miles or so away, where they would ditch the van and hop into two separate SUVs and make their way to the agreed Ex-fil point at Saida Port roughly a half an hour or so drive away.
Stella closed her eyes, resting her head against the cool metal of the van, watching as Pooch and Jensen  hoisted Khalil into a sitting position, securing his wrists with flexi-restraints behind his back. Cougar was busy offering Roque some water, Stella pleased to see their teammate was finally starting to come round. She smiled as Jensen flopped down next to her, his arm looping round her shoulders as he pulled her to him for a soft kiss.
“I love working with you,” he grinned and she snorted, shaking her head as she chuckled.
“Yeah, we’re a regular nine-to-five couple, aint we?”
****
“Stel?” Jake called through the door of the bathroom of their temporary lodgings before he opened it and to be greeted by Stella led back in the bath, eyes closed. She turned her head to look at him. “I was gonna ask if you wanted head out with the guys for a beer and food but you look pretty comfortable.”
She pulled a face. “I’m feeling anti-social.” Jake laughed at her frank answer and smiled as she gave a small shrug. “Sorry, not sorry, but we spent four weeks in a hell hole motel and I’m extremely grateful Clay’s managed to get us holed up in a nice place and not the Officers’ Quarters on base so I intend to make the most of it.”
“Babes, we were both in the army.” He snorted. “Rocks for pillows and all that.”
“Yeah, well it’s been a while since I did that. What can I say? I’ve grown used to the finer things again.”
“Fair enough, I’ll let Clay know you hate them all and don’t want to socialise.” He teased.
“Jakey, we’re gonna be here for by my guess a week at least, plenty of time to go out sampling the finest bars the UK has to offer.” She shrugged, not bothered in the slightest by his teasing. “If you wanna go meet them, feel free. I’ll grab a take out. There were some leaflets pinned to the board in the kitchen.”
“Or…” Jake smirked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, “I stay here, because frankly, that bed looks really comfy and I kinda wanna test it. See how grossed out we can make Pooch.”
“Jerk.” Stella snorted.
“Well, he’s done nothing but complain since we got here about how he has to share this house with us and can’t go in with the others, so I wanna give him something to really complain about.”
“You’re such a little shit.” She laughed and Jake groaned. 
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what? Laugh?”
“Yeah, it’s making your boobs wobble under the water, and that’s making me horny.”
“You’re always horny.”
“Hornier than usual.”
“Well, I can solve that problem.” She grinned and Jake smirked.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, turn around and shut the door on your way out.”
“Ouch, Stells.” Jake slapped his hand over his heart. “That’s cold.”
“Hmmm,” She muttered, laying her head back and closing her eyes again. “If you’re getting in here you better hurry, or the water will be cold too.”
Jake grinned and in a flash, reached back to grab a fist full of his t-shirt behind the collar and pulled it over his head. As his hands flew to the button on his jeans Stella nodded to the door.
“You better lock that, I know you said you wanted to gross Pooch out but if he walks in on us he’ll be scared for life.”
“And?”
Stella merely arched her brow, “No locky, no fucky.”
With that Jake spun on his heel and flicked the lock, before he turned round and shoved his pants and boxers down in one full swoop and swung his leg over the side of the tub. Stella moved forward so he could settle behind her, his legs laying either side of hers. It was a tight squeeze, the tub in the two bedroomed terraced house wasn’t built to accommodate two but neither paid it any mind. 
Stella took a deep breath, closed her eyes and leaned back, her head laying against Jake’s chest as his hands softly rubbed up and down her forearms, his lips pressing a kiss to her shoulder. 
They were silent for a while, the pair of them simply contented to stay there for a moment, relishing the peace after a long and tedious mission and the chance to relax for an evening before the debriefs and analysis started the next day in the War Rooms of the RAF Base in Suffolk, England. Often, the aftermath of a mission was more hard-going than the action itself. They’d hash over the events, listen to the CIA operative justify some of the more morally ambiguous decisions made, no doubt the ramifications and political fall-outs, be informed about how the CIA were going to play it and then they’d have to submit written reports, which would be Classified at the highest levels and stored in the top secret vaults in Virginia. 
It was part and parcel of being in a black-ops team. They knew the script, having read and played it many a times before. But it was draining and exhausting, one of the many reasons Stella was glad that the actual missions they ran, whilst they could last months at a time, were on the large few and far between.
“You okay?” Jake broke the silence and pressed his lips once more to the back of her shoulder and Stella nodded, tilting her head round so she could look at him.
“I spoke to Rey before.”
“Yeah, how is she?”
“She said she felt the baby move for the first time.” Stella beamed.
“Oh, that’s awesome.” Jake grinned back, “are they gonna find out what they’re having?”
Stella snorted, “dur. You know what she’s like. She’ll want to decorate and buy it blue or pink clothes, plus if it’s a boy she’s got time to mentally prepare seeing as all she wants is a little girl to treat like a doll.”
Jake laughed. “Is it wrong I kinda hope it is a boy?”
Stella grinned. “Nope, I was thinking the same. She’s asked me to be with her when it’s born.”
“I’m not surprised.” Jake wrinkled his nose. “Dick’s gonna be about as much use as a knife in a gun fight.”
“Knives can be very useful in a gun fight, if you know how to use them.”
“Oooh I love it when you talk dirty, babe.” Jensen smirked and dropped his head to kiss her softly. His right hand moved from its spot on her arm to stroking her hip, tracing a path down the outside of her thigh. His fingers softly traced shapes on her warm, wet skin just to the side of her knee before he moved his touch up her leg again then across to her abdomen. Stella sighed against his mouth, as her head lolled to the right. Jensen’s mouth moved, trailing a line down her neck, nipping at the hinge of her jaw. 
He was growing hard against her, Stella could feel it, and the way his fingers were ghosting over her made her skin tingle and her body shiver. "Jake," she whimpered. "Yeah, baby?" His fingers found the tuft of curls and then her nub. "You gonna sing for me, Stells?" He encircled her clit with his fingertip and drew back up. "Let me play that pussy?" “Fuck...” she groaned, leaning further back into him, her body sagging into his. She loved his dirty talk, being so in control for most of the time, she enjoyed letting herself go when it came to this. “Feels good, Jakey.” "Yeah? You like it when I touch you, feel my fingers inside? Stretching you for my dick?" He dipped two fingers inside, his thumb able to press into her sensitive clit. "Jesus, fuck," Stella gasped as he moved into her. The thickness of his fingers felt like she was on fire and had her silently begging his foreplay wasn't long. "So fucking wet already, babe." Jake was enjoying the feel of her on his fingers. It'd been a long while since he'd felt all of her and he hid his desperation well behind dirty words and filthy ministrations. His mouth moved down her neck, teeth gently nipping at her skin as he went, lips curling into a smirk as he listened to her softly groaning. Her hips moving in time with his hand as his fingers curled inside her.  Water began to just teeter over the tubs edge but neither paid any mind. Stella's breathy pants bounced off of Jake's cheek as he watched himself finger fuck her. "I love it when you fuck my fingers, baby." "Oh God," Stella squeaked, for she was going to hit that edge and fall right over. The time between, the angst of their mission and Jake's mouth were nearing too much. "Jakey, please," she moaned. "Cum on my fingers, Stells, then I'm gonna fuck you, really...really... good." With each 'really' Jake barely rutted against Stella, just enough to tease her at what he wanted to do to her. He wanted to slide in, slow and deep, her body seated on top his, while he feasted on her nipples and neck. He wanted to be buried into her to the hilt and paint her walls with his seed. Stella came undone as her body quaked against his chest. With a breathy squeak she went rigid and her hand flew from the side of the tub, wrapping around is wrist as she came, her walls clamping around his fingers "Fuck, Stella, turn around baby, sit on my lap." She was as languid as the water around them, her body drowning in ecstasy as Jake helped her turn in the small space. His fully erect and throbbing cock stood at attention, his head just above the water’s surface. He guided Stella just where he wanted her and slowly dipped inside her still trembling walls. The sensation was more than Stella had bargained for and she moaned out loudly as she sank into him. "That's it baby, let them hear you" Jake bucked a bit into her, closing the gap that Stella was slowly shortening, his cock fully inside her and he moaned himself. She felt so good, so tight. Like there was no one else made for him but her. The thought gave him a flutter deep in his belly. She was his, and would be forever, if she'd have him. Stella rolled her hips against his, grinding down the pressure on her sensitive clit while Jake's lips moved over her skin, nearing her pert nipples. His hands wove around her back, fingers pressing into her spine as he bobbed his hips up and down to meet with her rolls. It was a dirty grind, water sloshing out of the tub like waves licking the shore. When Jake found a nipple and rolled it between his lips, his tongue tasting her flesh and his teeth nipping at it, Stella tugged at the little bits of longer hair atop Jake's head as she squeaked out a pleasurable sound. One of Jake's large hands palmed down her back and over the curve of her ass, squeezing her cheek as she rocked all whilst he played with her breasts. The same hand soon found its way between their bodies and pressed hard into her clit before smoothing upward over her tummy and grasping her left breast, kneading it gently. The more he gave, the more she took and before long she was grinding down against him, her breathing ragged as he thrust up, hard, his hands dropping to her hips.  “Come on baby,” he groaned as her head fell back, his lips nipping against her collar bone, “fuck, I love you.” “Love you.” She groaned as he thrust up, her hands curling over his shoulders, nails biting his skin. “Shit, Jakey, I’m gonna...” “Cum baby, come on.” His jaw clenched as her body trembled and her eyes fluttered closed, as she let out a broken, whispered groan. As she clenched around him, Jake gave a soft growl of his own, his hips moving slightly faster as he rutted up, pulling her down onto him. The coil in his abdomen that had been tightening and tightening snapped and his entire body surrendered, a surge of warmth spreading from his belly outwards and he stilled, his cock twitching as he came. A few sloppy thrusts later and he stilled with a satisfied him, his hands moving to smooth Stella’s damp hair back off her face as hers cupped his cheeks. She simply looked at him for a moment and he gave her a grin causing her to chuckle as she pressed a soft kiss to his mouth.  “Jesus Christ, that was amazing.” Jensen mumbled and Stella grinned, her lips meeting his once more. They stayed still for a moment, soft kisses being shared until Stella shivered a little and Jake helped her move off him so he could get out of the tub and leave her to finish off. He grabbed a towel and his glasses from the basin unit before he dried off, gathered his discarded clothes and headed onto the small landing of the accommodation. Pooch, who was just emerging from the other bedroom shot him a look. “You better clean that damned bathroom before I use it.” He arched his eyebrow and Jensen grinned. “You’re like the best disgusting person I know.” Pooch continued with a snort before he nodded his head to the stairs. “Take it you’re two ain’t coming?” “Already came, Poochy.” Jensen grinned as he walked to their bedroom, laughing as the sounds of Pooch’s groans of disgust hit his ears.
****
Stella woke the next morning to a burning deep in her core and Jake’s face between her legs. Her orgasm roused her much better than any alarm or cup of coffee ever could and as Jake stuffed himself insider her, his mouth nipping softly at her neck, she smiled softly to herself as she realised he’d done this very thing the first morning they’d moved up to college together.
After pulling on her Army Uniform cargo pants, Stella tucked her khaki green tee into the waist and adjusted the belt before she sat down and laced up her heavy boots as Jake fiddled with the collar of his, complaining that it felt tight. When Stella pointed out he was slightly more built than he had been last time he wore it a good few months ago, he grinned and flexed his arms to give her the ‘gun show’ making her snort and shake her head.
They headed out of the house and walked the half a mile to the main gate of the base, flashing their ID and making their way to the Mess for breakfast where they met with the rest of the team, Pooch giving them another filthy look as their antics had continued beyond the bathroom and much later into the night. Once they’d finished eating, they each grabbed a coffee to go and headed down to the War Rooms - a network of conference rooms and IT facilities nestled in a bunker along the runway of the RAF Base - and settled down in the leather seats around the large, polished mahogany table ready for whoever it was from the CIA that would be arriving to give the debrief.
They’d been there for roughly half an hour or so and Jensen was already bored. He was messing around, twirling his pen in-between his fingers, the other tapping against the disposable coffee cup. After a pause, he took his pen and began to draw a face on the white plastic lid.
“What are you doing?” Stella looked at him, having caught his fiddling in the corner of her eye.
“I’m bored, Stelly,” his voice was a childish whine, “where is this guy anyway? We’ve been waiting here for like thirty minutes!”
“Just take the fucking pen off him, Arty.” Roque groaned. Stella reached over for it and snatched it away”
“Hey, that’s mine!”
“Jensen, shut up!” Roque shot back and Jensen turned to him.
“Why? It’s not like anyone is talking anyway.”
“You, you’re talking. As usual. Put a sock in it.” Roque turned to Stell as Clay stood up and walked to the door to see if anyone was coming. “How the fuck do you put up with this?”
“He has his mouth busy most of the time.” Stella quipped as she leaned back in the chair and Jensen gave her a dopey grin.
Both Roque and Pooch let out noises of disgust, Cougar’s chuckle just audible from the other side of the table where he lounged with his feet on the table and his hat pulled down over his eyes.
“Yeah, laugh all you want but next time it’s you sharing the digs with them.” Pooch looked at him. “I’m done.”
“Chill out.” Cougar replied and Pooch blinked.
“Did you just tell me to chill?”
Cougar smirked in response, tipping his hat up slightly to flash Pooch a wink.
“The Pooch is perfectly chilled.”
“The Pooch refers to himself in the third person,” Jensen shook his head, “that’s so not chill.”
“Oh…this just got even better.” Clay’s remark had them all turning towards him, the teasing banter dying off as Roque sat up.
“What?”
Clay simply walked into the room, rolling his eyes. Less than five seconds later, in walked a very familiar face.
“Oh great.” Jake mumbled as Stella blinked, coming face to face with her ex for the first time since he’d stormed out of her apartment all those months ago.
“Good Morning.” Evan greeted them all before he nodded to Stella, a little awkwardly. “Hey.”
“Evan, hi... what are you... what are you doing here?” She asked and Evan took a deep breath.
“It was my intel you guys were running down so I’m here for debrief.”
“That was your intel?” Pooch spoke and Evan nodded.
“Yeah, we’ve been tracking Khalil for a while and reached out to him a while ago to offer him a deal. He declined so we needed to bring him in.” Evan nodded. “His activities were giving us cause for concern, not to mention with the Russians behind him. We needed to make the grab before he got even more power behind his cause.”
Jake sensed Stella tensing slightly besides him and slid his hand over her thigh. Her fingers gently locked over his as she kept her gaze on Evan, who had spotted the subtle movement of Jake’s hand. He didn’t say anything, instead the man’s eyes flicked to Jake’s who simply stared back before Roque chipped in.
“So, we got the guy. Did he give you what you needed?”
“I can’t tell you that.” Evan replied, apologetically. “It’s classified, need to know basis.”
“In that case I don’t wanna know.” Pooch mumbled.
Stella’s mind was whirling. Truth be told, she’d started to think about exactly why they’d been dispatched to capture this particular guy alive, when his type were ten-a-penny all over the place. There was a lot more to it than the fact this guy’s ideologies didn’t fit with those of the Western World.  And then, the final little piece dropped into place in her analytical brain and she turned her head to see Clay watching her.
“Did you know?” She asked.
Clay shook his head. “Suspected but…”
“Suspected what?” Jensen looked at Clay then Stella. “Babe?”
She took a deep breath. “There’s a reason why we were on a capture not kill mission. At first I assumed it was to do with not making him a martyr but then throwing him in prison would cause just as much unrest. But that unrest will die down when he’s released in a few months in exchange for his cooperation for details on his Russian backers and arms suppliers.”
The rest of the team looked at her, then to Evan who blinked, his face remaining stoic as Stella shook her head and continued.
“He then lets his supporters know that he and his friends in Russia had a disagreement and he was traded away. He retires to some island somewhere, under the careful watch of the UN and fades away into non-existence.”
There was silence and Evan took a deep breath, “it’s not quite as simple as that, Stel…Stevenson, but yeah, that’s pretty much the basics.”
“God, this is so fucking bent.” Stella shook her head. “It’s no wonder the entire world hates us.”
“You know, considering you technically work for the CIA and the Armed Forces, you kinda signed up for this.” Clay raised his eyebrow as Stella rolled her eyes.
“We tried to negotiate terms with him. He turned them down.” Evan replied, matter-of-factly. “So we sent you in to enforce them. The rest, as I stated a minute or so ago, you really don’t need to know.”
“Yeah, classified, we heard.” Clay replied, leaning back in his chair.
“Did you suspect the Lebanese Special Service would try a double cross?” Roque looked at Evan and the man shot him an apologetic look.
“It was always possible, yeah. But you know how it goes…”
Roque scoffed and Cougar shifted in his seat, Evan’s eyes flicking to him before he took a deep breath and shrugged.
“If it helps, think of the bigger picture. We remove their leader, cut off the Russian support, and suddenly the LFP is nothing more than an overhyped street gang...”
“Yeah, that doesn’t really help.” Jensen wrinkled his nose and Evan shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes.
“Well, that’s your opinion. Not ours.” He cleared his throat, “anyway, it’s done. The mission is over. For now, you guys need to lay low. We’ve cleared it with the RAF for you to stay in the area for a while until all the fuss about Khalil going missing has died down. We’ll be monitoring all the usual lines and channels of communication, making sure no one has your descriptions and doing what we can to keep your faces out of the public eye.” Evan paused. “But, I’m sure I don’t need to remind you what happens if we can’t.”
At that The Losers simply looked at one another. Evan was right, they didn’t need reminding. That was the whole point of the CIA running the number of Black-Ops teams it did. It gave them a way to do the slightly grey area dirty jobs and remain at arm’s length, denying all responsibility if required.
“Any idea on how long that’s gonna be?” Pooch asked. 
“Probably be a week, maybe two. But once we’re confident we’re clear, we’ll send word and get you back to the US.” Evan replied.
“So what you’re saying is we got two weeks off?” Cougar spoke and Evan looked at him, giving a shrug.
Pooch grinned and fist bumped Cougar.
“Are you staying here too?” Jensen looked at Evan and he shook his head.
“Don’t worry, I’m flying back to Virginia tonight”
“I’m not really worried…” Jake shrugged. There was a moment where both men simply stared at each other until Clay coughed.
“Right, is there anything else?”
“Mission reports due as usual, next forty eight hours.” Evan turned his head away from Jensen and looked around the team. “I’ve arranged access into the Red Network from the hub on the base. Your liaison officer, Wing Commander Levinson, says he can set you guys up with time on the range or the phys- ops courses too, have you join their drills if you want. Might be an idea to keep yourselves sharp.”
Cougar, Pooch and Jake all groaned at the suggestion of the physical training whilst Roque and Stella looked at one another, nodding.
“Yeah, I can go for that.” Roque agreed.
“And that’s it, other than on behalf of the CIA I wanted to thank you, it was a slick operation. We’re really pleased with how this one turned out.”
The team exchanged looks and soft smiles, before Clay stood up.
“Okay, Losers. Let’s grab some more coffee and then we can regroup. Figure out what we do for the next two weeks.
Movement filled the room as they all stood to leave, and just as Stella had picked up her empty coffee cup, Evan cleared his throat.
“Stella, can I have a word?”
She hesitated and Jake turned to look at her. He opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off. “Jakey, it’s fine. Go, I’ll catch you up.”
He blinked, before he turned to Evan, the glare he gave him positively filthy before he turned and left the room. Evan and Stella stood still watching him go, before Stella turned to Evan, the man giving her a soft smile.
“You look well. Being happy suits you.” His tone carried no anger, and Stella found herself returning his smile before she sighed and shook her head.
“Listen Evan, I...”
“It’s okay Stella,” he spoke, holding his hand up, “I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to apologize. I was an asshole when you broke up with me.” Stella took a deep breath as he continued. “The way I acted and the things I said were horrible. My mother would be ashamed and I just ...” he shrugged. “I wanted to let you know I was sorry, that’s all.”
Slightly surprised at his outwardly contrite tone, Stella simply shook her head. “It’s okay. You were hurt. I hurt you.”
“Yeah you did but that doesn’t excuse the way I reacted. So, like I said, I’m sorry.” He smiled, gesturing with his hand to the door. “And I’m glad that you and Jake are, you know, making it work.”
As he spoke the final like, that tell-tale nerve in his jaw twitched a little and Stella knew that he wasn’t happy, at all. But, given that the rest of his apology had been genuine, she accepted the gesture for what it was.
“Thank you.” She gave a soft smile. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. I did like you Ev, it just…”
“It wasn’t meant to be.” He shrugged. “Yeah, I get that now. And hey, no hard feelings. If we hadn’t broken up I’d never have met Talia so…”
“Oh, you’re seeing someone?”
“Yeah.” Evan nodded. “It’s early days, we’ve had a few dates and been away for a weekend. She’s nice, I like her.”
“Good, well I hope it works out.” Stella smiled. There was a pause before she took a breath. “I better…” she jerked her hand towards the door and Evan nodded.
“Of course…”
“I’ll, erm, see you around, yeah?”
“Yeah, take care, Stella.”
“You too, Evan.”
With a final smile at one another, Stella left the room and headed back up the corridor. Jake was waiting outside for her, leaning against the wall of the building.
“All okay?” He asked and she nodded.
“Yeah.”
“What did he want?”
“To apologise for the way he acted when we broke up.” Stella shrugged. “That was it, oh, and he’s seeing someone else. Which is nice. I hope it works for him. He’s a good guy.”
Jensen made a non-committal noise in his throat and Stella looked at him. “Don’t start.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You don’t need to.” Stella rolled her eyes. “Stop.”
“Okay, okay, sorry. I just, well, I don’t know what it is but I still don’t trust him, never have. He’s shady.”
“He’s an intel officer for the CIA.” Stella scoffed, taking Jake’s hand. “We’re a Black-Ops team. Far more shady than he is.”
“Suppose.” Jensen sniffed, as the two of them walked down the side of the building. As they went, Jensen suddenly had a sense of unease. Almost as if they were being watched. He turned his head to glance over his shoulder, but found no one. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head, telling himself he was being ridiculous. They were on a secure Military Base, probably the safest place they could be given the circumstances.
“You okay?” Stella asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” he assured her, “so, the rest of The Losers are in the coffee shop. Pooch is already on his phone checking out local bars, fancy hitting a few tonight?”
“Why not?” Stell grinned up at him, leaning up to place a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. Jake smiled, and pulled her closer as they headed off to join up with the rest of the team, casting a final glance over his shoulder, once more seeing nothing out of the ordinary.
**** Chapter 10
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rockhoochie · 7 years ago
Text
No Apologies
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(*Edit, previously titled “He Brings Me Sugar”)
Pairing: Dean/OFC
Warnings: Adult Content, Smut, Slow Burn, Somewhat Dubious Consent, Angst, Prescription Drug Abuse, Drinking, Knife play (very brief), Minor OC (sibling) Death, Language, Oral Sex (M/F receiving).
Summary: After losing her sister Anna to a demon, the Winchesters have taken Lexi under their wing. She studies and trains with them, tense friction quickly growing between her and Dean. When Sam and Castiel leave to take care of the demon that killed Anna without her, the levee of tension amidst Lexi and Dean breaks, flowing into something neither of them expected.
A/N: This is an edit of a fic I’ve posted previously. I meant to write a brief smutty one-shot and ended up developing the OFC a bit. Since the word count is 10K+, I decided to chapter it out. There may still be some errors, so please forgive me as I haven’t had this beta’d yet. Thank you for reading and as always, if you’d like to be tagged just send an ask!
**My work is not to be copied, altered, posted on other sites or otherwise used without my express written permission**
 Chapter 3
I had been living with Sam and Dean for about six months no, ever since my life had been turned completely and insanely upside down. Ever since my house had been burned down by a demon. Ever since that same demon had possessed my sister Anna and made her snap her own neck…
It had just been Anna and me. Our parents were gone, killed in a car accident almost two years ago. Anna had resolved to stay home with me after our parents’ funeral. They had left the house to us in their will – rather than try to deal with selling it, we moved in. Although sometimes painful, living in our childhood home again, surrounded by our parents’ possessions and essence was comforting in its own bittersweet way.
Sam had been only halfway through the exorcism when Anna was killed. Dean had been holding me from behind as I simply cried and screamed for my sister. I watched, helpless and confused and terrified as the demon glared me with eyes black as obsidian. It cackled with Anna’s voice, and unceremoniously twisted her head almost the whole way around. The demon left her then, in a thick black vine of smoke that reeked of sulfur, and making the most wretched squealing sound I had ever heard. Dean’s grip loosened on me as her body hit the floor. I had run over to Anna and held her, stroking her hair as my tears fell into her open, dead eyes, not caring that the flames licking the walls were gaining more and more strength. Sam had yelled repeatedly at Dean to get me out; Dean had to coax and scream and pry me away from my little sister. He had dragged me out of the burning house – literally kicking and screaming – as I watched Sam pour a copious amount of rock salt over Anna’s corpse.
Once Dean had gotten us a safe distance away and Sam had run out of the burning house, everything I had left in me vanished as I collapsed on the street. The brothers stayed with me the entire time, through the police and fireman interrogations, through the paramedic examination. The EMT’s kept telling me how lucky I was. I kept silently telling them to go fuck themselves.
Once the fire was out and Anna’s body had been wheeled away, all I could do was tremble, and repeatedly ask Sam and Dean what hell happened, what’s going on, what was that thing. They tried their best to calm me and explain. My head swam along with my tears as they told me that monsters were real, that they were hunters – the kind of hunters that kill the things that everyone else dismissed as fairy tales. They told me were demons real, angels were too, but God had left the building…and vampires and werewolves and even dragons absolutely existed outside of nightmares. At first, I thought they were insane, or that everything that had happened had caused me to go off the deep end.
They took me to their car, a black ’67 Impala, and showed me the contents of the trunk. Guns, knives, bullets, a goddamn machete. Dean reached for and opened a leather-bound journal, and flipping the pages slowly as I peered at them. They were full of hand drawn pictures of awful creatures, of handwritten information about each one – what is was, where it came from, and how to kill it.
Despite the obvious proof, I maintained the position that either I was losing my mind or they were certifiable lunatics.
Deep down I knew it was all true - nothing else could explain it. The weight of accepting that truth crushed anything that remained of my heart that night.
That demon had destroyed the only home and family had left. The only thing I was able to walk away with were the clothes on my back and the necklace I wore – a heart-shaped silver pendant with a single diamond embedded near the top, a single silver angel wing decorating the right side, and the words “Big Sister” engraved in simple print. Anna had one that matched – the only difference was the angel wing on the left side, and the engraved phrase “Little Sister”. We had found them in our mother’s closet, already wrapped in Christmas paper, tucked away amongst other gifts and boxes. Mom had always called us her angels on earth.
One of the EMTs had slipped Anna’s necklace into my hand. I slid the pendant off the chain, and joined it with my own. I silently promised my sister retribution. Whatever it took, wherever I had to go, I was going to destroy the thing that murdered her or die trying.
When Sam asked me if I had someone to call or someone I could stay with, I had shaken my head ‘no’. I had some friends out of state I could’ve called, but I couldn’t even bring myself to consider leaving. I needed answers about what had happened to Anna, and I was hellbent on revenge. I had told them I’d get a hotel for now, but Sam said he didn’t feel comfortable just leaving me alone. That demon was still out there somewhere, and chances were it was going to come after me.
That night they brought me to the bunker.
I sat at the library table in silence, watching Dean unpack his gear while Sam got a room ready for me.
“Hey,” Dean had said, “When’s the last time you ate anything?”
“Not hungry,” I mumbled.
“Not what I asked you.”
“I don’t know, sometime yesterday…”
Dean walked into the kitchen, leaving me to stare at the strange arsenal he had laid out in front of me - a sawed-off shotgun, several knives, bloody clothes and flasks – either full of holy water or whiskey.
He returned with a small plate and a fork, setting a piece of cherry pie in front of me.
“I’d rather have a drink,” I mumbled.
“Pie first.”
I cut a small piece, forcing myself to take one small bite after another until I finished it, trying to at least find some comfort in its sweetness. I licked the last of the thick filling off of my fork, and ran my finger along the sides of my lips to clean off any trace that may have remained.
When I looked up, I found Dean staring at me, his lips parted, his green eyes fixed on me.
“What is it?” I asked. “Is there some on my face?”
He blinked with a slight shake of his head and leaned back in his chair.
“No,” he said. “I just…I’m sorry for everything you went through tonight. I know how it is to lose family, and…”
“Thanks,” I whispered.
“Here,” he said, handing me a silver flask. “You can have that drink now”.
***
I had stayed in my room for three days after I got there, only leaving to use the bathroom. For the most part, Sam and Dean gave me my space. Sam would knock twice a day, come in and bring me food. Sometimes we would make small talk. Sometimes we would just sit there in silence, until he would put a movie on for me. He’d hold me while I cried, listen calmly when I screamed.
Dean had been present, but had kept himself fairly distant. On the morning of my third day at the bunker, I woke to find a pint of Jack Daniels and slice of cherry pie on my night stand. I knew that was from him. As great as Sam was about being attentive to my emotions, Dean knew what I didn’t know I really needed – sugar and booze. I washed down the pie with the whiskey, and spent the rest of the day getting blissfully drunk while watching old western movies.
On the fourth day, I finally came out of my room with a staggering hangover. That was the day I met Castiel, and experienced the glorious magic that was angelic healing. Cas had simply touched two fingers to my forehead, erasing the lingering physical pain I had from the night Anna died, healing the cuts and bruises covering my body. Even my hangover was gone. It was also the day I asked Sam and Dean to teach me everything they knew.
Sam read through lore and research with me, quizzing me on what the most common creatures were and how to kill them. He showed me the best places to look for the rare, odd things, and told me to who to call if I got stuck on something. I studied symbols, warding, summoning spells and credit card fraud. Sam was patient and warmhearted while he taught me, leading me to correct my own wrong answers and guiding me step-by-step as I practiced sketching Devil’s Traps. Sam quickly became like a big brother to me – that was the reason I picked him to take me to get the anti-possession tattoo on the back of my neck.
Dean led me in the more hands-on aspects of hunting. He taught me how to handle the guns, how to clean them, how to put them back together. He showed me the different bullets, the rock salt shells and the witch killers. He gave me a hunting knife, a lock-pick kit, and finally my own Glock.
We also spent time sparring, practicing hand to hand fighting. He never held back with me, saying that if I was going to have his or his little brother’s six, I’d better damn well know how to fight.
Dean was tough on me, critical, demanding perfection from everything he was trying to teach me. It only took about two weeks before started grating on each other. The more comfortable I got around him, the more he learned that not only could I take it, but I could dish it right back to him. That seemed to piss him off, and I found myself secretly enjoying it.
One particular day in the shooting range we really had it out. I was holding my Glock, trying to aim at the target and he would just not shut up. My stance was wrong, I wasn’t holding the gun the right way, what did I think this was, the goddamn movies? I finally cracked that day, screaming at him to get the fuck out of my face and back the hell off. I had stormed off, hiding myself in an archive room for the next several hours. When I finally returned to my room, there was a pint of Jack Daniels and a slice of pie sitting on my nightstand. By that time, I had learned how high pie was on Dean’s list of priorities. So, with a smile, I took the gesture as an apology and forgave him.
After a couple of months, I went out on some simple hunts with them – a spirit here, a poltergeist there. Sam was proud of me. Dean was impressed. I wanted to do more. Despite my insistence and protestations, they left me behind on the more difficult hunts - vampire nests, werewolf packs, things that hunted in twos, or anything demon-related.
Whenever they left me behind, I resigned myself to trying to track down the demon that killed Anna. I looked for patterns, strange sightings, any hint that the thing was still around. Sam and Dean tortured any demon they came across to get information before destroying or exoring them. Not one of them knew anything, or if they did, they weren’t talking. Dean had even summoned Crowley to interrogate him. After Crowley spent an eternity talking in circles and flirting with me, he insisted he knew nothing about my sister, or which one of his minions may have killed her. He did however, offer to make finding it out for me his top priority in exchange for my soul. Dean had cursed at him for that, charging at him with Ruby’s knife. Crowley vanished with a snap of his fingers before Dean could even get close to him.
I kept hunting, kept researching, kept hoping. I made it extremely clear to Sam and Dean that I was going to be the one to destroy that demon once it dared to show up again. They never protested, but never seemed too thrilled with the idea either.
It was comforting knowing I had people who had my back – hell, it was comforting to know that an actual angel had my back. Any time they left and hunted without me it filled me with dread. The Winchesters were the best at what they did, but if anything ever happened to them I’d be lost. I couldn’t imagine life without Sam, the brother I never had. I couldn’t even imagine life without Dean…the Dean I never had.
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