#we'll need Bobby for that

[billiewena]

thinking about how the only time bobby and cas interact in season four is when he knocks him out cold to talk to dean alone. and the next time bobby sees him, cas is powerless and just comes to steal dean's necklace in a weird interaction that had to be filmed close-up because dean and cas are just inches from each other's face. the next time is an offscreen interaction where he just gets dean's address from bobby and probably left immediately after. combine this with the fact that bobby knew dean had a male siren the season before (and tried to be supportive) and let cas be in the family photo a few episodes later, there is a nonzero chance bobby singer was the first destiel shipper.

[phoenixiancrystallist]

D'you ever see a subfolder in your WIPs folder and then start giggling like a loon?

One of those items is the folder for posted fics, and one is for scraps. The other 41 are aaaaaaaaall things y'all have to look forward to eventually :3

[obessivedork]

Holy shit the section in Far Harbor where you go into DiMA's memories is SO weird and COOL I love it!

[foolwife]

i want to see him at his worst dude . theres no way this dude investigates murders regularly and doesnt at least start to question the justice thing a little

[archiveofvirtue]

BETWEEN THE LINES ⸻ dean winchester

content / dean winchester x fem!reader, hunter!reader, enemies to friends-lovers, bickering, teasing, dean being a lil perv, comfort, fluff, dean being vulnerable, 2.3k words

summary / you and Dean hated eachother, but what if a single night in a shared bed suddenly changes everything? and sudden confessions making you question the dynamics between you two more than ever..

Dean’s Impala rolled to a stop, headlights cutting through the night as he pulled into the lot of a seriously sketchy-looking motel. You glanced at the flickering neon sign—“Motel Haven”—and sighed, trying not to roll your eyes too hard. Classic Dean move.

"Of all the motels, Dean," you muttered, climbing out of baby and slamming the door harder than you intended to.

He walked around the car, his face lighting up with that familiar smug grin. "You don't like my choice in accommodations, sweetheart?"

You shot him a glare sharp enough to cut through steel. "You know I hate when you call me that."

"Yeah, I know," he replied with a grin that made you want to slap it right off his face.

You gritted your teeth, fighting the urge to say something that would start an argument you didn't have time for. If it weren’t for Bobby literally demanding you two to work together, you’d be counting down the days until you could go back to your solo hunts. But here you were, chasing down reports of a rogue werewolf pack in a small town, stuck working together despite the mutual dislike.

To you Dean Winchester was infuriating, arrogant, and absolutely full of himself. And the worst part? He was damn good at what he did, which only made you dislike him more.

You quickly followed him into the motel office, where the bored-looking clerk barely acknowledged your presence. Dean asked for a room, and after a moment, the clerk handed him a single key.

"Only one room left," the man nagged, sounding as though he couldn't care less. "Double bed."

Dean suppressed a groan and glanced over at you, looking like you might actually punch someone.

Just then your patience snapped. "You've got to be kidding me," you said, voice laced with disbelief. "There's nothing else?"

"Nope," the clerk replied, his monotone voice sending a wave of irritation through you. "Take it or leave it."

Dean shrugged, as if this wasn't the worst news you’d heard all day. He grabbed the key from the counter and turned to you with that insufferable smirk. "Looks like we're bunking together, sweetheart."

You grabbed your bag and stormed out. Just when you thought this job couldn’t get worse. The idea of sharing a room with Dean Winchester was already bad enough, but a bed? This was some kind of sick joke.

When you two walked into the room, it was worse than you’d expected. The double bed took up most of the space, leaving little room for anything else. You could feel Dean's eyes on you as you both realized the inevitable.

He was the first to break the silence. "Guess we'll be getting cozy tonight," he said, trying to hide his amusement.

You shot him a sneering glare. "You lay one finger on me, and I'll break it."

Dean just chuckled, tossing his bag onto the bed and kicking off his boots. "Relax, princess. I'll stay on my side."

You wanted to punch him. Instead, you grabbed your bag and headed for the bathroom. Once inside, you shut the door behind you, not realizing that it snapped back just a little, leaving it slightly ajar.

You needed to change into something comfortable and try to ignore the fact that you were about to spend the night in the same bed as the most irritating man you’d ever met.

Dean stretched on the mattress with his hands behind his head, and couldn't help but glance toward the door when he heard you moving around.

Through the slit in the door, he caught a glimpse of you slipping out of your tight jeans and into a pair of loose-fitting pajama pants. Your shirt came off next, replaced by a simple tank top that hugged you in ways that made his heart stop. Dean's eyes lingered longer than he intended, drawn to the way your body moved with unconscious grace.

You were still trying to push down the anxiety that was beginning to bubble up inside you. It was just one night. You could handle it. You could handle anything. But you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

That's when you noticed him. But it wasn't until you turned fully and caught his eye through the crack in the door that Dean realized he'd been staring. His heart skipped a beat as he quickly looked away. For a second, you froze, a mix of surprise and something you didn't want to name running through you. Then, annoyance took over.

"Really, Dean?" You said, voice cutting through the silence. You could see the way he flinched, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Didn't think you were that much of a pervert."

Dean's face turned red, and he stammered out some half-baked excuse. "I—uh, I wasn't—"

"Save it," you interrupted, stepping out of the bathroom with a satisfied grin. "You're not as sneaky as you think, Winchester."

He looked so flustered, so unlike his usual cocky self. Dean groaned, cursing himself for getting caught. He could feel his face burning with embarrassment, something that rarely happened to him, and the fact that you were obviously enjoying this only made it worse.

The great Dean Winchester, brought down by a little harmless teasing.

"Oh, this is rich," you continued, unable to resist twisting the knife just a little. "Dean Winchester, the big bad hunter, getting all flustered over a little peek. Who knew you could get so shy?"

Dean's jaw tightened, and you could tell he was struggling to regain his composure. "I wasn't flustered," he mumbled, his voice lacking its usual confidence. "Just surprised, that's all."

"Uh-huh," you replied, letting the moment stretch out just a little longer before finally dropping it. "Sure you were."

You climbed into bed beside him, still grinning, and Dean felt the mattress dip under your weight. The closeness was suddenly overwhelming. It wasn't that he hadn't noticed you before—he had.

You were tough, smart, and definitely attractive. But you were also infuriating, always pushing his buttons, always getting under his skin. So the fact that he was attracted to you only made things more complicated.

Finally getting into bed, you stretched out as much as possible to keep your distance, but it didn’t help. The bed was just too small, and you could feel him lying next to you, close enough that it was hard to ignore his presence.

The room fell into silence, which only made the whole situation feel stranger. Trying to ignore him wasn’t working, and after a few long minutes, you couldn’t hold in the thoughts that had been building up in your head.

"Why do we do this?" You asked, your voice softer than he'd ever heard it.

Dean turned his head to look at you, his expression unreadable. "Do what?"

"This," you said, waving a hand around vaguely. "This life. Hunting. It's dangerous, it's lonely...it's hell, half the time. Why do we keep doing it?"

You haven’t meant to ask him that, hadn't even meant to bring it up, but now that the words were out, you couldn't take them back. And somehow, you found yourself genuinely wanting to know his answer.

Dean didn't answer right away. You could see the gears turning in his mind. It was a question he'd asked himself more times than he could count, but hearing it from you somehow made it feel heavier, like the answer actually mattered.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more thoughtful than you’d ever heard it. "Because it's all we know. Because we're good at it. And because if we don't, who will?"

You nodded, considering his words. "Yeah, I guess that's part of it. But sometimes I wonder...what if there's more to life than this? What if we're missing out on something better?"

He turned to face you, his eyes surprisingly gentle. "You think about getting out?"

"Sometimes. But it's not like I have anywhere else to go. This life...it's all I've got."

Dean sighed, and you could tell that he understood exactly what you meant. He definitely knew that feeling all too well. This life had taken over both of you in ways that were hard to explain. And yet, here you were, still in it together.

"It's not all bad," Dean said after a moment, trying to lighten the mood. "I mean, you've got me for company, right?"

You rolled your eyes, yet not being able to hold back the small smile that tugged at your lips. "Lucky me."

Both of you fell silent again, but this time it felt different, less tense. Dean could feel the connection between you, something deeper than the constant teasing and bickering that usually defined your relationship. It was like you were finally seeing each other, really seeing each other, for the first time.

Dean hesitated before he shifted. You felt the mattress dip as he moved closer, your body stiffening, not sure what to expect, but then you felt his hand brush against yours under the covers. He expected you to pull away, but you didn't. Then, almost instinctively, you turned your hand over and laced your fingers through his.

The gesture was simple, but it felt like so much more.

"Y/n," he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Yeah?" You whispered back, heart pounding in your chest.

"I know we drive each other crazy," he began, his words slow and genuine. "But...you're a hell of a hunter. And you're tough. And smart. And...I respect the hell out of you, even if it doesn't always seem like it."

His words took you by surprise, and for a moment, you didn't know how to respond. But then you looked at him, really looked at him, you realized that he meant every word.

"I respect you too, Dean," you said quietly. "Even when you're being a cocky bitch sometimes."

He chuckled softly, and you could feel some of the tension in the room fade. "Fair enough."

Both of you stayed like that, hands entwined, a strange but comforting closeness settling between you. In that moment, something shifted. There was still the banter and the usual irritation, but now you saw something deeper—a real connection you hadn’t expected.

Eventually, you moved even closer, resting your head on his shoulder. Dean stiffened at first, but then he relaxed, letting himself enjoy the closeness. It wasn't often that he allowed anyone to see this side of him.

And for a moment it was strange how natural it felt to be this close to Dean, the man who had driven you insane since the day you two met. Yet, here you were, enjoying being close to each other.

Your mind drifted back to the hunts you had been on together, the near misses, the arguments, the unspoken tension that always seemed to hang between you. It was easier to keep your walls up, to push each other's buttons instead of admitting that maybe, just maybe, there was something more beneath the surface.

Dean was really letting himself fall into the comfort of your touch, then turned his head slightly to look down at you. "You know," he began, his voice quivering lightly, "you're not alone, y/n. I know it feels like that sometimes. But you've got people who care about you. Bobby, me... Even if we don't always show it."

The sudden sincerity in his words caught you off guard, and you felt a lump form in your throat. You weren’t used to this, to hearing someone say they cared about you. It wasn't something that you heard often. But here was Dean, saying the words you hadn’t realized you needed to hear.

"Thanks," you whispered, voice thick with emotion. "That means a lot."

Both of you lay in silence, the weight of the words hanging in the air between you. You felt a strange sense of peace settle over you, a feeling you hadn't experienced in a long time. It wasn't just the comfort of being close to someone physically; it was the comfort of knowing that you weren’t as alone as you sometimes felt.

I’m always down for some soft dean !!

feedback and requests are greatly welcomed !!

-> dean winchester masterlist!

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @alluvthegurlz @angelicjackles @lailawinchesterr @nuemanfilms @nxptvn @hischrrypie @sammyluvr

[cjlouwho]

prompt: tommy's dad shows up at the 118 out of nowhere

heads up: Tommy's dad is a homophobic asshole here, and he acts as such. Also contains references to past child abuse (hit with a belt, and knocking a kid)

Bobby was in the middle of cooking dinner with Buck, the rest of the team hanging out on the sofa, when the newest probie, Jones, came walking up the stairs. “Uh, Cap? There's a man here who wanted to talk to you.”

The man followed closely behind Jones, who went right back downstairs to continue with whatever he had been up to.

Bobby wiped his hands off on a towel before walking over to the man. “I'm Captain Nash- Bobby,” he introduced, shaking the man's hand. “How can I help you?”

“Good to meet you, Bobby,” the man replied. His shake was firm, almost aggressive. “I'm actually here looking for my kid. Haven't heard from him in a while and last he told me, he was workin' here.”

As much as Buck was trying not to be obviously nosy, he couldn't help but keep glancing over at the guy. He looked so familiar, but Buck couldn't quite place him. When the man caught Buck's eyes, he quickly looked away and grabbed a nearby can, pretending to fiddle with it.

“I'll help how I can. What's his name?”

“Thomas Kinard. I'm his father, Richard.”

The can Buck was holding dropped onto the counter with a loud thud. Everyone's head whipped in his direction.

“S- Sorry. It, um, it slipped from my, uh, my hand.”

“Uh,” Bobby turned back to Richard, “I'm sorry Mr. Kinard, but Tommy hasn't worked here in about seven and a half years.”

“Figures.” Richard shook his head. “Damn kids'll screw you over every chance they get, won't they?”

Buck hurried over to introduce himself before Bobby could even manage a response.

“Mr. Kinard, hi,” he started, wiping his hand on his pants before reaching out for a shake. “I'm Buck. Evan, um, Evan Buckley. You can call me Evan, or Buck, whichever.”

Richard stared at him in a way that Buck wasn't exactly sure what he was thinking. “Buck's a strong name. I like strong names. We'll go with Buck.”

Buck nodded. “Sure. That- That's fine.”

“So, Buck, did you work with Tom before he left here?”

That's when it hit Buck. If this man didn't even know where Tommy worked, he definitely didn't know Buck was his boyfriend. He could feel himself begin to sweat. Could sense everyone's eyes on him. “Um, no, I- I mean, yes. I work with him, um, sometimes, but not- we didn't work together h- here. So, no.”

Richard snickered. “Cat got your tongue, Kiddo?”

“Why don't you go get your phone, Buck?” Bobby suggested. “Let Tommy know his dad is here.”

“Huh? Oh, um, yes. Yeah, I'll do that.” Buck hoped and prayed to God in that moment that Richard didn't notice the phone in his pocket.

“And while Buck does that, you can have a seat.” Bobby led him over to the table, where the rest of the team was now making their way over. “Once Tommy gets here we'll have lunch.”

*****

Buck skipped every other step as he went downstairs, hurrying outside to call Tommy.

He answered on the third ring. “Hey, Evan. What's up? Everything okay?”

They may have the same job, but it didn't stop them from worrying about one another when they were on shift.

“Hey! Everything's fine, but c- can you come down to the station?”

“You miss me that much?” Tommy joked. “You're off in like four hours, Babe.”

“No, I know. I mean, yes, I miss you, but no that's not why I need you here.”

“What's going on, Evan?” He sounded worried again.

“Your... Tommy, your dad came in looking for you. He's, um, he's waiting here.”

The silence lasted so long that Buck glanced at his phone to see if the call had dropped. “Are you there, Tommy?”

Finally, Buck heard the sounds of Tommy shuffling around. “I'm on my way,” he answered. Any lingering happiness in his voice was long gone. “And Evan?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry.”

“Sorry?” Buck asked. “Why're you-”

Tommy hung up before Buck could get out the question. He sighed, put the phone in his pocket, and headed back upstairs.

“-it looks like the damn United Nations in here.”

Buck's eyes met Eddie's. It was clear he'd walked in on the middle of a conversation that shouldn't be happening.

Eddie shook his head at Buck. A silent don't ask.

Buck sat down quietly, his leg shaking with nerves and his stomach filled with knots. Tommy wasn't even there, but he already felt terrible for him as Richard happily went into a very depressing story about Tommy crying after a girl kissed him when he was twelve years old.

*****

Tommy steeled himself before walking up the stairs at the station. It took everything he had in him to not turn around and go right back home.

He couldn't do that though. Couldn't leave his father with Evan, or anyone else up there. They didn't deserve that.

“Tom had half the girls in the school chasing after him, askin' him to prom, and he still went with the most unattractive looking thing you'd ever seen.”

“Missy was not unattractive, Dad,” Tommy said from the top of the staircase. Everyone turned in his direction. “She was sweet and my best friend at the time.”

“Girl had braces twice the size of her face.”

Richard made no effort to stand and greet his son, not that Tommy expected him to.

Tommy was met with apprehensive hello's from the team, and a look of nervous concern from Evan.

“Come sit with us,” Bobby said, motioning to the seat beside Buck. “We were about to eat when your dad came in, so I figured we could have lunch together.”

“Thanks, Bobby.”

Tommy sat down stiffly, avoiding any physical contact with Evan. Not that Evan was trying anything either. He kept his hands firmly planted on his thighs.

“What are you doing here, Dad?” Tommy was purposefully avoiding eye contact with everyone else in the room. Maybe if he tried hard enough, they'd all disappear and not have to witness whatever was inevitably about to occur.

“Figured seven years was long enough to go by without seeing ya. Thought I'd stop by and see what you'd been up to.”

Bobby finished setting out the food and everyone began to pass around the dishes and fill up their plates.

“You know you could've come by my house, Dad.”

“Lost your address. You know I'm no good with computers. Plus, thought it'd be nice to see you in action.”

“Oh, well, I'm off for the next two days so... no action.”

“Where are you at now?”

“Harbor Station. I'm a pilot there, but I work ground ops sometimes too.”

“Back to flying, huh?” Richard sounded genuinely impressed. “Good. That's good. Got you a girl yet?”

The spoon Chimney had in his hand dropped loudly onto his plate as Buck choked on the bite of food in his mouth.

“Sorry,” Chimney muttered as Buck coughed.

He grabbed his water and took a couple sips. “Sorry. Sorry, uh, wrong pipe,” he explained, clearing his throat.

Tommy sighed. “Nope. No girl.”

“Well, soon. You're a good lookin' man. Get yourself out there, they'll come running.”

“Running so hard they injure their best friend,” Eddie mumbled, earning him a kick under the table from Hen.

Richard didn't seem to hear the comment, but Chimney spoke up anyway. “So, Mr. Kinard, what do you do?”

“Nothing now, but I did twenty years in the Marines, oil rigging after that. Retired about seven years now.”

“Tough work.” Hen regretted her words the second Richard puffed his chest at them.

“That's right. I always drilled into Tommy's head the importance of hard work.”

"More like knocked it in,” Tommy muttered.

The room quieted.

Richard took a sip of his drink, then opted for a subject change. “Shame I can't see where you're working now, Tom. Guess you were so busy talking about that other thing you failed to mention you were somewhere else.”

“That other thing?” Tommy repeated. “You mean me telling you I was gay and you laughing in my face? Is that the other thing you're talking about?”

“Well, it was all a load of crap, wasn't it? Just another way to disrespect your old man.” Richard looked around the room as he laughed, apparently not paying any attention to the fact that he was the only one laughing. “That was always Tom for ya. Shootin' off his mouth, causing trouble. I told him one day he'd take it too far.”

“Telling you he was gay was him taking it too far?” Hen wasn't even trying to hide the disgust on her face. Richard was too busy being an ass to notice.

“I just knew it wasn't true. He comes to my house all serious, sayin' he's got something he's gotta tell me. I thought maybe he was going back into the army, the reserves or something. Then he tells me he's a queer. I know the world is changing and all that crap, but I also know my son, and that's not my son.”

Tommy felt on the verge of tears now. He hadn't taken more than a couple bites of food, using his fork to swirl the rice and the peas. He wished more than anything he could make himself smaller. So small no one could see him. He was embarrassed and ashamed that all these people he cared about, all these people who were starting to really get to know him for all that he was, were now seeing the disgrace that was his father. That's all they'd be able to see when they looked at him, especially Evan.

Evan who somehow always looked at Tommy like he'd hung the moon and stars. Evan, who made Tommy feel so undeservingly cared for. Who had just swapped I love you's with Tommy a few weeks ago... Now, this is what he'd see. This is what he'd think about. And who could love that?

“Or maybe you just don't know your son.”

Tommy's head shot up and over at the sound of Evan's voice. He sounded angry. He looked angry. Tommy was pretty sure if he could shoot fire, the whole place would be up in flames right now.

“Excuse me?” Richard glared. “Who the hell are you to tell me whether or not I know my son?”

Before Buck even had a chance to make up some lie, Tommy was reaching over and taking his hand, squeezing tight. “He's my boyfriend,” he said.

Richard huffed out a laugh.

This time, he noticed that no one else was laughing. “You screwin' with me?”

“No. Just like I wasn't screwin' with you seven years ago, I'm not now.”

The way Richard shook his head made Tommy feel like he was seven years old again, about to get the belt for bringing a turtle in the house. “My buddy Vic told me his daughter saw you with some guy on Facebook. Called him an ass and an idiot and you're telling me he was right?”

“Is that why you really came here? To harass me and Evan?”

“I never looked at the picture!” Richard replied, his voice rising. “And I had no clue you weren't here anymore. I came here to see you, to get the truth.”

“Well, you got it.”

“That the real reason you quit the army then? So you could be a sissy?”

Tommy's eyes widened, the question catching him off guard. Out of all the ways this conversation could have gone, he didn't expect it to pivot that way. “You've got to be kidding me. Dad, I did not quit the army, I was discharged.”

“And the reasoning never really made sense to me, son, I gotta tell ya-”

“Well it doesn't have to make sense to you, it made sense to the military-”

“-because no son of mine would go crazy in the army. Absolutely ridiculous to-”

“-which is why I got to leave, and I did not go crazy I had a brief-”

“-make up some sort of excuse like that and think it would fly-”

“Okay! Okay!” Buck yelled over them, motioning for them to stop. “I think you proved whatever point you were trying to make, Richard. Let it go.”

Tommy quieted, but Richard couldn't hold his tongue.

“What?” he provoked. “That's what you said it was, didn't you? After some mission gone wrong, you didn't sleep for like a week or something. Went cuckoo so they let you leave? S'what you told me.”

“Okay,” Bobby spoke up, his voice deep and commanding. “Richard, I think you've been here long enough. You should go.”

“If my kid wants me gone he can tell me himself.”

Through his shame, Tommy managed to glare over at his dad. “I never wanted you here in the first place.” He was shaking, his heart racing, but his voice remained steady. He was grateful for that.

An eerie silence weighed heavily around the table. The two men stared each other down until Richard finally tossed his napkin onto the table and stood up, his chair screeching with the motion. “Don't have anything here for me anyway.”

That was Richard. Always had to get in the final word.

Once his dad had descended the staircase, Tommy released a deep breath. “Well, that was fun,” he said shakily, trying for a smile.

He couldn't quite seem to make one appear.

He couldn't look anyone in the eyes either. The silence was driving him insane. He knew they had to be watching him with pity.

His eyes were burning, his lip was trembling. He was so close to falling apart.

He really didn't want anyone see him, but he also knew he was too shaky to stand. He opted for planting his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands.

After a few quiet seconds, Tommy could hear everyone scooting out of their chairs.

A hand rested on his shoulder, giving it a brief squeeze. “Take your time up here,” Bobby said. “Don't worry if you hear the alarm.”

“You've got family with us, Man,” Eddie said as he passed by, giving Tommy a pat on the back.

Chimney was next with a, “Love ya, Bud.”

“Whatever you need,” Hen added as she passed by, “we've got you.”

The gentle touches and words of affirmation as each person went by was what broke him. He pressed his palms hard against his eyes as his shoulders began to shake.

There was another hand on him now. Rubbing his back in gentle, slow circles.

Evan.

“I'm here, Babe,” he said softly. “I'm here.”

The sob that escaped him at Evan's words sounded more like a whine. Tommy was sure he'd never heard himself make that noise before, but now he couldn't stop it.

Evan pulled him in, wrapping his arms around him tight. Tommy hid his face in the crook of Buck's neck, his hands loosely grabbing at Buck's waist as he continued to cry.

They stayed like that for minutes. Evan continued rubbing his back, holding him, letting him get out all the feelings he'd been holding in for years.

“I'm so sorry, Evan,” Tommy whimpered once he was able to find his voice.

Evan held him tighter. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I didn't...” his breath hitched. “That could've been me. That was... was almost me.”

“No,” Evan disagreed. “No, you're nothing like him.” He turned his head to press a kiss into Tommy's hair. “Can you look at me?”

Reluctantly, Tommy lifted his head and pulled back just enough to look Evan in the eyes.

He sniffed, his breathing starting to come back to normal. He was sure his face was puffy and red. He knew a stray tear or two was still falling too.

Evan reached up and wiped the tears away, his thumbs continuing to brush over Tommy's cheeks so he could keep his attention. “You are not and have never been that man. You understand me?”

“Evan.”

“No, I mean it, Tommy. You think Chimney and Hen would ever give him a chance?” He shook his head. “No way in hell.”

Tommy bit at his lip. “This is so stupid,” he said with a wet laugh. “Crying because my dad was mean to me, like I'm some baby or something.”

Evan ran his hands down Tommy's arms until he intertwined their hands on his lap. “Not stupid. Very reasonable, actually. Quite possibly an under-reaction.” He brought one of Tommy's hands up to his mouth and gave it a kiss. “There's only a few hours of my shift left. I'm sure Bobby wouldn't mind if I left a little early. I can drive you to your place, we'll relax with a movie. Sound good?”

Tommy knew he should say no. Knew he should tell Evan that he was a big boy and could handle a few hours alone until Evan got off work. Instead, what came out of his mouth was, “Are you sure?”

“I'm sure.”

“What about my car?”

Evan shrugged. “We'll pick it up tomorrow.”

“Okay... Okay, yeah. I probably shouldn't be driving anyway.”

After wiping away another tear, Evan leaned in and pressed his lips against Tommy's in one of the softest, yet most loving kisses Tommy had ever felt in his life.

“I love you, Tommy.”

“I love you, Evan.”

“And Eddie's right, you know? Everyone here, including me of course,” he smiled, “we're your family. You know that right?”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

[fatecantstopme]

She's My Siren

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: The boys are working a case where several men have brutally murdered their wives for no apparent reason. Turns out they were influenced by a siren. The siren sees Dean and appears to him as someone he knows.

Warnings: canon violence, cursing, use of pet names. SMUT, oral (M and F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), face sitting. Fluffy fluff fluff.

"So what do you think this is? Just a bunch of dudes ganking their wives?"

"I mean, that's what's happening," Sam replied with a shrug. "but I think something is making them do it."

"Well they're not possessed, so what's doing it?" Dean asked.

"I have no idea. Maybe we should call Bobby and (Y/N)."

Dean groaned. "She's gonna laugh at us for not figuring it out."

Sam smiled. "Probably, but we do need their help."

"Fine," Dean grumbled.

Sam pulled out his phone and dialed a very familiar number.

"Hey Sam. Having some trouble?" Bobby answered on the second ring.

"We can't figure out what's causing these guys to kill their wives."

"Tell me what you've got so far," (Y/N)'s voice said from the other end of the phone.

Sam put the phone on speaker so Dean could talk. "All we've got is four guys who murdered their wives for basically no reason. No possession, no shapeshifters, nada."

"All the husbands knew exactly what they were doing...and they all regret it," Sam added.

"Anything else?" Bobby asked.

"All of them met their 'perfect' woman not long before killing their wives," Dean answered.

"Define 'perfect'," (Y/N) said.

"They all said 'she was perfect in every way. Exactly what I wanted'," Sam responded.

The boys couldn't see the look Bobby and (Y/N) exchanged, but they did hear her soft chuckle. "And you boys couldn't think of anything that could fit that description?"

Dean gave Sam an 'I told you so' look. "I'm guessing you have something in mind?" he said aloud.

"I do indeed," she answered. "Ever hear of a Siren?"

"A Siren?" Dean asked. "Like Greek Mythology?"

Sam gave Dean a surprised look.

"I can read, you know," Dean mumbled.

"Yes, like Greek Mythology," (Y/N) said with a small smile. "What do you remember from the stories?"

"Uhh...they're super hot women who lured sailors to their deaths?" Dean said.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and Bobby chuckled. "Sort of," Bobby replied. "They're actually quite hideous, but they can read minds. They appear to the guy as their ideal perfect woman, put some mojo on them, and make them kill."

"What kind of mojo?" Dean asked.

"Don't really know," Bobby answered. "Siren songs aren't really songs...more like a spell that falls on the person."

"Okay, so how do we find her?" Sam asked.

"Honestly, boys, my money is on her finding you," (Y/N) said.

"Great," Dean mumbled. "So...how do we kill a Siren?"

"We're...uh--gonna have to get back to you on that one," Bobby said.

"Just keep your eyes peeled and don't do anything stupid," (Y/N) said. "We'll get back to you as soon as we find something."

"Thanks guys," Sam said before hanging up.

"Sooo a Siren, huh?"

"Looks like it."

"Who do you think she's gonna look like?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Probably one of those chicks from 'Busty Asian Beauties' you're obsessed with."

Dean's eyes lit up. "Hell yes. Let's go find us a Siren."

**********

(Y/N) and Bobby had been digging through lore books for hours before they managed to find something potentially useful.

"I love a good 3,000 year old text," (Y/N) mumbled in annoyance.

"I'm not even sure what it means," Bobby responded.

"You're supposed to be the expert, Singer," she teased.

He chuckled. "Let me see it again."

He took the book from her and read the passage again...and again...and one more time for effect. "I think I've got it."

Bobby explained his reasoning to her and she agreed. She placed a call to Sam, but he didn't answer. When she called Dean, he picked up almost immediately.

"You got something for me, sweetheart?"

An almost imperceptible shudder ran through her body at the pet name. She was used to him calling her that and other similar names, but it never ceased to have an effect on her. She knew he called all the girls 'sweetheart', so she knew it didn't mean anything...not that she wanted it to...right?

"Bobby and I think we figured out how to kill her."

"Lay it on me."

She cleared her throat. "Uh, you'll need a stake, dipped in the blood of someone actively under her spell...then just stab her."

"Okay, sounds easy enough. We'll just get some blood from one of the poor saps sitting in a jail cell."

"Not quite, Dean," Bobby cut in. "The guy has to be actively under her spell...none of those guys are anymore."

"Damn. Okay, so how do we get it?"

"I have a terrible plan, but it should work," (Y/N) said.

"I'm always down for a terrible plan," Dean responded.

"Find the Siren, one of you gets dosed, the other uses his blood to gank her."

"You want us to get dosed?" Dean asked in surprise.

"Obviously not, but it's a surefire way to get the job done. As long as only one of you gets dosed."

"What happens if we both get it?"

"You'll probably try to kill each other," Bobby answered.

"Great. That's just great," Dean grumbled.

"If you've got a better plan, go for it," (Y/N) said with a shrug.

"We'll make it work. I'll call you when we're finished." Dean hung up without another word.

(Y/N) and Bobby exchanged another glance.

"Carvistly is what, three hours from here?" she asked.

Bobby nodded. "We should probably head that way."

"Agreed."

**********

"Any luck tracking down the Siren?" Dean asked when Sam walked into the motel room.

"Nope. Any word from Bobby or (Y/N)?"

"Got a way to kill her and a...rather terrible plan."

Dean explained (Y/N)'s plan, as well as how to kill the Siren.

"You're right, that's a terrible plan," Sam said when Dean finished.

"Yeah, but it's all we've got."

"Fine...but how do we find her? I mean, I've talked to all the vics and they all described a different chick. We have no idea what she's gonna look like."

"That's true. Guess we'll just have to hang out at the bar and hope she comes to us."

"We're lucky there's only one bar in town," Sam commented.

"Dude, for real."

The two hunters made their way to the bar and got themselves a high top table towards the back of the room, giving them a good vantage point of the rest of the bar.

"Do we even know how she's picking her targets?" Dean asked.

"Well, all of the guys have been married so far, but I'm sure she'll go for just about any guy desperate enough," Sam answered with a pointed look.

"What's the look for? You saying I'm desperate?"

Sam shrugged.

"I'm not desperate."

"Right...when was the last time you got laid?"

Dean scoffed. "All the time, man."

Sam raised his eyebrows and Dean groaned.

"Okay, fine, so it's been a while. That doesn't make me desperate."

"Whatever you say, Dean."

Dean grumbled as he took a swig of his beer. He was not desperate. Absolutely not. Dean Winchester was never desperate. Maybe he just hadn't been horny lately...a man doesn't need to get laid every day. It had absolutely nothing to do with a certain hunter he couldn't get off his mind. Definitely not.

Sam was scanning the bar, looking for anyone who seemed out of place...but no one was catching his eye. He felt a little bad for teasing his brother, but he just wanted Dean to admit the truth.

"I'm gonna hit the head," Dean mumbled.

He watched Dean walk to the bathroom, several pairs of eyes on him the entire time. Most were women, but none of them stood out as concerning. Just the typical hot bimbos Dean always seemed to take home.

Sam's mind began to wander a bit while he waited for his brother to return. He had a lot on his mind and working this job was, unfortunately, not his priority.

Dean made his way back from the bathroom, jarring Sam out of his trance. "I'm gonna get another beer. Want anything?"

"No thanks, I'm good," Sam replied.

Dean walked off towards the bar and Sam's eyes followed him out of habit. Dean was halfway to the bar when a woman approached him. Sam's jaw nearly hit the floor when he saw her. Had Dean not told him (Y/N) had called from Bobby's two hours ago, he would have been certain she was here in the bar.

He watched the woman walk up to Dean and touch his arm, and he was out of his seat and heading their direction in an instant.

"Hey there, handsome," a woman said from beside him, her hand touching his arm.

When Dean turned to face her, shock lit up his handsome face. He knew it wasn't her, but the resemblance was so uncanny, he almost believed it for a moment.

Realizing the woman before him was the Siren, he quickly regained his cool. "Well hello to you too," he said with a smirk.

"How 'bout you buy me a drink?" she said lightly.

Her voice is wrong, he thought to himself. "I'd love to," he said aloud.

He followed her towards the bar, turning to see Sammy following close behind. The expression on Sam's face told him that his little brother knew what was happening.

Dean held back a little, allowing Sam to catch up to him.

"Dude, she--" Sam began.

Dean glared at him. “Not of word of this to (Y/N), Sammy. Not a word.”

Feeling a little more comfortable knowing his backup was there, Dean continued to follow the Siren. When they reached the bar, he ordered a beer and she ordered some fruity cocktail.

"So what's your name, beautiful?" Dean asked.

"Kimberly."

"Hi, Kimberly. I'm Dean." I guess she doesn't know everything...

"It's nice to meet you, Dean."

The bartender handed them their drinks and Dean followed her to a solitary booth in the far corner of the bar. Dean noticed Sam taking a seat not too far away.

The Siren leaned in close and began chatting with Dean, laying on the flirtation very thick. Despite the fact she was literally wearing the face of the one woman Dean really loved, he found it very hard to reciprocate.

Thankfully, the Siren didn't seem to notice. In all honesty, Dean's bad flirting was better than most of the population's good flirting.

A half hour and another round of drinks later, Dean found himself mere inches from the Siren. Her scent was intoxicating, and he wondered for a moment if that was the 'mojo'...except he didn't feel any different. He knew it had to be something else.

"Your lips look so soft," the Siren muttered as she reached up a hand to touch them.

"They are," Dean murmured as he leaned in closer. "Wanna find out?"

She smiled and for a moment--just a moment--Dean forgot that it wasn't her. His eyes fluttered closed and he pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. He was instantly intoxicated by her...he wanted her so badly he could hardly breathe.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small voice screamed at him, reminding him she was a Siren, but the feeling of desire--of mindless devotion--quickly overcame the voice.

After what felt like an eternity, she broke the kiss. Dean was breathless, but he knew he would have happily suffocated to death kissing her.

"Why don't you take me back to your place?" she asked, voice suddenly sultrier than he remembered it being before.

He wanted nothing more than to take her to his bed, so he agreed without hesitation. Dean took her by the hand and guided her outside, helping her into the Impala, and taking off without a second thought.

Sam came running out of the bar, just in time to see Dean speeding away with the Siren in his passenger seat. "Shit..."

When Dean arrived back at the motel, he escorted "Kimberly" into his room. "Sorry for the mess," he said quickly as he knocked a few books off his bed.

"Don't worry," she said as she came up to him and ran her hands up his chest. "I don't mind a little mess."

Dean looked down at her and let out a soft groan. "God, you are so beautiful," he whispered.

She smiled knowingly. She had been more than a little surprised when she read his mind at the bar...it was rare to meet a man who's ideal girl wasn't a tall, thin, bombshell, especially a man who looked like him. But she knew what he wanted and she was more than happy to give it to him...until she got what she wanted.

Dean kissed her passionately and pulled her down onto the bed with him. He began to slowly peel off her clothes and she tugged at his shirt. He broke the kiss just long enough to pull his shirt off over his head.

Suddenly, someone knocked on their door.

Dean groaned. "Ignore it."

She was happy to do so and continued to kiss him.

"Dean!" Sam yelled from the other side of the door.

Dean pulled away for a moment. "Kinda busy here Sammy," he called.

"Open the damn door, Dean! She's not who you think!"

"Don't listen to him," the Siren said. "He wants me all to himself."

Dean's eyes darkened. "But you're mine."

"That's right, sweetie. All yours," she purred. "And I can be yours forever if you just get rid of him."

"Get rid of him?"

"You have to kill him, Dean, or he'll take me away from you."

"That's never gonna happen, baby." Dean stood up and crossed the room.

The moment he opened the door, Sam punched him in the face, sending him spiraling back into the room. The Siren watched with a smile as the two men fought each other.

"Dean, you gotta snap out of it!" Sam yelled.

"You can't have her. I won't let you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Kimberly's mine, Sammy," Dean insisted as he swung at his brother.

Sam ducked out of the way and slipped behind him. Dean swung his foot around and managed to knock Sam to the floor.

The Siren stood off to the side, egging Dean on. "Kill him for me, Dean. We can be together if you just kill him."

Dean was on top of Sam, punching him repeatedly. Sam reached into his jacket and managed to grab ahold of the stake. He jabbed Dean in the arm and kneed him in the groin with a mumbled apology.

Dean groaned loudly and Sam pushed him off and onto the floor. When he stood up, the Siren noticed the stake in his hand, but it was too late. Sam was blocking her exit. She turned to run towards the window, but Sam was faster. He stabbed the stake into her back and she fell to the ground with a scream and a thud.

Sam turned back to his brother, who was now kneeling on the floor. "You okay, Dean?"

Dean looked up at him with a glare. "Did you really have to go for the goods, man?"

Sam chuckled lightly. "Sorry about that, but you were being a dick."

"I was hopped up on Siren juice, dude!"

"Well lookie here, guess they don't need our help after all," Bobby said from the open doorway.

(Y/N) came up beside him with a smirk. "Nice work you two. We thought you might need some backup, but looks like we were wrong."

"We can help with the body dump at least," Bobby said.

Bobby and (Y/N) stepped into the room and Dean yelled "no!" in an oddly high pitched voice. (Y/N) did her best not to look in Dean's direction, despite his outburst...his shirtless form made her stomach do somersaults.

"Jesus, Sam, how hard did you hit him?" Bobby asked.

Dean scrambled to get to his feet, but he wasn't fast enough to stop (Y/N) from seeing the Siren. Sam had reached for her, but he saw the look on her face and knew it was too late.

"I don't think that's his problem..." (Y/N) said softly, pointing to the body of the Siren.

Bobby came up beside her and cursed under his breath. He and Sam made eye contact and slowly started to back out of the room.

"Does anyone want to tell me why the Siren looks like my twin?" (Y/N) asked, stopping everyone in their tracks. She turned to fix all three men with a hard stare.

"We're just gonna...umm--go, uh anywhere else," Bobby said. He grabbed Sam's arm and dragged him from the room, closing the door behind them.

(Y/N) fixed her intense gaze on Dean. "Well?"

"I--um, well--you see, I...um." He couldn't quite meet her eyes.

(Y/N)'s expression softened. She could see his discomfort matched her own. "Sit," she said gently, gesturing to the bed nearest the door. "And maybe put on a shirt."

Dean sat down, tugging his shirt back over his head. She sat across from him, finally able to look at him without feeling incredibly awkward.

"It just sorta...happened," Dean mumbled.

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah--you musta been on my mind when she read it, ya know? So she made herself look like you." He didn't want to tell her the truth...all this time he'd spent pretending he didn't feel this way was going to be thrown out the window in an instant.

"That's not how it works, Dean," she said softly. "Sirens can see your innermost desire...the woman of your dreams."

Dean let out a little groan and bit his lip. He exhaled heavily and finally lifted his head to meet her eyes. "Guess there's no point in lying then."

She shook her head. "Not really."

Dean's heart was hammering in his chest. It was so loud that he was surprised (Y/N) couldn't hear it. She looked beautiful, sitting there with a confused and concerned expression on her face. For the first time in the years he'd known her, he was struggling to push his feelings back down. Now that the box had been opened, he couldn't put them back.

"She didn't get your voice right," he said softly.

"What?"

"Your voice...it wasn't right. It was missing the softness...the--" he struggled to find the right word, "--the melody."

"You think my voice is melodious?" she asked in surprise.

"I think it's the most beautiful sound in the world."

She laughed, thinking he had to be joking. When his expression didn't change, her laughter came to an abrupt stop. "Oh, you're serious..."

"I changed my mind. Your voice is the second most beautiful sound in the world."

She swallowed thickly. "What's the first?"

Dean smirked as he crossed the short space between them and sat on the bed directly beside her. "Your laugh," he whispered.

Her breath caught in her chest as she looked at him. His expression was something she'd never seen on his face before, but it sure looked a hell of a lot like lust.

"Dean..."

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm clumsily telling you how I feel about you," he answered honestly.

"That you like my laugh and my voice?"

He sighed. "I like them because they're yours."

She wanted to believe it, but she couldn't wrap her brain around the idea that Dean Winchester liked her. It wasn't even remotely possible, so he clearly had to still be under the Siren's spell. There had to be some alternate explanation for why the Siren took on her appearance.

"I guess the Siren's mojo really screwed with your head."

Dean shook his head. "It didn't mess with my head, (Y/N/N). It just made me face something I've felt for a long time."

Her breathing sped up as she stared into his eyes. "And what is it you feel?"

"Affection," he answered. "Adoration...devotion, desire, longing." He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, fingertips lingering on her cheek. "Love," he finished softly.

She inhaled sharply, disbelief evident on her face. "You love me?"

"With everything I have."

"Why?"

Surprise lit up his face and he dropped his hand. "Why? What do you mean, why?"

"I mean, why would you love me of all people?"

"I don't really know how to answer that...I just--I just do."

She shook her head and stood up. She began to pace and the words tumbled from her mouth before she could think about what she was saying. "There is absolutely no way that you, Dean Winchester, love me. I mean, look at you! You're literally perfection in human form. Every woman on planet earth with a set of working eyeballs wants you. You could have your pick of any fish in the sea! I've seen the women you go home with, Dean, and they sure as hell don't look like me. I'm not what any man would use to define the 'ideal woman'...I'm short, I'm certainly not thin--I've got hips and thighs and a big ass, not to mention large boobs and a soft stomach. There is nothing special about me. Someone like you isn't meant to be with someone like me."

Dean stood up and grabbed her, pulling her to a stop directly in front of him. "Are you done now?"

She was slightly breathless as she nodded.

"Okay, good. Now listen--I'm not perfect. Not even close. I'm aware that I'm attractive, but inside? Shit, (Y/N), I'm damaged goods. Beyond damaged. Why do you think I only bring home chicks that look like that? Baby, they're easy to entice home and there's zero strings attached. I've kept my feelings buried for so long, it just became easier to pretend they didn't exist. It kept you safe...I didn't want to expose you to the darkness that lives inside me. You deserve so much better than me, (Y/N)."

She stood there in stunned silence--unable to grasp a single word to say.

"And another thing--you're my ideal woman. I don't give a damn what society's beauty standards are. For the record, I love your thick thighs and that gorgeous ass of yours. I love your boobs, and your hips, and your stomach--baby, I love all of you. You're perfect. So don't you dare tell me you're not meant to be with someone like me...because in reality, I'm the one who doesn't deserve you."

"Dean," she whispered.

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he tried to stamp out the terror that she was about to rip his heart out. He opened his eyes again and saw the whirlwind of emotions in her eyes. "Yes?" he asked tentatively.

"Please kiss me," she murmured.

He didn't need to be told twice. His lips crashed against hers in a searing kiss. He moaned softly, licking against her lips, silently begging to be let in.

She parted her lips, allowing his tongue entry. She sighed as he tightened his grip on her, pulling her flush against his chest.

Dean deepened the kiss, large hands roaming her soft body until they landed on her round ass. He gave it a light squeeze and she responded with a little moan.

Dean broke the kiss to begin trailing down her jaw to her neck. His lips felt like heaven against her skin and she clung to him, head tossed back in pleasure.

He nipped at her pulse point and she moaned softly, eliciting a growl from deep in his chest. He pulled away from her, slightly breathless, and leaned his forehead against hers. "I take it back," he whispered.

"What?"

"I've got a new favorite sound."

She cocked her head to the side in confusion.

He grinned devilishly. "Those pretty little moans you make? Those are my new favorite."

Her eyes widened slightly, but a small smile played at her lips. "I bet if you try hard enough, you can hear a few more."

He chuckled. "Oh, baby, you ain't seen nothing yet."

"Uhhh guys?" Sam suddenly said from the doorway.

They both turned their heads to face him, embarrassment reddening her cheeks.

"Little busy here, Sammy," Dean grumbled.

"I can see that, but umm...dead monster body," he said as he pointed at the Siren's body.

"Gross," Dean mumbled. "I forgot about that."

(Y/N) chuckled lightly. "We should probably take care of that."

He nodded. "We'll pick up where we left off later." He shot her a wink and gave her another kiss before peeling himself off of her.

**********

An hour later, the body had been properly disposed of and everyone was ready to head home.

"You boys wanna come back to my place and rest for a few days?" Bobby asked.

Dean looked over at (Y/N) before turning his attention back to the older man. "Yeah, Bobby, I think we could use the rest." He glanced back over at (Y/N) just in time to see the soft smile on her lips.

Bobby nodded. "Sam, why don't you ride with me?"

Sam looked confused for a moment, but realization quickly lit up his face. "Oh, yeah--right. Sure. I'll uh, see you guys later, then."

"Mhm," Dean hummed, clearly not really listening anymore.

Bobby and Sam got into Bobby's car and drove off, leaving Dean and (Y/N) alone.

"So, uh...whatcha say we stop at the nearest motel on the way?" Dean asked with a sheepish grin.

She smiled. "I think I could be persuaded."

He grinned fully, reaching out to grab ahold of her and pull her into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he leaned down to kiss her.

Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to take her right then and there, but he wanted better for her. Her kiss lit a fire inside of him that burned more brightly than he had ever felt before. He wanted her with a kind of desperation he had never known was possible.

"Why don't we skip the motel," she whispered against his lips.

"Huh?"

She glanced at the Impala. "The backseat is pretty spacious."

He chuckled. "It's plenty big enough, but I don't want our first time together to be in the back of a car. I wanna make love to you properly--on a bed."

She smiled, practically melting against him. "Then you better drive fast, because I don't know how long I can wait."

His eyes widened. "Yes ma'am."

She laughed lightly as he opened up the car door for her and she slid into the passenger seat. Dean ran to the other side of the car and jammed the key into the ignition. The car roared to life and he sped off toward the highway.

**********

"Oh thank God," Dean mumbled about 20 minutes into the drive. "There's a motel 10 miles up."

(Y/N) laughed warmly. "Step on it, handsome."

He grinned and laid his foot down a little harder on the accelerator. Less than 5 minutes later, Dean was pulling into the motel parking lot.

"I'll go get us a room. Should be quick," he said as he hopped out of the car.

A few minutes later, Dean returned with a room key in hand. He opened the car door and held out his hand for her to take.

"Come on, gorgeous. We've got important things to do," he said with a smile.

"Lead the way."

Dean had to consciously force himself to walk at a reasonable pace to the room. (Y/N)'s legs were a lot shorter than his and if he'd walked as fast as he wanted to, he would've been dragging her along.

As soon as they were in the room, Dean shut and locked the door.

(Y/N) glanced around. "Looks clean enou--"

Dean silenced the rest of her sentence with a well-timed heated kiss. He'd whipped her around and pressed her up against the door, hands gripping her hips as he kissed her passionately.

She gripped the edges of his shirt and tugged upwards, silently asking him to remove it. He pulled back, yanking the shirt off his head, before attaching his lips back to hers.

He slid his hands under her shirt and her body tensed up on instinct. She'd always hated people touching her stomach, but she did her best to push away her discomfort.

Despite her best efforts, Dean could feel her unease. "Baby, look at me," he whispered.

Her eyes met his and she visibly relaxed.

"I've got you, okay? I love you, I love your body, and I wanna touch and see every inch of it...but if you're not ready, I can wait."

Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of his sweet words. Normally, she would have taken him up on his offer, but not now. She wanted this...wanted him...and that meant giving in completely.

She pushed him back ever so slightly, giving her enough space to unbutton her shirt and slip it off. It fell to the ground, leaving her upper half in just a bra.

She was self-conscious for no more than a moment. Dean's hungry eyes traced their way down her torso and back up, desire evident in his gaze.

He pressed his body up against hers again, a soft moan escaping his lips. "So fucking perfect," he whispered.

He slid his hands up her back and deftly unhooked her bra. She let him pull it off and toss it somewhere behind him. He groaned as he palmed each of her breasts in his large hands. He began to kneed them gently, pinching her nipples as she gasped.

Suddenly, his hands left her breasts and traveled to her thighs. "Jump," he whispered.

"Excuse me?"

He gripped her thighs tightly. "Jump, baby. I've got you."

She looked at him like he was crazy, but she trusted him completely. She jumped up and Dean caught her with ease, tugging her legs around his waist. She locked her heels behind him and he pressed her back against the door.

Her breasts were now at the perfect height for his mouth to feast on...and feast on them he did. He sucked and nipped, his light stubble scratching against her skin deliciously.

His arms wrapped around her back and he lifted his head to look at her. "Keep those legs tight, okay?"

As soon as she nodded, he pulled away from the door and carried her to the bed. He laid her down gently, but instead of crawling on top of her, he stood at the end of the bed.

She sat up slightly. "Dean?"

He licked his lips and looked back up at her face. "Hmm?"

She crooked her finger, gesturing him to come to her.

Instead of climbing onto the bed, he leaned down and placed a kiss to her belly, just above her pants. "These should go," he murmured.

He made quick work of removing her jeans, his calloused hands gliding back up her legs to the hem of her underwear.

"I don't think you need these either." He tugged them off and threw them onto the ground.

She laid before him, completely bare, and she didn't feel self-conscious at all. She couldn't--not with the way he was looking at her.

His breathing was slightly labored as he stared at her. He palmed his painfully hard cock through his jeans, a strangled moan escaping his lips.

She sat up and licked her lips. "I can help you with that."

His eyes widened, pupils dilated to the point of obscuring his green irises. "Oh yeah?"

She nodded and slid off the end of the bed, dropping to her knees before him. She looked up at him and slowly began to undo his belt.

"Holy fuck..." he murmured. He couldn't take his eyes off of her as she undid the button on his jeans and slowly began to pull them down.

He helped her take them off completely before she hooked her fingers in the waistband of his boxer briefs. "These are in my way," she said huskily.

He yanked his underwear off with such speed, if she'd blinked she would have missed it. What she couldn't miss, however, was his surprisingly large member mere inches from her face.

Dean noticed her wide eyes and he grinned. "Like what you see, baby?"

Her lust-filled eyes flicked up to his. "I like every inch of you."

He wasn't sure if she was talking about his body or his cock, but he didn't have time to think about it. She gripped him tightly and slid her mouth onto his cock, eliciting a loud moan from him.

She kept her eyes fixed on his face as she began to move her head and her hands in an expert rhythm. He could barely breathe as he stared down at her...pretty mouth stuffed full of his cock and her big (y/e/c) eyes looking up at him.

He slid his fingers into her hair, pulling it back from her face so he could see it better. The blunt tips of his nails raked against her scalp as he tightened his grip, a moan of ecstasy escaping his lips.

"Fuck, baby...feels so good."

She moaned around his cock, the vibration sending a shock of pleasure through him. His hips jilted forward slightly, causing her to gag a little. He instantly pulled back, not wanting to hurt her.

In response, she grabbed onto his upper thighs with both hands and tugged his hips forward, relaxing her throat as she did to take him even farther into her.

Her watery eyes met his in a silent plea. Dean was pretty sure he knew what she wanted, so he tentatively pulled back and thrust his hips forward gently.

Her eyes seemed to light up and she moaned loudly, giving him the confirmation he needed. He gripped her head with both of his hands and he began to fuck her pretty face.

(Y/N) tightened her grip on his thighs and desperately tried to keep her eyes open and on his face. She wanted to see him come undone more than anything. At this moment, she was just along for the ride.

Dean's grip on her hair tightened to an almost painful level, but she didn't complain. The moans and whispered pleas coming from his mouth were reward enough.

"Baby, I'm so close..." he groaned.

She released a deep moan and his eyes flicked down to meet hers. The moment his gaze found hers, he came with a moan of her name. (Y/N) didn't let go of his cock until she'd swallowed every last drop of his spend before finally releasing him.

He nearly collapsed on the bed, but through the fog in his brain, he remembered (Y/N) would have needs of her own.

"Come here, baby," he said softly as he reached for her. "Lie on the bed."

She stood up with his help and laid down on the bed, feet hanging over the edge. When Dean didn't move to join her, she began to shift uncomfortably.

"You're too far away," he insisted.

She immediately started to move closer to him, but he shook his head, grabbed her hips, and tugged her to the edge of the bed where he wanted her.

She gasped in surprise. "Dean!"

He grinned as he dropped to his knees. "What? I wanna taste you."

She looked a little shy. "You don't have to."

He looked at her in confusion. "I know I don't have to...I want to."

"Oh..."

"Baby, if you taste half as delicious as you look, then I'm going to be the happiest man in the world."

"Oh," she whispered in a slightly more surprised tone.

Dean grabbed her legs and threw one over each shoulder before diving into her pussy like a starving man at a feast.

"Oh!" What started out as a pleasantly surprised sound quickly turned to moans of enjoyment.

She'd known he would be good...after all, he had a lot of practice, but she hadn't expected to feel like this. Dean's mouth had been on her pussy for less than 30 seconds and she was already a gasping mess.

Her hand fisted his hair, tugging on it slightly, legs desperately searching for something to hold onto.

Dean was an incredibly fast learner. He paid attention to what made her moan, what made her grip his hair harder, what made her squirm...he was determined to be the absolute best she'd ever had.

"Dean," she gasped. "You--it--shit...feels so good."

He grinned against her pussy before wrapping his lips around her clit and sucking intently. His tongue began to swirl around her clit, spelling out her name in fast-moving cursive.

"Oh god!"

Her legs began to tighten around his head and he had a vague thought about wanting to be smothered by her thighs...but the thought was pushed aside when she cried out, cumming all over his mouth and chin.

He hungrily lapped up as much as he could before she yanked on his hair and desperately tried to squirm away. "Sensitive, Dean!"

He finally allowed her to pull his head up and he stared at her pretty face as he licked his lips. "Infinitely better than I'd imagined," he murmured.

"Huh?" she asked, clearly still dazed from her orgasm.

He smiled as he crawled on top of her, placing a kiss to her lips. "You taste like heaven," he whispered.

She blushed, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her for another kiss.

He'd found himself growing hard again while he was eating her out, and as he deepened the kiss, his cock brushed against her pussy, eliciting a sharp gasp from her.

He smiled against her lips. "(Y/N)?"

"Hmm?"

"If I told you I wanted to do something really really badly, would you be willing to do it for me?"

She cocked her head to the side as she regarded him. "That would depend on what it is."

"Fair enough."

Suddenly, he flipped onto his back, taking her with him. She gasped as she found herself looking down at him from above. "You could have just asked," she said with a chuckle.

"Oh that?" He smirked darkly. "That's not what I want..."

Her breathing began to pick up pace again. "Then what do you want?"

He grinned wolfishly. "I wanna taste that sweet pussy again."

Her eyes widened. No one had ever eaten her out twice during sex. "But you just did..."

He nodded. His eyes softened as he looked at her, his fingers gently rubbing circles into her thighs. "Please baby? I would do anything."

She bit her lip. She couldn't deny, the idea of him wanting to eat her out again was an incredible turn-on...but she was still sensitive from a few minutes prior.

"Please," he begged again, green eyes widening.

She sighed, realizing there was no way she could say no to him when he was looking at her like that. "Alright."

He grinned. "That's my good girl. Now come up here."

Her pussy clenched around nothing at the praise, but then confusion settled on her face. "Come up...where?"

"Here," he said, patting his mouth. "I want you to sit on my face."

Her eyes widened in shock. "What? No! Absolutely not. No way." She tried to scramble off of him, but his strong arms held her in place.

"Why not?" he pouted.

"Umm because I could seriously hurt you! Or I don't know, smother you to death!"

He laughed lightly. "I would die a very happy man."

"I'm serious, Dean! I'm not light!"

The smile disappeared from his face as he took in the shock and disbelief on hers. He sat up and ran his hand along her cheek. "Hey, baby, look at me."

Her eyes slowly shifted to meet his.

"(Y/N), I want this. Badly. Now, I would never force you to do something you didn't want to do, but I don't want you to say no out of some misguided desire to protect me. I'm more than capable of picking you up and tossing you around, so I promise you're not going to smother me or hurt me. I wanna feel those sexy thighs of yours wrapped around my head as I devour that sweet pussy."

His eyes darkened as he spoke and it lit something inside of her. She was scared of hurting him, but she could see how much he wanted this. "I'll--I'll try," she whispered.

He smiled. "That's my girl." He laid back down on the bed. "Now come here and have a seat, gorgeous."

She blushed, but did as he told her--mostly.

"Babe, I said sit."

"I am sitting," she protested.

"No, you're not." He grabbed her hips and tugged her down so she was directly against his lips. "Fuck yes," he mumbled into her before getting to work.

(Y/N) gasped loudly. This new position changed the angle of his tongue inside of her and his nose bumped against her clit every time he moved.

Within seconds, she was a moaning mess above him, hands grasping onto the headboard for stability. Her hips started to move of their own volition and Dean gripped her hips to help facilitate the movement.

She didn't know she could feel this incredible...her body was shaking with a pleasure she'd never felt before--every nerve ending alive with need.

"Dean, I can't--I need--please."

He tightened his hold on her hips and focused his tongue on her clit as she rode his face. Seconds later, she yelled his name as she orgasmed, drenching his face in her slick.

God help him, but he didn't want to stop. He'd never been happier. The sounds she made, her taste, the need to pleasure her...all of it made him want to never stop.

Unfortunately for him, (Y/N) managed to scramble away with cries of sensitivity. She collapsed on the bed beside him, trying to catch her breath. Her legs shook with the aftershocks of her orgasm as she came down from her high.

Dean wiped his mouth and turned to look at her, a wide grin gracing his handsome face. "Thoughts?"

"You can...do that...again...anytime you want," she said between breaths.

He chuckled. "Oh, baby, don't tempt me." He rolled on top of her and gave her a soft kiss to her lips. He slowly kissed along her jaw and down to her neck, sucking on her pulse point.

She had no idea how he knew that would drive her crazy, but she was glad he did. Despite her exhaustion, she wanted him...wanted to feel him so badly she could hardly breathe. "Dean..." she whispered.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"I want you."

He raised his eyebrows. "Where?"

She fidgeted a little before murmuring, "Inside me."

He pressed his index finger against her lips. "Here?"

She shook her head.

"Then where, baby?"

She took his hand and guided it between her legs, placing it against her dripping pussy. "Here."

His eyes seem to sparkle as he looked down at her. He wanted to hear her demand what she wanted, but this was close enough for now.

"Anything for you, baby."

He sat up and gripped his cock, giving it a few strokes before lining himself up with her core. His eyes flicked up to hers and he asked softly, "You ready?"

She nodded.

"Words, baby."

"I'm ready, Dean, please."

He pushed into her slowly, eliciting a sharp moan from her lips. The stretch was deliciously painful, but she was desperate for him to keep going. She whined softly when he stopped to let her adjust, so he continued to push until he was fully seated inside of her.

He dropped his head down to her forehead, breathing heavily. He'd never been gripped this tightly in his life and it felt amazing.

(Y/N) had similar thoughts. He fit her perfectly...a feeling she'd never before experienced. Like the last two pieces of a puzzle locking into place.

Dean shifted his hips, starting a slow pace to keep from hurting her. Much to his surprise, she couldn't care less about the pain, she wanted more.

"Dean, faster," she whimpered.

He couldn't tell her no even if he'd wanted to, and he certainly didn't want to. He began to thrust into her with more force and speed, earning moans of pleasure from her lips.

"You feel so good, baby. Never felt this good before," he whispered softly.

The room filled with the sounds of their shared moans, the salacious slapping of skin, and the whispered words meant only for each other.

Dean was about as far from a virgin as a person could be, and (Y/N) wasn't new to this either, but he had never ever had a sexual experience even remotely close to what he was feeling with her.

Most of his experience came from one-night-stands, which meant there hadn't been feelings of any kind involved, but with (Y/N)? He could hardly breathe, it felt so right. Three words crept into his mind, but he pushed them away quickly. He didn't want to ruin this.

He focused back on the beautiful woman beneath him and his heart nearly exploded at the sight. He'd never seen anything so incredible, so beautiful, so perfect. He was dying to watch her come apart for him--he just knew it would be a sight to behold.

"Do you think you can give me another one, baby?"

Her eyes widened. "I don't know, Dean...I've never cum more than once before and I've already done it twice."

He smiled. He liked knowing he'd done something no one else ever had. "Come on, pretty girl. I know you can do it for me," he murmured.

Before she could say another word, he shifted her hips to give him better access. The new angle left her speechless as his cock slammed into that delicious soft spot deep inside of her--a spot she hadn't been certain existed until this moment.

She dug her nails into his back, clinging to him for dear life. It felt so good she could hardly think. Her brain was filled with nothing but the pleasure she was feeling.

Dean knew she was getting close and he was desperately holding back his own impending orgasm. He would be damned if he came before her. "I need you to cum for me baby. Can you do that?"

She nodded and held onto him even tighter.

Dean's motions never slowed, his aim never faltered. He was determined to push her over the edge. He wanted it more than anything.

Her legs began to shake and strangled cries left her throat as she neared orgasm. With one final thrust, (Y/N) shattered--a broken scream of his name leaving her lips.

Dean continued to thrust, chasing his own high as he helped her ride out hers. "Where do you want it?" he whispered.

In her haze, it took her a moment to figure out what he was asking her. "Inside of me," she begged. "Wanna feel you fill me up."

"Fuck," he groaned as he moved impossibly faster. Moments later, he came harder than he could ever remember, emptying inside of her for what felt like an eternity.

Eventually, his hips slowed to a stop and he nearly collapsed on top of her, completely spent and out of breath.

After a few moments, Dean pulled out and rolled over to collapse beside her on the bed. "That was...fucking amazing."

She laughed lightly. "I would have to agree."

He turned to look at her. "Best sex of my life."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, riiiiight..." She chalked up his statement to a post-nut haze.

"I'm serious, babe. There's something different about having sex with someone you love."

(Y/N)'s entire body froze, but her mind beginning to race. He'd said earlier that he'd loved her, but she honestly hadn't believed it. Hearing him say it now reminded her that she hadn't responded to him the first time.

Dean noticed the tension immediately and suddenly realized what he'd said. He started to panic...Shit, shit shit. "(Y/N/N), I--"

She waved him off. "Dean, you don't have to explain--" she started.

He pulled away from her so he could see her face better. "That wasn't some post-orgasm utterance. I meant it--I mean it."

She laid there, desperately trying to wrap her brain around what he was saying. "What?" she said again, softer this time.

He rolled onto his side so he could see her better. He reached out and gently caressed her face, eyes watching her reaction with trepidation. "I'm in love with you, (Y/N). I've known it for a while, but it didn't seem like something you would want to hear. I said it earlier in that motel room, but we didn't really have a chance to talk about it--and I don't want you to think for even one second that I didn't mean it. I love you with everything I have, baby. I would burn this whole world to the ground for you."

Hearing Dean Winchester say those words was enough to shock her into silence, but hearing them directed at her? It was a feeling she couldn't even begin to describe. "I don't know what to say," she whispered.

Pain flashed across his face, but he hid it before she could really notice. "You don't have to say anything."

"Of course I do," she insisted. "I never expected to hear you say anything like that to anyone, let alone me. I'm struggling to find the words to say...I guess I'm just unprepared. I never thought Dean Winchester would be the one making me speechless with his beautiful words, but here we are. All I can think to say is, I love you too."

A warm smile graced his features. "I couldn't have asked for a more perfect response." He leaned down and kissed her gently. "I love you," he said again.

She smiled back. "I love you too."

Dean pulled her against his chest and held on tightly. He didn't want to let her go for fear of losing her. He knew their lives were risky--he knew either one of them could die at any time--and he didn't want to waste a single moment. He'd already wasted so much time pretending not to love her. He would never make that mistake again.

Apparently (Y/N) was having similar thoughts because she whispered, "I never thought I'd be thankful for a Siren."

Dean chuckled lightly and kissed the top of her head. "Me neither, baby. Me neither."

[jennasslut33]

Keep quiet..

Warnings: 18+, Lorraine x Fem!reader, smut, mommy kink, praise, fingering, pussy slapping, car sex. MDNI!!!

It was a normal day as usual for you, Lorraine, Maxine, R.J, Wayne, Bobby-Lynne and Jackson.

You we're all finishing up one of the scenes from the movie that you've all been filming, for everyone it was pretty normal for them, but you. You seemed pretty uncomfortable with the whole situation, so did Lorraine.. When you were all filming, you and lorraine looked at each other, both of you looking pretty disgusted and uncomfortable, but you thanked the lord that it ended. You had one of the mics that Lorraine holds up, Lorraine had a mic as well, R.J has the camera and Bobby-Lynne as always is smoking a cigarette as well as Jackson. Maxine is walking with Wayne and you're all bored so, Maxine decides to break the awkward silence, "did you all wanna maybe.. go into town?" Wayne answers, "sure Maxine, does anyone else wan' come along?" he asks, looking around the group of people. "uhm.. i-i'll come..?" you say nervously, because of the awkward scene you just had to watch and shoot, you're just thanking the lord that it wasn't you who was riding Jackson's cock and that it was Bobby-Lynne, as always. "alright, what about you two?" Maxine asked Lorraine and R.J. You look back at them, however, you cant help but admire Lorraine, how her dark wavy hair goes in front of her shoulders, her deep, dark brown eyes, the freckles that run along her cheeks and nose, her perfectly sharp jawline, her perfectly plump maroon coloured lips, you cant help but imagine what it'd be like to kiss them. You have always despised R.J, and how he doesn't show Lorraine enough attention, love, affection, etc. You wish that you could give her all of the love, affection and attention she needs. Lorraine has always been a bit quiet, she looks so innocent. But you snap out of that thought when R.J speaks. "Yeah, we'll come." Lorraine speaks up right after him. "yeah, its pretty boring with nothin' to do on this farm anyway." You swear you can feel yourself getting weak at the knees at her sweet, southern accent, you go crazy for it every time she speaks, which is very rarely. "Y/N, you coming?" Bobby-Lynne asks. "o-oh.. uhm.. yeah.. yeah I'm coming." you say as you walk to the back of the van and get in it. Wayne and Maxine in the front seats, Wayne in the drivers seat, Maxine in the passenger seat. Bobby-Lynne and Jackson are right up against the Driver and Passenger seats, talking to Wayne and Maxine. Lorraine and R.J sitting next to each other on the left side of the van together. Then there's just.. you. you sit on the right side of the van in the back corner closest to the back doors of the van, giving R.J dirty looks as he's being oblivious to anything around him, since he's looking back at the footage from the dirty scene you all just had to film. You look over at Lorraine, you see how she looks a bit.. upset, bored and just looks a bit pissed at the same time. If it was because of R.J, you don't blame her. He never pays attention to her, he's always been so fixated on this dumb movie that both, you and Lorraine don't even want to be apart of. You then get the courage to speak up, your voice is a bit quiet, with your southern accent, you speak up to Lorraine "hey.. uhm.. L-Lorraine, i just wanted to ask, are you alright..?" She looks at her and her facial expression changes completely, she smiles softly at you, she sits up and looks you right in the eyes. "Yeah, I'm alright, why do you ask?" ugh.. that face.. the smile.. the eyes.. the voice.. It drives you absolutely insane every time you hear it. You feel butterflies in your stomach when she smiles at you, her deep, dark brown eyes looking into yours. and you finally speak up after snapping yourself back to reality. "oh i was uh.. just.. just wonderin' you.. uhm.. you didn't seem alright, that's all." you say in a quiet tone. She speaks again as she smiles at her sweetly, "oh, no, I'm alright Y/N, thats just my face i guess." she chuckles and R.J of course has to ruin the mood. "Lorraine, can you shut up for two seconds? god, im trying to focus and i cant with you yappin' in the back."

Lorraine looked at R.J. She looked down and said sheepishly “o-oh.. I’m.. im sorry, R.J—“ R.J put his hand in front of her face, cutting her off “I said shut your damn trap. God, you don’t know how or when to listen do you?”

You were seething quietly. You hated the way he spoke to her, your fists subconsciously clenching that your knuckles turned white. you were about to say something until Bobby-Lynne exclaimed “oh! There’s a bar up here, let’s go!” ugh, great. if they drank, you’d be the one to drive, it happened every time.

“do y’all wanna go have a drink?” Wayne asks, his eyes looking at everyone in the back of the van. “We’ve been filming all dang day. We deserve a drink or two, Wayne.” Bobby-Lynne says, sounding a bit irritated. “Alright, Bobby-Lynne, we’ll go.” Wayne said. “I’m up for a drink.” Maxine said, lifting her head from the magazine she was looking at. “Yeah, me too. All this work, I need a drink as well.” Jackson says, taking a drag of his joint.

R.J had agreed as well. You weren’t a big drinker, you’d only drink every now and then. But it was very rarely you drank. Bobby-Lynne and Maxine looked back at you and Lorraine. “Y’all gonna come have a drink?” Maxine asks, her eyes darting between you and Lorraine. “o-oh uhm.. n-no.. no thank you.. im alright..” you say shyly, and you fiddled with the ring you had on your index finger. “Alright, what about you? you comin’?” Bobby-Lynne asked Lorraine, who looked up from her hands and she cleared her throat.

“oh, uhm.. no, im alright. Are.. Y/N and I allowed to stay in the van while y’all are gone?” she asked, looking at Wayne. “uhh..” he looked at Maxine and then back at Lorraine through the review mirror. He sighs “yeah, fine. whatever, go through that sweet footage we’ve got while you’re both here.”

As much as Lorraine didn’t want to, she wouldn’t have much of a choice. She wasn’t gonna do it anyway. she just nodded in response, and you hung up blankets on the windows, because the sun was way too hot. There were only windows in the front of the van, and on the back doors of the van.

. . .

You finally stopped out the front of a bar, because the one that Bobby-Lynne pointed out was closed due to being short on staff. everyone got out, except for you and Lorraine. All windows were covered by the blankets you put up, you and Lorraine were sitting quietly in the back of the van, you were just laying down, Lorraine was just sitting there as she looked at her hands.

It was quiet for a bit. You were starting to get a bit hot, so you removed your jacket. You were wearing a low cut shirt with dark grey pants. The shirt had half of your tits spilling out of it. You felt like that if you had taken your jacket off with everyone else in the car, you’d be awkward. You laid back down across the van, your eyes closed that you didn’t even notice Lorraine staring at you, biting her bottom lip slightly.

“Nice shirt..” Lorraine said, her dark brown eyes not leaving you for a second. Your eyes opened and you looked at her “oh, thanks.” You said a bit shyly, a faint blush on your cheeks as you answered. She nodded, and as you were laying there, you felt a hand on your abdomen.. your eyes shot open and you looked at Lorraine.

“d-do you.. do you need anything..?” you asked, a bit flustered feeling her long, slender fingers slowly curling and uncurling on the skin of your abdomen as she looked at you. “hm.. no, just looking.” she said softly, her deep dark brown eyes looking your body up and down. “Just looking?? then why is your hand on my stomach?” you asked, looking a bit confused and flustered.

There was silence for a while, then you heard Lorraine breathe in, about to speak. “How good are you at staying quiet?” your eyes widen, what kind of question was that? and why did it ever even come to her mind? you spoke up quietly. “u-uhm.. i-im.. im not sure.. w-why do you ask..?” Lorraine smirked. she traveled her hand up your stomach, across your beasts and then cupped the side of your face in her hand. “You wanna test that out, sweetheart?” she said, almost purring. you sat up, but she pushed you back down and held your thighs.

“L-Lorrraine.. what’re you doing..?!” you exclaimed in a whisper. Lorraine pulled you closer to her by your thighs, prying them open. “What does it look like im doing? we’re gonna see how quiet you can be for me, baby.” She purred, her fingers trying to undo the button on your pants.

“I- I didn’t.. I didn’t think you were doing this kind of thing..” you say nervously, Lorraine’s hands now slowly pulling your pants down, and off of your body, leaving you in black lace panties and that white low cut shirt. You whined pathetically as you felt her fingers rubbing against your clothed clit, and she looked at you.

“Keep quiet for me, baby..”

she whispered. Moving her fingers faster against you. A soft gasp left your lips when you felt her push your panties to the side, her fingers teasing at your dripping pussy. “hm.. so wet for me, aren’t you?” She said, in almost a purr. She then settled between your thighs, her face so close to your aching cunt. Lorraine then tore your panties off of your body, and tossed them aside. She then held your thighs tight against her shoulders, and she buried her face between your thighs, her tongue lapping around your dripping hole as she sucked on your clit.

“L-Lorraine.. fuck.. mmh..” you moaned. Lorraine made you look at her while she ate you out. You couldn’t handle eye contact so, you looked away. She slapped your pussy, making you look at her again after you whined.

Lorraine the bought two fingers up to your entrance, teasing at it. The tips of her fingers circling around your sopping, aching cunt.

“P-Please..” you whine, looking at her as she smirked. “please what, honey? use your words.” she said teasingly, her fingers still continuing to tease at your aching hole. “please.. mommy.. fingers.. mmh..” you whine, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you breathe heavily.

“Good girl..” with that, Lorraine slammed two fingers into you, curling them as she hits that soft spongy spot inside of you, making you squeal and she went at a brutal pace, pumping her fingers in and out of your dripping cunt.

“don’t stop..” you moan, looking down at her as she sucked on your clit and kept her fingers pumping. You two were still in the back of the van, parked next to a street, in front of a bar, where the others were.

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” Lorraine asks, taking her mouth off of your clit for a moment. her fingers didn’t stop, you clenched around Lorraine’s fingers, so close to your orgasm as she kept going. “please.. fuck— mommy.. can I cum?? please.. please let me cum..” you begged, whimpering as you were on the brink of your orgasm.

“not until I say so. hold it, you can do it.” Lorraine says in almost a commanding tone, making you whine desperately. You were needy, extremely desperate for a release. “please.. p-please— mommy, I can’t..” you say through moans and whines.

Lorraine chuckled and took her mouth off of your clit again. “yes, you can. Hold it for mommy, understand?” “If you cum and I haven’t said you could, you won’t be able to cum at all.” she said her voice almost an order, like she was ordering you not to cum. All you could do was give a pathetic whimper. “answer me, do you understand?” “Say something, Y/N. Or I’ll leave you edged.” She hissed, trying to get you to answer her. All you could do was let out small words. “I— mmh.. ye-yes..” you said through heavy breaths and soft moans. “Good girl.” Lorraine said, latching her mouth back onto your clit, her hand travelling up under your shirt, her fingers teasing your nipples as she had her hand underneath your shirt and bra.

After a good 9 minutes, tears of overwhelming pleasure streamed down your face, your legs shaking, keeping yourself quiet because you didn’t want people walking past the van to know what was going on. Lorraine saw how you were shaking, nothing but a trembling mess under her touch.

“do you wanna cum, pretty?” Lorraine asked, almost as if she was being sarcastic about it. A moaned out sob left your lips as you spluttered out words “ye-yes.. please..” you beg, you’re so done, and you need that sweet feeling of relief leave you. “Cum for me, baby. Cum on my tongue.” She said as she withdrew her fingers from your pussy, making you whine, feeling empty. She then kept her mouth on you, licking and sucking at your throbbing clit, and aching hole.

Once she said you could cum, you didn’t hesitate. Your back arching off the van seats, your thighs squeezing Lorraine’s head to tight her ears started ringing, your hands gripping the bedsheets that were laid out across the van seats so tight that your knuckles turned white as you screamed with pure pleasure and relief. Lorraine cleaned up every drop of your sweet sweet nectar, licked you clean. She then licked her fingers and smirked at you.

“You did so good for me, baby. you were such a needy slut, weren’t you?” she said, her hand around your throat as you nodded “ye-yes.. mommy..” you said through pants as your eyes were hooded. “Good girl. You’re a slut, my slut. Do you understand me?” she said in a possessive tone. You nodded your head in response and she got you dressed just in time. The moment she pulled you onto her lap, her arms around your waist, your face buried into her neck, and your thighs bracketing hers. Everyone had come back to the van.

“What’s up with, Y/N?” Jackson asks as he jumps in the back of the van. “Nothin’ she’s just sleepin’” Lorraine says as if she didn’t just fuck you in the back of the van.

She then whispered in your ear.

“Just wait till later tonight..”

[megalony]

Get Her Out

This is an Evan x Reader x Eddie imagine, based on the last episode of season 6. This will have a follow up part, I hope you will all like it as I've had a few requests for a Buddie x reader fic and finally got inspired. Let me know what you think.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @gillybear17 @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: When a callout goes wrong and a bridge collapses, the whole team is in peril. Including (Y/n) and their unborn baby.

Enjoy.

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

"Oh, damn." Evan leaned his forehead against the window, feeling the cool glass blistering into his skin like it was melting through his head. He pressed the tip of his nose against the glass to try and get a better view of the scene building up in front of them.

A smile rose to his lips when he felt (Y/n)'s cheek on his arm and she leaned across him to try and get a look at the scene and see what they were going to walk into.

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and sighed when she saw the mess on the road ahead. An RV was turned on its side, blocking off most of the road ahead and at least three other cars had collided and were crashed or turned upside down.

(Y/n) moved her hand to Evan's thigh to steady herself when Bobby turned onto the hard shoulder and started bumping across the uneven ground and over the potholes. The hard shoulder was their best bet to get close to the scene.

When the truck pulled to a stop, (Y/n) tore off her headphones and followed Evan down out the truck with Eddie and then Chimney behind her. Hen was driving the ambulance which she managed to park just shy of the accident on the road rather than the hard shoulder.

Pursing her lips, (Y/n) placed a hand on her hip and tried not to let her shoulders sag as she followed the team over to the hard shoulder barrier. Great. Both Bobby and Evan climbed up and over the barrier with ease and Chimney swung his legs over and hopped across. There wasn't much chance of (Y/n) making a graceful swoop across it like she would of been able to a few months ago.

Not now she was twenty-nine weeks pregnant.

"Need a hand, mi amor?" Eddie slumped his helmet on his head and moved his other hand to (Y/n)'s back between her hips.

He kissed the side of her head, mindful that his helmet didn't bash into her temple before he sat on the barrier and held his hand out.

(Y/n) smiled and took his hand, moving to sit on the barrier while Eddie swung his legs over and hopped down. He moved so he was stood in front of her and held both her hands, taking her weight and helping her down. She squeezed his hands and pecked his cheek, letting him keep hold of her hand and guide her over to where Bobby was assessing the scene.

"Okay, Chim, Buck I want you to get in the back of that RV, there's a woman trapped in there. Hen, we'll get the driver out. Eddie, go check the other drivers, anyone that can walk and get out, direct them to the other medics."

Everyone nodded at their directions and looked around before their gazes set on (Y/n) who was waiting patiently.

She already knew what she was going to be told. She could see it in Bobby's eyes, ready to give her the order that she was sick of hearing by now. The order to hang back and wait around to be a spare pair of hands for any medical emergencies.

She would be able to tend to anyone who needed medical help who could get out of their vehicles unaided. (Y/n) couldn't assist on this one. She couldn't get in that RV and get the women out, she couldn't help the other drivers from their cars or kneel down and try to give first aid and medical help to anyone that was stuck.

It was lucky that she had even been allowed out of the station and on this call at all.

"(Y/n), wait by the ambulance, when we get everyone out, you can assist as a medic."

In other words, watch and wait.

She nodded and folded her arms over her chest, letting them rest on her bump and press her florescent jacket down into her stomach. Her jacket barely zipped up over her stomach anymore and (Y/n) had worn Evan's jacket a few times even though she wasn't meant to for 'protocol reasons'.

"See you soon, babe." Evan murmured against her temple and gave her a quick kiss before he jogged off after Chimney towards the side door of the RV. They couldn't get in through the back doors which were completely jammed, they would have to bypass the driver and climb through to the back to get their victim out.

(Y/n) grinned when Eddie kissed her temple and she watched him flurry off too.

Waiting was the hard part. She didn't like waiting to help people, she just wanted to bustle in and help get everyone out safely and be useful rather than stand around waiting like a spare bag of parts nobody needed.

But she knew she couldn't help. The last time she tried, Evan got in her way and told her not to and Eddie went silent and kept giving her that look that let her know she was in trouble. It wouldn't be worth getting in the way to try and help and end up having the boys get angry at her and have Bobby tell her the rules again and again.

Her arms stayed folded over her stomach as if for protection and she took a few daring steps closer to the overturned RV. (Y/n) leaned down and peeked through the windscreen.

"Cap, we might have a spinal injury." Chimney's quiet voice came through the radio and (Y/n) pursed her lips. It was a good job dispatch was still on the line and contacting a different team. Airlifting the patient to the hospital was faster and safer than the bumpy road, moving and jostling her too much would only do her more damage.

Turning around, (Y/n) backtracked down the road, past the few cars that had swerved to a stop to try and assist and went towards the ambulance. She opened the back doors and hopped in, grabbing the two backboards they had stocked up. Once both boards were slumped on the gurney, (Y/n) clicked off the brakes and wheeled it down.

It was hard to steer the gurney when no one was stood at the other end, it was like moving a shopping trolley wityh a dodgy wheel and a lot of weight piled in. But she weaved between the cars like an expert driver and skidded to a stop just shy of the RV.

With one backboard in hand, (Y/n) headed over to the upturned vehicle and crouched down in front of the windshield the team had removed to get inside.

She ignored the pointed look she gained from Hen and kept low, shuffling inside and moving between the seats to pass the backboard across to Evan. "Here, I think Cap's contacted the air services, they'll be ready to take her in a minute."

(Y/n) bit down on her lip and dropped her gaze down to the woman Chimney was slipping a neckbrace on when she felt Evan's piercing gaze. His eyes did a sweep up and down of her and he took the board she handed out before he pointed back towards the front of the van.

"Out. You shouldn't be in here." His tone wasn't harsh but his words were firm.

They were cramped in the back as it was with broken glass, shattered cups, plates, broken metal and God knows whatever else littering the floor. (Y/n) didn't need to be in here risking a fall or a collision of any sort and she was on light duties which meant no heavy lifting either.

"Yes, bossy." (Y/n) murmured in response with her hands raised and she clocked the grin Chimney aimed her way before she turned around.

(Y/n) grabbed the headrests and used them to propel herself back through the mess and towards Hen who was crouched down with the driver. The young girl didn't look to be much older than (Y/n) and she had a severely broken leg, a few damaged ribs and a concussion. But she was awake and alert which was a good thing.

She patted Hen's shoulder and moved back through the windshield to grab the second backboard. And she bent down just on the threshold of the bonnet and went down on her knees to stop her legs from aching in a crouched position.

"Didn't you hear Buck?"

"He told me to get out, I'm not technically in there, am I?" (Y/n) placed the backboard in front of her knees so it was between her and the victim they needed to transport.

Bobby had been derailed over the other side of the bridge to help sort evacuations and make sure everyone else was getting out. Eddie was assessing another driver and there wasn't another fire unit here yet. Hen was going to have to wait for help or let (Y/n) help her get this girl out and in the ambulance. Both Evan and Chimney were occupied with the lady in the back.

"What's your name, honey?" She looked down at the girl with a bright smile and carefully slipped a neck brace on her while Hen made sure her leg was secured in a brace. They needed to keep the broken leg in place and stop any arteries or veins from bursting.

"Molly."

"Shall we get you in the ambulance, Molly?" She reached out and took the IV bag from Hen and placed it on her shoulder before she inched closer to Molly's shoulders so Hen could stay near her feet.

"What happened to light duty?" The pointed look on Hen's face was commanding but she kept her voice low enough so Evan couldn't hear. That was a sign that she wasn't going to tell or command (Y/n) to stop if she tried to help. Hen would only advise and tut.

"Please, like I'm not already doing heavy lifting. This baby probably weighs more than Molly." (Y/n) glanced her eyes down to her stomach. She was carting this child around all day and night, sharing the weight of a backboard for less than a minute wasn't going to hurt or strain (Y/n) anymore than normal.

She wasn't doing the firemans lift or carrying Molly by herself, it was only a few steps from the car to the gurney (Y/n) had moved as close as she could. She would be fine and they both knew it.

Hen rolled her eyes but sighed and gave in. They needed to get Molly in the ambulance and both women needed to be at the hospital. And (Y/n) wanted to help, Hen could see how desperate she was getting on calls to try and be of some use.

Molly groaned and closed her eyes tight when they lifted her up and carefully eased her onto the back board. Once she was secure, (Y/n) pushed into a crouching position and lifted her end of the board as Hen started to shuffle out the car.

They held her up between them and walked across to the gurney and carefully placed the board on top of the gurney. Hen held onto Molly and helped her lift up enough so (Y/n) could pull the board away and slump it down on the floor.

"See, easy transfer. Do you want to wait for your friend?" (Y/n) braced her hand on the back of the gurney and smiled encouragingly when Molly nodded.

The three of them watched as Evan and Chimney soon emerged from the windshield, backboard balanced between them level with their chests. They could get her straight in the chopper that had landed about fifty feet away, in the centre of the evacuated bridge. Once she was off, they could transfer Molly to the hospital and be out on their next call of the day.

(Y/n) tilted her head down and smiled at Molly as she said a quick goodbye to her friend who they mistook for her mother. But her lips pressed together tightly when she looked up at the same time as Evan frowned at her.

He had enough strength to hold the backboard with one hand as if it and the lady on top of it weighed nothing at all. The way his shoulder and bicep tensed made (Y/n) shiver but it was how Evan pointed his free hand at her that made her knees shake.

"You're in trouble." He muttered before holding the board properly again and following Chimney towards the chopper.

"Is he your partner?" Molly asked quietly, looking between both women when Hen snorted and laughed.

"One of them." Hen retorted with a cheesy grin but she straightened up when Bobby and Eddie started heading their way. It didn't take long for them to assess the situation, seeing Evan and Chimney handing over their patient to Lucy in the chopper. And when Bobby looked between (Y/n) and the gurney, his hands fell to his hips as he tried to gain his breath back.

"Alright, I want you both in the ambulance, get ready to transport. We'll finish up evacuating and wait for traffic control." Bobby pointed to the ambulance and (Y/n) and Hen both nodded.

He would wait until later to reprimand (Y/n) for not listening to him and waiting like he asked.

"I'm gonna check that van, see what's in the back."

"Good idea."

Eddie nodded and bypassed Bobby, resting his hand briefly on (Y/n)'s hip as he walked behind her. His fingers danced over the hem of her trousers and near her stomach before he headed off to see the van just ahead of them. He didn't like the thought of leaving without checking to make sure no one was unconscious and trapped in the back. And he wanted to check what was in the back. It wouldn't be the first time they had a van caught up in a collision with dangerous chemical tanks in the back.

"Let's get you ready to go."

(Y/n) nodded at Hen and followed her lead, pushing the end of the gurney as Hen wheeled the front and trailed towards the ambulance. It was much easier when there was some weight on the gurney and two people to steer it in the right direction.

When they got to the ambulance, a silent exchange passed between them and they silently agreed. Hen would dirve the ambulance. (Y/n) didn't like driving either the ambulance or the truck, it made her nervous. And her stomach was starting to get in the way of the steering wheel.

Once the gurney was in the back, (Y/n) locked it in place and set the saline IV bag off her shoulder and on the end near Molly's feet so the wire wouldn't get tangled.

"Do you want some morphine for the pain?" She could see Molly's mangled leg was going to cause her some discomfort and she was still crying. Although she was trying to hold strong and take deep breaths, all Molly wanted to do was cry and wail.

"Please."

(Y/n) leaned across the stackers and found some bottled morphine, filling a needle which she then carefully injected into Molly's right leg.

"Will I need surgery?"

Tilting back, (Y/n) leaned to the right and took a look at her leg. The break wasn't puncturing through any muscle and the bone wasn't exposed through the skin. She would need it setting back in place and a pot on her leg, but that didn't necessarily require surgery.

"I wouldn't think so, just a cast and no driving for a few months." She smiled as she busied herself putting a pulse monitor on Molly's finger just as a precaution and to keep check on her vitals. She could already feel the ambulance pulling away, ready to head down to the hospital.

"God, we were supposed to be on a road trip, not a hospital trip." Molly tilted her head back and dragged her fingers through her hair, brushing the tangled strands away from her eyes and off her sweaty forehead. She could feel herself wanting to cry again and a sob caught in the back of her throat. But when she turned to look at (Y/n), she let her eyes linger on her stomach and her expression softened. "Is it your first?"

A soft smile formed on (Y/n)'s lips and she nodded as her eyes cast down to her stomach. This was technically her first pregnancy, but they had Chris waiting for them at home and he had started calling (Y/n) his mum and referring to Evan as pops. He prided himself on telling people he had a mum and two dads at home.

"Do you know what you're having?"

"No, but my money's on a boy." The three of them had decided to keep it a surprise, but that didn't stop them from guessing and speculating.

(Y/n) thought it would be a boy, mainly because then she would be outnumbered and fully surrounded by four boys. But she knew Eddie wanted a girl and Evan guessed it was a girl, although he was just excited to have a baby in his arms soon enough.

She could see Molly's smile spreading and she was about to say something else, most likely ask another question to distract herself from the pain and uncertainty she felt. But she stopped herself when she realised (Y/n)'s soft, motherly look had switched to confused, tense brows and pursed lips.

Why were they going backwards?

She knew Hen had turned the ambulance around when she pulled up, all she had to do was veer to the left and go straight. She didn't have any reason to be reversing. And they were in the middle of the road, at this angle, where could she be reversing to?

"Hen?"

"I-"

(Y/n) slammed both her hands down on the gurney and locked her knees when the ambulance shuddered.

What the Hell was that?

It didn't stop. It felt like the tyres were coming loose and rolling away as the back end of the ambulance dropped down a few feet, tilting everything at an odd angle. (Y/n) leaned her weight on the gurney that thankfully stayed locked in place and didn't move towards the back doors, but she could feel her heart jumping into her throat when the ambulance started to move.

Somehow, that didn't feel like Hen's driving. That felt like they were going down a slope. How could they be going down a slope when they were on a bridge?

"What's happening?"

(Y/n) didn't have the answer to that. She couldn't bring herself to look down at Molly and try to lie to her and give reassurance. (Y/n) wanted reassurance herself, but she knew she wasn't going to get it.

She looked ahead towards the front of the ambulance and what she saw out the windscreen terrified her. She could see the bridge. Great cracks in the concrete floor like tree roots sprouting from the earth broke apart the floor in great chunks. It looked as if the road was made of polysterine and someone had snapped it in half.

They were falling off the bridge. Where were they going to land? How were they going to land? Would they all be crushed?

"No! No!" Evan bashed his palms against the side of the ambulance, moving in the opposite direction. But he didn't know what he was trying to do or how he thought he could help or stop such a large vehicle like that. Telling it to stop wasn't going to work and he couldn't hold it up in any way.

As the ambulance veered down to the left, plummeting towards the ground below where gravity was at its strongest, Evan tried running to the right. He hurried along the crumbling tarmac, avoiding falling chunks of stone, shattered pieces of glass and large slumps of brick and concrete.

His hands crashed down on the bonnet of the ambulance and a terrified scream left his lips when he could no longer feel the ground beneath his feet.

He had nothing to hang onto. Nothing was around for Evan to grab when the half of the bridge he was stood on was falling towards the ground and he was too far gone to try and reach for the remaining bridge that was still standing.

His breath caught in his lungs and his stomach lurched up towards his throat when his feet left the floor and for a split second, maybe two, he was falling. He didn't fall for as long as he thought he would. It felt just like Evan had dreamt he was about to fall off a cliff. Just as his body fell, he jolted awake.

In the space of a second, his body crashed against the ambulance which broke his fall and knocked him out.

***

Throbbing aches pulsed through Evan's body with his blood like he was a duke box radiating waves of pain out into the air. He found the strength to open his eyes but he had to focus his vision and find out where the blood was coming from that was dripping onto the windscreen.

His nose. God, it ached and pounded like someone had punched him. But when his gloved fingertips dabbed against his nose, he was relieved to find it still in tact and in place; it wasn't broken.

He could feel the blood welling up in his mouth and when his lips parted, blood and spit dribbled off his tongue and teeth and onto the broken windscreen that was holding him up.

He didn't feel safe.

He wasn't so sure how strong the ambulance was or if this sheet of glass was going to keep him up for very long. And when he focused his eyes past the blood and into the ambulance, he had the perfect view of Hen. No blood, no obvious breaks or abrasions, but no movement either.

"Hen? Hen?" His voice crackled through the radio, but she stayed silent and unconscious. "Bobby? Bobby… Captain Nash, do you copy?"

No response.

"Chim?"

"I'm good, I'm up on the bridge, no damage done to me this time."

He was up top. That was some good news. He had access to the truck and the winch and harnesses and any equipment Evan might need to find the rest of their team and get them out safely. He didn't have to climb his way back up to the top of the bridge if Chimney was already stationed up there and unharmed.

"Eddie?" Evan gulped as he spoke his partner's name. He was desperate for an answer, but unsure whether he wanted to actually hear it or not.

He didn't want to imagine whereabouts Eddie was. Evan didn't see him on the bridge, nor did he see Bobby either just before it collapsed. He didn't want to guess where his boyfriend was or if he was hurt or okay or unconscious.

"Ugh, I- I'm in the van, a-and I'm stuck." Whatever else Eddie murmured was too quiet for Evan to hear.

Evan leaned over the side of the ambulance as carefully as he could to get a look around. What van was Eddie in? Was it back up on the bridge, or was it somewhere beneath them in all this debree and mess? He got his answer when he looked down. The ambulance was resting on top of a van, and Evan would bet any luck that it was the van his boyfriend was trapped in.

"Oh, I've broken a few ribs." Eddie hissed and closed his eyes, trying to take deep breaths but it only made the pain worse. So he switched to short, panting breaths that were shallow enough that it didn't burn his ribs or make them twitch and ache. But a sudden thought sent his blood curdling and made his breaths hitch even faster. "(Y/n)? Fuck, baby are you okay?"

He hadn't heard her through the radio.

Neither of the boys had.

"(Y/n)?"

"I- oh, I'm here- I'm awake." She didn't know what to say. She wasn't sure if she was okay, but she was awake and somewhat alert and the boys needed to know that.

It took some effort to open her eyes and once she did, (Y/n) tried to look around and gather her bearings.

She was on the floor.

She was wedged in the corner of the ambulance, very close to the back doors which she hoped wouldn't swing open and make her fall.

Her eyes danced around the ambulance and she let out a shaky breath when she looked over herself. Poor Molly was curled up on the stretcher, trying to balance and stay upright as she sobbed and trembled like a leaf. And (Y/n) had both legs stretched out, awkwardly slumped beneath the gurney which luckily hadn't run over her legs in the struggle.

But when she looked down to her left, her lips pulled down in a grimace and she sniffed. The gurney had broken. Part of the metal frame had snapped off and it had sliced against the upper side of her left arm.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, a few scrapes… I think my knee's dislocated. The baby's moving, that's a- a good sign, right?"

"That's good." Eddie gruffed, trying to catch his breath and remain calm but it was getting increasingly hard when he was stuck like a mouse in a trap.

It took some effort for (Y/n) to wriggle her right arm out of her jacket and she reached behind her to grab the back of her jacket. She leaned to the right, slowly peeling her arm away from the metal pole from the gurney. She slowly dragged her jacket off her left arm that was starting to burn and ignite. Once it was off, she looked down at her arm and took another deep, shuddering breath.

The metal had sliced right through the skin, separating it down near the muscle. But at least it wasn't impaled in her arm or cut through to the bone; small mercies.

"Molly, can you pass me a pack from that drawer? It should have some gauze and packing in." She held her hand out and pointed towards the cupboard just above the gurney. She needed some gauze to pack and bind her arm until it could be stitched up.

"This?"

"Hm."

Once she had it, (Y/n) ripped the plastic packaging with her teeth and unfolded the bandage glued to some large cotton padding. She bound it tight around her arm, grimacing and stiffling a moan when she pulled it as tight as she could to stem the bleeding.

"Are you okay?" (Y/n) tilted her head back against the wall and looked across at Molly. She hoped the gurney had softened any wounds or bruises Molly might have gotten in the fall. She looked okay, and she shakily nodded. Nothing was wrong apart from her previous injuries.

(Y/n) managed a tight-lipped smile and she kept her left arm tight to her side to try and ignore the throbbing ache and each pulse of her heartbeat that sent her arm thudding. She flopped her hand on her stomach and started to glide her fingertips up and down.

She could feel the baby moving. That had to be a good sign. She wasn't hurt anywhere else apart from her arm and her knee which she just knew was dislocated. Maybe a few bruises here and there, but (Y/n) prayed no harm or damage had been done to the baby. They were kicking and wriggling which she took as a good sign and it was comforting. If she felt nothing at all, she would of been crying in panic.

Reaching her hand out, (Y/n) pressed her right hand into the floor and closed her eyes, trying to steady herself and take a deep breath when the ambulance moved.

Evan was climbing through the window into the front to try and talk to Hen and bring her back round.

Evan patted Hen's shoulder when the smelling salts in his pocket brought her back round. He smiled and checked her over before he peered into the back of the ambulance. He couldn't see (Y/n) at first. But after a second look around, he realised she was stretched out on the floor in the far right corner.

"How you doing back there?"

(Y/n) smiled but it faded to a grimace and she closed her eyes when the ambulance shuddered. She prayed it wouldn't move until they had it on a winch and tied off. The last thing they needed was another fall.

"Get her out." Eddie slammed his hands down on the floor and tried to dig his fingertips into the metal to drag himself out, but he couldn't. From his waist downwards, he was imbedded in a pile of rubbish and furniture that was squeezing down on his ribs and making his legs go numb.

"I need to get you first-"

"Get. Her. Out."

"Eddie if I do that and the weight shifts you'll get crushed. Chim, get the winch set up I need harnesses and clips to secure this ambulance so it doesn't fall. As soon as I get Eddie, me and Hen can get the girls out."

"I'm not going anywhere." (Y/n) spoke softly into the radio and nodded across at Evan.

She was safe and secure for now, she wasn't bleeding out or in dire pain or need of a doctor. (Y/n) and Molly were okay to wait in here, they had medicine and equipment and all the first aid tools they needed for an emergency.

Once Evan freed Eddie, he and Chimney could secure the ambulance and get everyone out and then they could work on finding Bobby who hadn't called in his location yet. They had to have a system and they had to work this like any other call. Eddie couldn't call the shots and take a dangerous risk with his safety because he wanted his girlfriend out first. Evan wanted her out too. Evan wanted her and the baby safe and sound but he couldn't risk crushing their partner in order to do that.

"Okay, hang tight and I'll be as quick as I can."

Evan didn't wait for Chimney to send down a harness. He shuffled out of the ambulance, keeping tight hold wherever he could and scuffed his boots against the side to scrape down the rubble and get down. He felt like he was rolling down the snow on the side of a mountain, trying to safely reach the bottom.

He stumbled once he was on firm ground and his knees shook when gravity got hold of him once again. He rounded to the back of the van that was squashed between the broken concrete and being crushed down with the ambulance resting on the top.

"Eddie? Babe, you in there?"

"Yep."

"Alright." Evan tried the doors but they were jammed, he wasn't getting in without a set of jaws. He turned on his heels and took a look around, feeling like a tidal wave of relief had crashed over him when he noticed another station pulling up along with some police.

Just the help he needed.

Whoever got out the truck with a set of jaws was a lifesaver and Evan didn't give them time to question him or complain. He confiscated the jaws from their hands and bolted back over to the van.

Once the doors were cut open, Evan wrenched and yanked on the door until it swung loose and almost hit him in the face. It took his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the bright streams of sunlight that poured behind him and lit up the previously damp, musty van.

He squinted and leaned down to try and locate his boyfriend.

There he was. All Evan could see was Eddie's arms, head and shoulders, the rest of him was cut off with chairs, odd bits of furniture and God knows what else this van was carrying.

Evan climbed up and looked around, wincing when Eddie grabbed the back of his boot to stay stable and secured to something. There wasn't time to try and dig Eddie out of this mess by hand. He couldn't start removing every item and uncover Eddie, it would take too long and be a lot of work and pain.

"Buck…" Eddie rolled his lips together and reached his hand up. He wanted out. He needed out, now.

"You know this is gonna hurt?"

Something flashed across Eddie's eyes as he rose a brow and huffed. The look almost made Evan laugh whereas his words only seemed to irritate Eddie, but he nodded all the same. He didn't care if it hurt, he just needed to get out and get some feeling back in his body and move. They needed to go and get (Y/n) and they had wasted enough time already.

He still wasn't happy Evan had come down to free him first. He should of got (Y/n) out, she was their priority.

With a deep breath, Evan crouched down and held out his right hand until Eddie grabbed it with a fierce grip. He held Eddie's elbow with his other hand, nodded down at him and started to pull.

"Aghh… Fuck!" Eddie slammed his right hand down on the floor and screamed when something sharp grated against his right hip. He bashed his gloved hand down again and again and kicked his legs until Evan dragged him enough to shimmy his hips free.

As soon as Evan started to walk backwards, Eddie crushed his knees into the floor and crawled as he finally got free from his cage.

He stumbled up onto his feet and flopped against Evan's chest as his knees gave way. He took a few deep breaths, feeling Evan's hand let go of his elbow and move to cradle the back of his neck instead. Each breath Evan took fanned against the side of Eddie's head and tickled the shell of his ear, but it felt comforting.

When he felt Evan press a kiss just behind his ear, it seemed to snap Eddie back into reality and he gave his partner a tight squeeze before he pulled back and stood on his own two feet again.

His arm flopped out across the back of Evan's shoulders and he leaned his temple against the side of Evan's head as they slowly climbed out the van. Eddie cradled his left hand against the right side of his chest, wincing and hissing through his breaths. He had a few breaks, two at the least, possibly as many as four broken ribs.

God, he was going to be in pain for the next few weeks.

"Alright, go sit down. I'm gonna rig up and get them out the ambulance." Evan looked over his shoulder but he hated the sudden anger and pain that pooled in Eddie's eyes and made his upper lip curl.

"We're getting (Y/n) out."

"Babe you're injured, let me do this."

He could see that Eddie was in pain and a harness was only going to amplify that pain. Broken ribs could lead to a punctured lung, the last thing Evan wanted or needed was Eddie suffocating and breathing into his chest cavity. He could watch and wait and when (Y/n) was out he could help and get in another ambulance with her.

"That's our girl and our baby, I'm not waiting around. I'm coming with you." He wasn't sitting back like a useless ornament and letting Evan do this on his own.

That was their girlfriend and their unborn baby up there, Eddie was going up to get them out whether Evan agreed to this or not.

"Guys, I've secured the ambulance to the truck, going down for Molly now." Hen spoke into her radio and nodded up at Chimney who was leaning over the side of the bridge to check everything was going smoothly.

Hen barged the side door to the ambulance open and stood on the threshold. "Alright (Y/n), I'm gonna get Molly down, and then Buck should be able to get you out, okay?"

The harness she wore was tight and cutting into her chest that already felt a little worse for wear. She was closest to Molly, it would be easier to rig Molly onto a harness and get her down. Then the boys could climb in and get (Y/n) out between them and get her to safety.

She hooked her hands beneath Molly's arms and gently eased her up onto the end of the gurney so she could get a harness round her.

"Oh god."

"(Y/n)?" Hen paused in her administrations, halfway through with strapping the spare harness around Molly when (Y/n) gasped.

"No, no, oh boys…" Terror flooded (Y/n)'s voice as she dug her fingers so tightly into the radio on her shoulder that she almost snapped it in two. She could feel her body beginning to shake and her eyes closed as tightly as she could manage.

She needed the boys. Now.

"Baby what's wrong?" Evan latched his free hand around Eddie's shoulder and held onto him tight, stopping him from trying to get a harness on.

What was happening in that ambulance? Why was (Y/n) beginning to cry?

"I- oh, I think my water broke."

[roosterforme]

How Old Are You? | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Bob only gets one birthday every four years. When his wife, Molly, realizes it's almost Leap Day, she throws him a party any nine year old would love. And it's the perfect celebration for a thirty-six year old, too.

Warnings: Fluff, adult language, implied smut, 18+

Length: 2500 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC!Molly (this story accompanies The Curveball)

Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Bob was half asleep in bed, post orgasm, when the weird conversation started. "So technically you're about to turn nine? Even though you'll be thirty-six? Is that right?"

He cracked his eyes open again as he watched his wife stretch her arms above her head, her nipple piercings glinting in the soft candlelight that had their bedroom aglow. She was nibbling on her lip, and he could practically see her mind working.

"Yeah," he answered cautiously. "Why do you have that expression on your face, Mo? Like you're plotting something scary?"

"I've never plotted something scary a day in my life!" she told him before leaning down and gently biting his bicep. "I was merely considering what I should get you for your special day."

"I don't need anything," he replied quickly, remembering the naked cowboy statue wearing glasses that she gifted to him last year.

"Well," she said, drawing out the single syllable. "That's where I think you're wrong, Bobby."

"Molly, I don't even want anything." Then he had an idea that he hoped would throw her off. "How about you get some pretty new barbells or rings and let me play with them?"

She rolled her eyes. "That would be a gift for me."

He shrugged as she draped herself across him. "Kind of for both of us when you really think about it."

Her soft lips found his jaw as she whispered, "But it's not every day you turn nine, Coach Cute Glasses. You deserve an extra special treat."

He shook his head in exasperation and said, "I'll really be thirty six though."

"Not according to the calendar." She kissed him sweetly before climbing over him to get out of the bed. "I'll go check on Charlie and Flora one last time before we go to sleep." Bob watched her slip his discarded undershirt on and smooth it down over her gorgeous body, perhaps a little more filled out now that they had two kids.

He reached for her hand and said, "Mo, we really need to sell the condo and get a bigger place. They can't share that tiny room forever."

Even though she told him all the time that she loved the condo and didn't want to leave it, she was finally starting to come around. "I think I'm ready to admit that you might be right about that, Uncle Bob."

"Really?" he asked, jolting up in bed.

She nodded and hummed. "Yes. Besides, your birthday party would be a lot easier to plan if we had more space to accommodate all the guests."

Bob groaned and flopped back down again, and Molly removed his glasses for him. "I don't need a birthday party," he insisted. "I just want a nice, quiet evening with you and the kids. Maybe your sister, Ev and Bradley, too, but that's it."

"We'll see," she replied before leaving the bedroom with a wicked smirk on her face.

----------------------------

"Can you get to my sister's house by noon on your birthday? For your party?" Molly asked as she watched Bob feed a mashed up banana to their one year old daughter. 

"I thought we ended that discussion with us both accepting the fact that I do not need a birthday party."

"Yeah... it's too late for that," she replied easily as she and Charlie both ate their own dinners. Molly's favorite hobby was keeping her husband on his toes. She figured his life would be sad and boring without her in it, and since he chose to be with her, he must have a deep-seated love for nonsense. She always made sure to bring it out for him, especially for his birthday. 

He gave her a stern look. "It's just a small party, right?"

"Sure, Bobby."

"I don't believe you."

"Oh come on," she whined. "This is your first real birthday since we met!"

She knew he would crack. He gave her what she wanted the vast majority of the time anyway, but when she whined for something harmless, it was always hers. 

"Fine."

And with that single word, Molly executed the most epic ninth birthday anyone could ever have. She called the vendors. She ordered the piñata. She invited the guests. She procured a balloon arch. And on Bob's birthday, her own sister and brother-in-law were looking at her with shocked expressions from their back deck when she started setting things up at eight in the morning. 

"I thought this was going to be a small party?" Bradley asked as he watched her assemble the red and yellow balloon arch. 

Molly just laughed. "That's just what I told Bob. I lied. The pony should be arriving soon."

"Pony?" gasped her sister. "I'm sorry, I must have misheard. Did you say a pony is arriving?"

"Yes," Molly said, speaking a little louder now to make her point. "How the hell are we supposed to have a cowboy birthday party without pony rides?"

Then Everett came tearing out onto the back deck, still in his pajamas, shouting, "Someone is bringing a horse around from the driveway!"

"See?" Molly asked as the pony and handler appeared in the backyard. "Ev is excited. He has good taste."

"He's ten!" Bradley snapped as he went running across the yard. "Is this thing going to tear up the grass that I spent months watering so it looked this nice?" But as soon as he saw how excited Everett was to pet the cute animal, Molly knew her brother-in-law would be on her side. It was just her sister glaring at her now.

"Whatever you mess up out here, you need to clean up. That includes the horse poop!"

"It's just a pony," Molly assured her, although the animal was a lot bigger than she expected. And yes, it was actually pooping. "It's fine. It'll be fine."

She was hoping it would be fine.

--------------------------

When Bob buckled Charlie and Flora back into their car seats in his truck at Myers park, he checked the time. It was almost noon. "Oh god," he groaned as he opened the driver's door. He had no idea what to expect, but the text from Bradley about how he was going to need help filling in the hoof prints in their yard next week had him on edge.

"Birthday party!" Charlie cheered from the backseat as Bob pulled out onto the main road. Molly had been talking about it so much, their son kept saying it over and over.

"That's right," Bob told him calmly. "But I'm pretty sure Mommy went bananas over the entire thing."

"Nana!" Flora crooned before she burst into tears. He should have known better than to mention her favorite food right in front of her like that. So he drove to his sister-in-law and brother-in-law's house with one delighted child and one who was crying hysterically. When he pulled down their block, there was absolutely nowhere to park, and there was a horse trailer parked right in front of the house. 

"Oh, no. No no no. Molly, no," he whispered. When he got closer, he saw the massive banner hanging on the porch that said Happy Birthday, Cowboy Bob. He had to squeeze his truck into the driveway behind the familiar blue Bronco while he gaped at the sight before him.

"Horse!" Charlie screeched. He wasn't wrong. There was some sort of pony walking around the backyard with Everett perched on top of the saddle wearing a cowboy hat. "I want the horse!"

"Okay," Bob told him as he shook his head and climbed out of the truck. He walked around to the back of the house with one child in each arm, and thankfully when Flora saw the pony, she stopped crying, perhaps out of fear. 

"Bob!" Molly shouted over the classic country music that was playing as she popped out of the enormous rodeo themed bounce house and ran to him. Literally everyone he'd ever seen in his life seemed to be here, and they were all wearing cowboy hats. Everyone from work was here. Like everyone. Cyclone was wearing a cowboy hat and drinking a beer. Bob thought he saw the doctor that Molly worked with who delivered both of their children. His parents and both of his sisters were here. His niece Piper was taking a turn riding the pony. There were indeed hoof prints in the yard.

Then Molly was somehow in his arms along with both kids, and she was kissing his neck as she said, "Happy birthday," in a voice that would have been a lot more appropriate for their bedroom. 

"Mo," he said, shaking his head. "There's a pony. It's making Bradley look constipated." 

She just rolled her eyes in response. "He'll get over it as soon as I offer to watch Everett for a few days over spring break so he and my sister can go away and do nasty stuff to each other."

Bob just smiled down at her and said, "You told me this would be a small affair."

"I guess I lied. Oops. Come say hi to Phoenix." She dragged him up onto the deck where Natasha took both kids from him with a kiss to his cheek, and then Molly was yanking his shirt over his head.

"What are you doing?" he asked, standing there in his undershirt with his glasses askew. But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, she was pulling another shirt over his head. It said Birthday Cowboy, and there was a number 9 that looked like it was shaped out of rope.

And that's when everyone started hugging him and running around to get him drinks and chat with him. Mickey was wearing cowboy boots and a cow print vest. Maverick was teaching the kids how to line dance. Bradley's scowl had started to ease up since Everett seemed to be having the time of his life. 

"Happy birthday, Uncle Bob," Everett said when he walked over. He hugged Bob and added, "Your birthday party is my favorite birthday party ever, and I can't believe it's in my yard!"

"Thanks, Ev," he replied with a laugh as he watched Molly and Flora dancing with Javy. "It is pretty cool."

"Happy birthday, Bob," his sister-in-law said, handing him a card. "You can open it later. We got you opening day tickets for the Padres. Also, I'm so sorry that my sister is so chaotic, but you should have known what you were getting into when you started dating her."

Bob accepted another kiss on his cheek. "She really can't be stopped once she gets going." 

"It's a waste of time to even try. Might as well sit back and enjoy the show."

He did, and the looser he got, the more fun he started to have. He pet the pony while Piper rode around on it. He smashed open a cowboy piñata with one of Everett's baseball bats. He jumped in the bounce house with Charlie and Everett, and Bradley even joined them.

"I'll help you fix your yard next week," Bob promised as Everett did a backflip. 

Bradley just laughed and said, "It's hard to be mad about it when Molly just wants everyone to have the time of their life. You're very lucky. Also, I don't know how you deal with her on a daily basis."

Bob laughed, too. "Sometimes I just take it one hour at a time."

"Get ready for cake!" Molly shouted, and it took five people to carry out the biggest sheet cake he'd ever seen in his life. It was cow print and decorated with boots and spurs, and said Happy 9th Birthday, Cowboy Bob!

After he blew out the nine candles he reached for Molly. "Thank you," he whispered, kissing her softly. "I didn't know I needed a ninth birthday party, but I guess I really did."

"You're only a kid once, Bobby," she replied, smiling against his lips.

"You do know I'm actually thirty-six, right?" he asked, pulling her snug against him as her sister started to cut up the cake. 

"Not according to the calendar," she responded, patting him gently on the cheek. "Your mom and I had a lovely conversation about how terrible you look for your age."

He tried not to smile, but it was useless. "I'm actually having the best day, Mo."

"I knew it all along."

---------------------------

Both kids were sound asleep as soon as Molly tucked them into bed. Charlie went on a sugar high and then crashed, and Flora was played with and held by seemingly everyone at the party. They would probably sleep for a solid twelve hours. Which was good, because Molly wanted to give her husband the rest of his birthday presents. 

She found him in their bedroom where he was opening up the cards he got with a soft smile on his face. "You have so many friends," she told him, and he turned to look at her. "Everyone loves Bob Floyd."

He actually blushed which made her want to rip all of his clothing to shreds and have her way with him. He shook his head slightly and said, "Everyone loves the amazing Molly Floyd and her beautiful imagination."

"Bobby," she moaned softly, taking the card from his hand and wrapping her arms around him. "Tell me more about how amazing I am."

He laughed and whispered, "You threw me the equivalent of a kids' ninth birthday party, just because you could. My dad participated in the pie eating contest. My mom learned how to line dance. Bradley almost popped a vein in his forehead. It was wonderful."

She sighed in contentment. "In four more years when you turn ten, we'll be in a bigger house, and we can host your party there. But we'll have to wait and see if you're still into cowboys or if your interests change, Kiddo. Now will you please open your present from me? And put on your cowboy hat? I've always wanted to suck a real cowboy's cock."

Bob grinned. "Molly, you suck my cock when I'm wearing my cowboy hat all the time."

"But you've never had assless chaps before."

Bob let out a strangled sound, and when he opened the box that was wrapped in cowboy paper, there were in fact assless chaps inside. "Please, please, please put them on," Molly moaned. "God, I feel like it's my birthday."

As soon as she started whining, he always gave her what she wanted. It was impossible not to. Five minutes later, Bob was standing in the middle of the bedroom wearing the chaps, his birthday shirt, and his old cowboy hat. Molly was panting and biting her knuckle, already obviously raring to go down on him, which just made him harder.

But she took a step toward him and then stopped, a devilish smirk on his face. "Now wait. I'm having a bit of a moral dilemma with you in that shirt. How old are you again?"

"I'm thirty-six," he replied blandly. 

"You sure about that, Cowboy Bob?"

"Molly! I'm thirty-six!"

"Okay, okay. Just checking," she said, reaching for the bottom of his shirt. "But let's just remove this anyway."

------------------------

I had a blast revisiting these two! I'm so deeply in love with Molly. I hope you enjoyed Bob's birthday celebration. Thanks for reading! And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 3, day 14

Happy Pi Day! Nothing super fancy tonight, just playing around with materials and seeing if I can remember anything I learned about making materials in the tutorials I was following

The answer is no, no I cannot remember a damn thing lol Oh well, that's what practice and/or fucking around is for :)

[atimeofyourlife]

Buck was almost vibrating with excitement as he stepped into Bobby's office after three days off, three days that had perfectly lined up with Tommy.

"So, Cap." He started has he approached the desk. "I may have done something impulsive on my days off."

"What did- actually, you know what, I'm not even going to ask." Bobby said, putting his pen down. "Just tell me how much paperwork I'm going to have to do."

"I've already filled it all out, you just need to sign and file it." Buck replied with a grin, sliding the stack of papers he was carrying across the desk to Bobby. Making sure to use his left hand, highlighting the glint of gold now adorning his ring finger.

"Change to benefits, change of relationship status, change of name. Request for new name tag and updating personalized gear." Bobby flipped through the papers. "You and Tommy got hitched without telling the rest of us."

"We got bored. He'd had a rough shift, and we just thought fuck it and went to Vegas." Buck admitted.

"Well, I guess we'll have to get used to calling you Kinard." Bobby smiled at Buck. "Congratulations, kid."

[vivwritesfics]

Romp In The Hay

Bob, his partner, and their perfect life on their farm

Warnings: smut, p in v, sweet shit

He starts his day off in a thick jumper, working from the moment the sun rises. His love is still sleeping, and that's the way he likes it. Starting to work while his partner kept sleeping.

By the time the sun bathes your farm in warmth and light, he pulls his jumper over his head and hangs it over the fence as he feeds the cows. His ladies. He throws their feeds into the trough so he can distract them to get the hay into their field.

Waking up, you walk to the window. With no neighbours but the animals on your farm, you stand in the window with the sheet wrapped around you.

It takes him a minute to spot you, and his hand raises in a wave. You can't help but stare at him, at the way his arm flexes as he waves.

As soon as the cows have hay and water, he grabs his jumper and heads back into the farm house. Getting dressed into his clothes, you make your way down to the kitchen and get started on breakfast.

"Good morning," he says, walking up and wrapping his arms around you. Half the time his voice was raspy from lack of use in the morning, but he had been talking to his cows this morning, making his voice usable. His lips meet the exposed skin of your neck.

"Good morning, Bobby," you reply, hand coming up to push your fingers through his hair. It had gotten long since he left the navy, but it suited him. "How are the girls this morning?"

"Mabel is ready to pop." He sits down at the kitchen table and you plate up his breakfast. Mabel,his favourite cow. It had taken so many tries to inseminate her, Bob was so worried you were going to have to get rid of her, sell her for meat. This time, it took. Bob was over the moon when the vet told you of Mabels fate. Her calf is going to be gorgeous, you both know.

You kiss your husband before he digs into his breakfast. Bob pushes his glasses up his nose as you sit opposite him. "What's on the agenda for today?" You ask.

Bon takes you through it. It's a busy day, but every day on the farm is a busy one. Your hand touches his across the table. "Do you think we'll have any time for the two of us?"

Bob blushes red at your question. He clears his throat as he stands up and grabs both of your plates. He drops them into the sink and walks over to give you a kiss on the head. That's all the response you needed.

The two of you get on with your day. Work on the farm is hard, but the both of you wouldn't give it up for the world. Being able to watch Bob getting hot and sweaty is definitely a bonus.

When he goes into the barn, you follow him. You stop him from grabbing the straw for the chicken coop and take his hand, pulling him further into the barn. "C'mon, Bobby," you whisper with a shy smile and begin unbuttoning your top.

Call him a weak man, but Bob just can't say no to you. He let's you pull him closer, presses his lips to yours as you pull him onto the hay. His hands grip your hips, flipping the two of you over so that you sit on top of his.

His glasses were knocked askew as he kisses down your neck. Your movements are slow, almost gentle as you grind down onto him. "Fuck, honey," Bon grunts between kisses.

Sweetly and slowly, you undress each other. The two of you drop your clothes onto the floor of the barn before you return to each other, unable to stay away for too long.

Bob's hands roam. Where they were once soft, they're now rough, with calluses. The feel of them against your skin is something you never want to forget.

Your hand travels down his stomach. He's softer now than when he was in the navy. Still strong and physically capable, but soft. His stomach isn't all hard ridges and muscles beneath your fingertips.

Your hand wraps around his cock. He sucks in a breath at the feeling.

The two of you fumble through foreplay, desperate for Bob to be inside of you. And, when you finally sink down onto him, Bob releases a breath. "I wish we could stay like this," he whispers, his fingers dancing up your side.

You shift your hips. "We've still got stuff to do," you answer, hands settling on his chest.

Bob pulls you in, kisses you slowly. His hips begin moving, gently thrusting up into you.

It wasn't fucking, it wasn't just sex. It was the two of you savouring what little time you have. Bob holds your hips, moves you above him. His breath comes out in short pants, but he didn't slow down.

Moans fill the barn. Neither of you have to care. There is nobody around to hear you, nobody around to catch you in the act.

It was easy to come undone around Bob. With his entire attention of you, you fall apart around him. It seems to be effortless for him, almost like he he doesn't have to try.

You slump against him, lips touching his chest.

Bob gave a few more desperate thrusts. "Squeezin' me, honey," he whispers, eyes screwing shut. His hips stutter as he finishes, spilling inside of you.

The hay hadn't been itchy on either of your skin until now. Maybe it was because you have to much to do, the feeling against your skin forcing the two of you to get up and get dressed.

There was no time to do anything other than pull Bob towards you, give him one last kiss before you get on with the rest of your work.

Life is perfect. Life on your farm, life with your husband.

[peppermintquartz]

(Tommy's pov of this)

He's in the process of making sure the bird is ready to go when he turns and sees Howie, as well as two unfamiliar young guys following him.

Good-looking faces too. Maybe they should do the calendar next year. The shorter one has large, soulful eyes and a confident stride that speaks of military experience; the other is a tall, leggy man with a boyish smile and seems to be visibly thrumming with energy.

Of course they bring in the studs after I'm gone, Tommy thinks, half-exasperated that he's missed out on eye candy and half-amused at his own shallowness.

"Howie, hey!" Tommy says and embraces his former colleague and current friend. It's not always possible for them to meet up, but a life debt is not something Tommy will forget. "Long time."

Howie claps him on the back. It feels like a silent thank you, which, given the enormity of what they're going to do, the less said aloud the better.

Can't risk someone overhearing that they're going to steal a helicopter on a mere hunch.

Tommy knows he has a good poker face, and it's proven to be effective because no one seems to realize how nervous he is. They may cause an international incident if anything goes "pear-shaped", as his old instructor Winslow used to say, but Tommy isn't about to back out now.

"This is Tommy, Tommy Kinard," says Howie to the other two, telling them about him being a former member of the 118 and also about his being a fathead. At least Howie acknowledges that Tommy's grown out of it.

"Thanks to you," Tommy says. He sticks out his hand to the new faces.

Soulful Eyes grins when he grasps Tommy's hand. A firm grip, almost challenging. "Eddie Diaz."

Tommy smiles, feeling like he's found a kindred spirit. "Pleasure. And you are...?" He extends the hand to the other young guy.

"Uh, Evan," he says, eyes wide and curious like a puppy in a new environment. His hand is warm and dry. "E-Evan Buckley."

"Hi Evan." The splotch just over Evan's left eye is a birthmark, Tommy discovers. To his amusement, Evan doesn't let go of his hand, as if he's completely forgotten that they were just shaking hands in introduction. Tommy doesn't want to embarrass the guy, but he doesn't want to rudely snatch his hand away either. He opts for a slight tease. "I'm gonna need that hand to fly the chopper, kid."

"Oh! Oh, right. Sorry." Evan drops Tommy's hand like it's hot. His ears go red. Tommy thinks, That's so cute, and then sternly warns himself not to read too much into anything. He's not falling for a straight guy again, just because they're cute. And he's glad that he doesn't read too much into Evan's fluster because Evan says, "I was just, um, thinking, about Cap and Thena."

Bobby Nash must mean a great deal to Evan, judging by the way his gaze skitters from Tommy's face to the chopper and bounces lightly on his heels. For some reason, he reminds Tommy of Bambi.

Howie sticks his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, we're gonna need Hen to show soon with some coordinates. Can't go flying all over the Gulf of Mexico."

Tommy makes a mental note to re-check fuel levels. It's definitely topped up, but ninety minutes one way and ninety minutes back in what will definitely be rough conditions is not a walk in the park. Nevertheless, he keeps his tone light. "We'll do what we can."

A pair of headlights slide along the road that leads to harbor. Tommy doesn't really know if it's Hen, but his nerve is starting to give, so he says quickly, "Wait, I see a car pulling in. Might be her. Get in the backseat, strap yourselves in. Once I get Hen clear of Melton, we'll dash. Hopefully she has a good cover story..."

Eddie doesn't hesitate as he scrambles in, nearly knocking his head on the roof of the chopper.

Seeing that they aren't about to call him out on his fake calm demeanor, Tommy blows out his cheeks to center himself. Then he smiles, asking, "If we're all arrested, can I blame it on you, Howie?"

Howie snorts as he gets in next to Eddie. "Yeah I really twisted your arm with the 'Please help us save Cap and Athena'."

(In fact, Howie actually said, "Hen has a hunch, she won't let us help, but she''ll need a chopper. So I'm gonna need you to steal one for us to save Captain Nash and his wife." And Tommy agreed instantly. He trusted Hen Wilson's hunches too.)

"You know it's because of your irresistibly pretty face," Tommy quips as he helps guide Evan - the tallest of the three - in without hitting his head. "Alright, put those helmets on. Careful, Evan," he says when Evan nearly bounces the helmet off the bridge of his sharp nose.

It's a very nice nose. Be a shame to bruise it.

Fuel. And preflight. Tommy inhales sharply and gets into his seat as the three firefighters strap themselves in. It's a calming ritual by now, and he feels ready. He knows he is ready.

And Hen should be here by now.

"Alright. She's ready to go when we are," Tommy announces, patting the stick fondly. As he opens the door to get to the hangar, he says to the three men, "Don't touch anything. I'm gonna hang out near Melton and run intercept."

Howie rolls his eyes. Eddie holds up three fingers of his right hand, like a Scout's promise. "We'll behave."

Evan beams a dazzling smile at Tommy, like they're not actually about to commit a crime.

It's a good thing Tommy has to focus on flying into a hurricane, because otherwise his heart will be tripping all over itself to get Evan to smile like that once more.

Nope. No crushing on a straight guy, Kinard, we've been through this.

Instead, Tommy jogs towards the hangar where he sees Hen approaching Melton, holding a form that Tommy knows will not stand up to scrutiny.

Boy, if you can't convince someone, confuse them, Winslow used to say over drinks after their flying lessons. Act like you know exactly what you're doing and seventy percent of the time they'll let you get away with it.

Tommy takes a deep breath, puts on a smile, and walks into the light of the hangar.

--

edited on AO3

[imhidingonceagain]

Can we talk about the amazing representation inside the QSMP?

These days I've seen a few people (haters for sure) saying that the QSMP has few to none diversity and that makes me mad so let me list the diversity of this two month old server:

Inside of lore

We have diversity in family dynamics:

-Homoparental families

-"Nuclear" families

- A Platonic partner family (I don't know what's the proper word to describe Jaiden, Roier and Bobby's situation pls tell me if you know/ EDIT: I've been informed the proper term would be "Queer platonic relationship").

- Single parents

We have LBTQ+ representation:

-Gay characters

Roier

-Bisexual characters

Vegetta, Rubius

-Aroace characters

Jaiden, Maximus (he's actually acespec)

-Lesbian characters

Baghera (EDIT: Idk about her anymore, sorry)

-Trans characters -including gender fluid and non binary

Juanaflippa, Tilín, Leonarda, Maximus, Trump

-Characters with disabilities

Richarlyson (the Brazilians noticed he has a shorter leg and that's why fanartists draw him with a prosthetic leg + we have collectively decided he's black).

-MLM characters -I'm making it a separate cathegory just because the characters haven't specified a label. But if you know their label lmk so I can edit it-

Quackity

Mariana

Slimecicle

Foolish

Forever

Cellbit

EDIT: (I JUST REMEMBERED!)

We also have neurodivergent representation:

Wilbur and Dapper (Both autistic)

Outside of lore (Real life)

From the moment Quackity included Latin Americans that already made the server diverse since us Latinos are one of the most diverse demographic groups in the world.

But still, let me elaborate:

Diversity of nationalities/ ethnic backgrounds

Mexican, English, Argentinian, American, Spanish, Norwegian (Rubius is half Spanish half Norwegian), Cuban (Maximus is half Spanish half Cuban), German and Japanese (Jaiden), Brazilian, Swiss and French (Baghera), Algeria and Turkish (Ètoiles) (for now).

We have people of color (some of them are clearly mestizos, meaning they have both native and white genes)

Quackity, Jaiden, Missa, Mariana, Roier, Forever, Maximus, Felps, Pac, Mike, Ètoiles, Spreen (please lmk if I'm missing someone I don't want to erase anyone especially because I'm talking about the actual CC)

We have diversity of languages:

Spanish, French, Portuguese and English (for now).

Now... The point that I've seen people the most confused about:

We also have LGBTQ+ REPRESENTATION IN REAL LIFE:

Jaiden (Aroace)

Rubius (Bisexual)

Vegetta (Bisexual)

Mike (Bisexual)

Tilín and Leonarda's admins (Non binary and gender fluid respectively)

Plus, the content creators that for now are classified as "Unlabeled" (Roier and Mariana)

There might be more that aren't out yet. Please stop assuming everyone's straight.

So yeah... The QSMP DOES have diversity.

(My only criticism is that we definitely need more female Content creators but hopefully we'll have them in the future. I'm looking at you Quackity, don't disappoint me. If I'm missing something let me know so I can edit it).

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Bedtime Stories | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: healing from a sexual assault, some tasteful smut (MDNI 18+ ONLY), canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 5344

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

Now that you and the brothers had a working Colt thanks to Bobby and, as much as you hated to admit it, Ruby, the brothers were debating what to do with it. 

“I don't understand, Dean. Why not?” Sam questioned angrily. 

“Because I said so.”

“We got the Colt now!”

“Sam…” Dean warned. 

“We can summon the Crossroads Demon—”

Dean shouted over Sam, “We're not summoning anything—!”

“—pull the gun on her, and force her to let you out of the deal!” Sam finished, getting louder.

You rubbed your temples, head pounding with each shout.

“We don't even know if that'll work!” Dean roared. 

“Well, then we'll just shoot her! If she dies, then the deal goes away!” Sam yelled. 

“Boys!” You finally shouted, silencing them. “Both of you are going to get a grip, or so help me god, I will do this one on my own; you understand?!”

Neither man responded to you, both staring wordlessly at the road ahead. 

“Sam, the crossroads demons don’t hold the contracts—” you began.

Sam cut you off. “How do you—?!”

“Let me finish!” you snapped. 

Sam quieted again. 

“And Dean has already said that if we fuck with this deal at all, you die.”

“And if we don't fuck with it, Dean dies!”

Dean broke back in. “Sam, enough! I am not going to have this conversation.”

The brunet scoffed. “Why, because you said so?”

“Yes, because I fucking said so!” Dean asserted. 

“Well, you’re not Dad!”

The two men stared silently at each other. 

“No, but I am the oldest,” Dean finally said fiercely. “And I'm doing what's best. And you're going to let this go, you understand me?”

Sam turned away and looked angrily out the window. 

“Tell me about the psychotic killer,” Dean ordered calmly. “C'mon, Sam, tell me about the psychotic killer.”

Sam grabbed a paper from his lap and read monotonously. “Psychotic killer… rips victims apart with brute-like ferocity.”

“Any razor sharp teeth or four-inch claws?” you asked. 

“No. But the lunar cycle's right. Look,” Sam sighed, “if it is a werewolf, we don't have long; moon's full this Friday and that's the last time it changes for a month.”

Dean shrugged. “Two days, no sweat.”

***

That night, when you arrived at the motel in the town you’d be hunting in, you and Dean got a room separate from Sam. The two boys decided they needed some time apart after their argument. 

“How do you know that killing the crossroads demon won’t get rid of my deal?” Dean asked, breaking the silence that had settled over you as the two of you got ready for bed.

“Dean—”

“(Y/N),” he said sternly, turning to face you. “Answer me.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you finished pulling on your— well, Dean’s— t-shirt. 

“Sweetheart, please,” he begged you. “Tell me the truth.”

“I’m not gonna mince my words,” you began. “I was trying to get you out of your deal while I was gone. Y’know, before the Seven Deadlies? I tried to make a deal to get you out of yours. No one would bite.”

“(Y/N), why the fuck would you—”

“Because I love you,” you cut him off. You headed over to him and cupped his cheek in your hand. “And if I could stop you from dying without hurting Sam, I would. I’d trade my life for yours in a heartbeat.”

He kissed your palm, but you could tell he was still upset at the thought of you doing that for him. “Are you still trying?”

You shook your head and removed your hand from his face. “No. I knew you’d never forgive me if I was.”

“Damn right,” Dean replied. He stared down at you intensely, and you couldn’t quite read his expression. 

You searched his eyes desperately. “What am I gonna do without you,” you breathed out before you could think about it. 

Dean leaned down and rested his forehead against yours. You closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of him against you. 

You nuzzled your nose against his and slowly leaned in to kiss him. As soon as your lips connected, Dean wrapped his arms around you and held you against him firmly while you threaded your fingers through his hair.

You could feel Dean encouraging you to jump, and you wound your legs around his waist. He caught you easily and walked you over to the bed. Dean gently laid you back on the pillow, and you kept your ankles crossed behind his back. You tugged greedily on his shirt until he tore it off himself, and he then began pushing your shirt up your body. 

You allowed Dean to remove your shirt and then your bra. He looked to you, eyes hungry but pleading and respectful. “Can I—?” He paused. “Can I touch you?”

You nodded, feeling slightly proud of yourself that you were making Dean Winchester get flustered. 

“Words, sweetheart,” he said. 

“Yes. Please touch me,” you begged, arching into him.

He breathed out, almost in relief, and goosebumps formed under his touch as he trailed his fingers down your stomach. Searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation all the way down, he stopped his fingers at your panties. 

“Dean, it’s okay,” you told him. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said, staring at you intensely. 

“Dee,” you told him, grabbing his wrist, “it’s okay. I’m okay.” You guided his hand into the waistband of your underwear and allowed him to slip his fingers between your folds.

You took in a sharp breath as he did so, and Dean leaned in to kiss you passionately. He gently bit your lip every once in a while, and you began to palm him through his boxers. He groaned into your mouth, and you couldn’t wait to feel him against you. 

“Dean,” you said between kisses, “Dee, I need you.”

“God, yes,” he groaned, “I need you, too.”

You kissed him feverishly, hands making quick work of his and your underwear while he played with your breasts. Dean sat back on his knees and stroked his cock. 

You looked up at him, somehow both doe-eyed and wantonly, and spread your legs to expose yourself to him. 

“God, (Y/N),” he breathed out. “You are so… beautiful.”

You smiled warmly, instantly reaching out to pull him back down to you. He happily accepted your touch and lined himself up with your vagina.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked. 

“Yes. God, yes,” you moaned. 

Dean didn’t need to be told twice. Within seconds, he was inside you. He rolled his hips against yours smoothly, kissing you gently as his thrusts stretched you out deliciously. His thrusts soon became sloppy, and he broke the kiss to reach down to your clit.

“Cum for me,” he commanded gently. 

“Need you to first,” you whined. 

“Nuh-uh,” he replied, quickening the circles he made around your clit. “Now.”

“Dean—!” you moaned, suddenly convulsing with your orgasm. You reached out to him and scratched at his back, begging the orgasm to slow down. It hit you suddenly and rolled in in waves that you couldn’t escape from. You couldn’t tell whether or not you wanted Dean to get off you or hold you through it, and your spasming around him sent Dean into his own orgasm. Ropes of his cum shot into you, causing your own orgasm to intensify. You whined and writhed around, feeling the ecstasy would never end. It became almost painful, and Dean did his best to soothe you through it. He let you guide him to where you needed him to touch you or not touch you, and you were grateful for this rare moment of gentleness from him. 

Still inside you, Dean held you against his chest as your orgasm finally subsided. 

“How was that?” he smirked down at you. 

You playfully shoved him away. 

***

Later that night, still in that same position with Dean— you against his chest with his semi-hard cock inside you— your breathing became so deep that you thought Dean assumed you’d gone to sleep. 

“I love you,” Dean admitted. 

Your heart nearly stopped. You looked up to him, a flurry of emotions swirling inside you. “You do?” 

He nodded. “Thought you were sleeping, honestly, but I’m glad you heard it anyway—”

You cut him off with a deep kiss, hugging him to you. You kissed all over his face, and his boyish giggle was what finally made you stop kissing him. “I love you,” you told him. 

“I know.”

“Oh, my god, you did not just Star Wars me,” you scoffed playfully. 

“Oh, c’mon, you had to know I would,” Dean replied, nudging his nose with yours. 

***

The next day, you and the brothers headed to meet the man who’d barely survived the scuff with the werewolf. When you arrived, the man was apparently expecting you to be the sketch artist. 

Much to the brothers relief, your skill with a pen came in quite handy. However, the person who’d killed his brothers was just… human. Interestingly enough, he also had a Wile E. Coyote tattoo. Quite comically, the situation reminded you of the Three Little Pigs story. 

You said as much to the brothers when you left the hospital.

“(Y/N), that’s fucked up,” Sam remarked. 

“I’m sorry! I know it is! But think about it,” you replied, wincing, “three brothers who work at a construction site? Mauled by a guy with a Wile E. Coyote tattoo?”

“I don’t remember the wolf having a fuckin’ cartoon tattoo, sweetheart,” Dean snorted. 

“Whatever. Just thought it was funny,” you shrugged, shoving Dean’s shoulder. “Anyway, what’d you find out from the doc?”

“Not much,” Dean responded, “they were D.O.A. at the scene. He did give me the lowdown on the coroner's report.”

“Lemme guess,” Sam cut him off, “their hearts were missing.”

Dean sighed. “Nope. But chunks of their kidneys, lungs, and intestines.”

“Oh, ew,” you grimaced. 

“Yeah; definitely not werewolf behavior.”

“So, what? Demon? Attacker could've been possessed,” the brunet suggested. 

“Yeah, but that guy said the dude stopped halfway through the attack. Why would a demon do that?” you challenged. 

“I think that, uh…” Sam trailed off. “Could've... Yeah, I got nothing.”

“Me, neither,” said Dean. 

***

That night, you and the brothers had gone your separate way for the evening. Dean, of course, was still sharing a room with you. 

“Hey, I meant to ask you,” Dean began, “were you… okay with last night?”

You smiled lopsidedly at him. “Yeah, I was.” You appreciated his concern with hurting you or retraumatizing you. You supposed that was one of the reasons he was so helpful to you through all this, and he was likely the reason you were able to be intimate with someone a little under five months after the attack. Had that atrocity happened to you prior to meeting Dean, you were sure your situation would’ve had a vastly different outcome. 

You snapped yourself out of your thoughts and began to apply lotion to your legs sitting on the edge of the bed. “Are you and Sam ever gonna talk about your seriously unfinished business?”

“I told him not to bring it up again. So no. And I’d prefer if we didn’t, either,” Dean said sharply. 

“Well, frankly, I don’t give a fuck what you’d prefer. You need to apologize to him,” you told him. 

“Why?” he scoffed. 

“Because I said so,” you stated, throwing the phrase he’d used in his fight with Sam back at him. 

He half-chuckled but was still clearly annoyed.

“See? Not so good of a reason, is it?”

Dean barely gave you time to finish your remark before he was speaking up again. “Why do you even care?” 

“Because I care about you and Sam. And I have to share a car with you two for the foreseeable future. I’d rather you not wanna kill each other until the end of the line,” you jested, putting the jar of lotion on the nightstand next to you. 

Dean lounged against the pillow with his head propped up on the crook of his elbow on the headboard. You shifted yourself to where you were sitting cross-legged next to his hips, facing him. 

“Hey, I don’t wanna keep talking about this every day of our lives till you get dragged to Hell—”

“Good,” he cut you off gruffly, “me neither.”

“—but I’m also not gonna pretend like these discussions aren’t important. I need you to be honest with me and yourself. You are scared of going, and that’s okay—”

“Oh, god—” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Hey,” you said, pushing his chin back towards you. “I wasn’t done. But I need you to be honest with me, or this doesn’t work.” You gestured between the two of you as you spoke. “I don’t need you to be tough all the time. I just need you to keep it real with me.”

“What difference does it make? I still go to Hell when this is over anyway,” Dean replied. 

“But maybe you’d be able to enjoy living a little bit more if you’d just let me in,” you said, cupping his cheek. 

Dean thought for a moment before he kissed the inside of your palm. “You’re right,” was all he could say. 

“I know I am,” you smirked. 

He rolled his eyes at you, but there was genuine amusement behind them. 

***

That night, you didn’t get much sleep. You stayed awake listening to the police scanner and stroking Dean’s hair as he slept soundly beside you. The police scanner held the least of your attention between the two, though. This was another one of those memories you’d hold near and dear to your heart when Dean was gone. 

Around five in the morning, the scanner finally caught your attention. Static, frantic ramblings exchanged discussing a woman that had been found staggering around coming from the woods. When deputies went with her back to the scene, they found a house where the woman’s former hiking partner and their attacker, an old woman, lay dead in the kitchen. 

You hated to wake up the man with his arms wrapped around your hips, but you knew you needed to get to the hospital the victim was being rushed to and interview her. 

“Dean,” you said softly, running your hand through his hair. “Dean.”

He hummed against your hip, tightening his hold of you. You smiled but continued to try and wake him. 

“Dean, c’mon.”

“Hmm,” he grumbled, “what time is it?”

“I’m not even gonna tell you, ‘cause you’ll kill me,” you joked, ruffling his hair. 

He lightly shoved your hand away from his head and returned his strong arms to their original positioning around you. 

“Dean! C’mon; we gotta get to the hospital. Somethin’ came in on the scanner,” you told him. 

“Can it wait till seven?” he asked you. 

“No.” You tried to wiggle out of his arms to move to the bathroom. He refused to let go of you, though, despite your protests through giggles. “C’mon, dude. We gotta get goin’. I gotta go get Sammy.”

“Ugh, fine,” he grumbled, pressing a kiss to your bare hip. 

Goosebumps formed under his lips, and you took in a sharp breath. “Okay, okay, get off me,” you said, gently pushing his arms away from you. 

***

When you arrived at the hospital, you talked to the witness who said she and her hiking partner had been drugged by an old woman who poisoned a pie she fed them. 

Interestingly enough, she also mentioned seeing a little girl with dark hair and pale skin in the window outside the home. 

Naturally, you and the Winchesters went to investigate the house. 

You took in your wooded surroundings and the strange house sitting in the middle of nowhere. You went into the house with Sam and noted the EMF meter in his hand beeping frantically. 

“(Y/N), I’m thinking you may be right about the whole fairytale thing,” Sam said. 

“Dude, I was kidding—”

“Yeah, but I’m not,” he replied. “A guy and a girl? Hiking through the woods, an old lady tries to eat 'em? That's Hansel and Gretel. And, like you said, those three brothers arguing over how to build houses, attacked by the Big Bad Wolf.”

“Like the Grimm Brothers,” you realized. “Sex, violence, cannibalism; a child’s guide to fucked-up folklore.”

“Right,” Sam nodded. “Now, it got sanitized over the years; turned into Disney flicks and bedtime stories.”

“So, why would the ghost be doing a reenactment?” you wondered aloud. “The creepy girl? Pale skin and dark hair sounds like Snow White.”

“You’re right, it does,” Sam said. “But it’s weird that she’s in the middle of another fairytale. But I’m willing to bet you top dollar she was at the construction site too.”

“Dean’s gonna be thrilled. It’s research time,” you snickered.

Sam grinned at you, and the two of you went outside to inform the other brother of your musings. 

***

However, your research came up empty. There had been very few violent childhood deaths in the area, and none of them involved a girl with black hair and pale skin. 

Dean led you and his brother across the street from the library into the park. 

“You wanna know how many little girls with black hair and pale skin that have gone missing?” Dean didn’t give you a chance to respond. “Right again. Zip. zilch, nada. Tell me you've got something good 'cause I've totally wasted the last six hours.”

Sam snorted. “Well, you ever hear of Lillian Bailey? She was a British medium from the 1930s.”

“She got a thing for fairy tales?” Dean questioned.

“Nah, trances. See she'd go into these unconscious states where, uhm, get this, her thoughts and actions were completely controlled by spirits,” the younger brother explained.

“A ghost puppet master,” Dean nodded. 

You rolled your eyes. “In layman’s terms, sure.”

“Think that's what this kid is doing? Sending wolfboy and grandma into trances, making them go kill-crazy?” Dean’s brow furrowed. 

The brunet shrugged. “Could be. You know, kinda like uh, uh, spirit hypnosis or somethin'.”

“Trances I get, but fairytale trances? That's bizarre even for us,” Dean sighed. 

You quickly grabbed Dean’s arm to keep him from stepping on a bullfrog sitting in your path, croaking. 

“Yeah, you're right. That's completely normal,” Sam remarked, looking down at the frog.

“Alright, maybe it is fairytales. Totally messed-up fairytales. Wanna kiss the frog, princess?” Dean looked over at you smirking.

“Fuck no,” you grimaced. You turned to see a pumpkin sitting on the porch of a home. “Huh,” you said. 

“Yeah? It's close to Halloween,” Dean shrugged. 

“No, dude, Cinderella,” you continued. “Pumpkin turns into a coach, and the mice become horses.”

Dean chuckled. 

“What?” you asked.

“I dunno, just never pegged you for the fairytale type. You’re a little rough around the edges compared to the Disney princesses.”

“I’ll try not to take offense to that,” you joked, “but I was a little girl once; y’know that, right?” You picked the lock on the house and led the brothers inside. 

It was completely quiet, and you and the Winchesters wordlessly decided to split up. 

You moved toward the kitchen, and someone inside apparently heard you. 

“Help! I'm in here!” a voice called. 

“Shh, shh, hey!” you said, rushing into the kitchen. There was a teenage girl handcuffed to the oven. You immediately set to work picking the lock on the cuffs. “It’s okay, I got you,” you told her. 

The girl was crying, and her blonde hair was a complete mess. “You have to help me. She's a lunatic.”

“What happened?” you asked quietly.

“My step mom, she just freaked out, screamed at me, beat me. Chained me up,” she explained, sniffling.

“Where is she now?” you asked. 

“I don't know.”

You looked up at a shadow behind you to see the little girl with dark hair peeking out from behind the kitchen door. When she noticed you saw her, she turned and left. 

You turned back to the teenager and told her you’d be right back, and she nodded. 

You walked into the living room, and the little girl was gone. 

Discouraged, you turned around to go back to the kitchen. Surprisingly, the girl was standing just behind you. 

“Who are you?” you asked. 

She said nothing, simply looking at you with sad eyes, and then she disappeared again. You looked down where she stood to find a red apple. “Hi, Snow.”

***

You sat on the hood of the Impala next to Dean, who played with the apple. Sam headed up to you with his hands in his pockets. “Paramedics picked up Cinderella,” he said. 

“That's good,” Dean said. He tossed the apple to Sam. 

“So, looks like my Snow White theory checks out,” you noted. 

“Snow White? Ah, I saw that movie. Or the porn version anyway; 'cause there was this wicked stepmother? Woo, she was wicked,” Dean grinned. 

You lightly slapped his shoulder and gave a warning glare. “There is an evil stepmother. And she tries to kill Snow White with a poison apple. But the apple doesn’t kill her; she just falls into a deep sleep. So it’s like she’s dead.”

Sam tossed the apple to you, and you took out your knife. You sliced a piece of the apple off, and the apple began to ooze an acid-like fluid into your hand. You threw it to the ground, mumbling, “Gross.”

***

Once back at the hospital, the nurse informed you there were no comatose little girls. All of their comatose patients were either old men or Callie, who was around sixteen years old. 

“Yeah, it's so sad,” the nurse explained. “And poor Dr. Garrison, he just… won't give up on her.”

“Is Callie one of his patients?” Sam asked. 

She shook her head. “No. His daughter.”

Exchanging a brief glance with Sam, you and the Winchesters politely thanked the nurse before heading to Callie’s room. Sadly, you looked on as Dr. Garrison read a book to his daughter. 

Squinting at the book, you were able to make out the book he was reading to her was Little Red Riding Hood.

Dr. Garrison then noticed you were there and stepped outside the room to talk to you. “Detectives. Can I help you?”

“We just... heard that Callie is your daughter,” Dean said.

“And we wanted to say how very sorry we are,” Sam finished. 

Dr. Garrison cleared his throat. “Well, uh. Thank you. If you'll excuse me.”

“Oh, heading this way?” Dean quirked a brow. “We'll walk with you. How long's Callie been like that?”

“We don't mean to intrude,” you clarified. 

“We can't possibly understand how hard it must be for you seeing her like this,” Sam added. 

The doctor sighed. “It's not easy. She's uh, been here since she was eight years old.”

“That's when she was poisoned?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah. Swallowed, uh, bleach,” he explained. “Never figured out how she got her hands on the bottle. My wife found her, uh, brought her to the ER here and I was on call.”

“Your wife was uh, was that Callie's stepmother?” Dean asked. 

Dr. Garrison stopped walking and looked at Dean strangely. “Actually, yes. How'd you know that?”

The older brother shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

“Well, Julie was the only mother that uh, Callie ever knew. My wife passed away last year and, uh… it's just my daughter and me now.” He paused for a moment, becoming quite choked up. “She's all I've got left. Um, excuse me. I've gotta get back to work.”

You watched as the doctor moved down the hall, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. 

Sam tapped you to turn you around and led you and Dean back down the hall. 

“Well, you're right. It's Snow White in spades,” Dean said to you. “Yep. Step-mom poisons the girl, puts her into a deep sleep. What's the motive, you think?” 

“Could be like Mischa Barton. Sixth Sense, not the O.C.,” Dean corrected himself.

Sam seemed confused. “What?”

“Hey, you know fairy tales, I know movies,” Dean commented. “She played the pasty ghost. You know the, uh, remember the mom had that thing you know, where you keep the kid sick so you get all the attention?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, uh, Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy. Huh, could be.”

“So, say all these years, Callie's been suffering silently because nobody knows the truth about what mommy dearest did?”

“And after all this time her spirit just gets angrier and angrier, until it finally just starts lashing out.”

“I’d be pretty pissed to if I was sixteen and still having to listen to my dad read me fuckin’ fairytales,” you added. “It's enough to drive anybody nuts.”

“Okay, but how are we gonna stop her?” Sam questioned. “I mean, Callie's stuck here; her father's keeping her body alive.”

“It does make it a bit hard to burn the bones,” Dean mumbled.

“Ya think?” you deadpanned. 

“Coming in!” Someone called from the double doors across the hall from you. You watched as EMTs rushed an old woman in on a stretcher. “Seventy-two year old female, sustained multiple lacerations and puncture wounds. BP is eighty over forty and falling. Sinus tachycardia.”

“Is that a bite?” a doctor asked. 

“Looks like she was mauled by a mad dog or, maybe a wolf?”

“What was the last story Dr. Garrison was reading Callie?” Dean asked rhetorically. 

You answered anyway. “Good ole Little Red.”

***

The three of you hung around asking the EMTs and policemen that had responded to the scene questions after the grandmother had been pronounced dead. You found out from the policemen that the woman had a granddaughter. 

“I’ll stay here,” you told the boys in a hushed voice. “You two go stop the Big Bad Wolf.” You handed the paper with the address of the granddaughter’s home on it over to Dean, who nodded. 

“What about you?” Sam asked. 

“I’m gonna try to stop Callie,” you said. 

Both boys seemed to understand what you meant, even though you weren’t quite sure how to handle this properly yourself. 

You immediately set to work searching the corridors for Dr. Garrison. Finally, you found him. “Hi! I need to speak with you,” you announced, approaching him. 

“Detective. What can I do for you?” he asked. 

“There’s no easy way to say this, but it’s about Callie,” you said sheepishly. 

“My daughter? What about her?” The doctor furrowed his brows at you. 

“What happened to Callie wasn’t an accident,” you explained. “And Callie’s been trying to tell you that.”

“I don’t have time for this. Stay the hell away from me and my daughter.” Dr. Garrison stormed away from you and toward Callie’s room. 

You followed, hot on his heels. “Think about it, man, how’d she get her hands on the bleach? Why would she drink so much of something like that?” You slipped into the room behind the doctor as he reached for the phone on the wall. 

“I’m calling security.”

You clamped your hand over the phone to stop him. “Nope. You’re smart. Think about it. If you don’t listen to me, Callie’s gonna hurt somebody else.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” the doctor cried. 

“You're gonna think I'm crazy,” you sighed, “but just understand me. Your daughter Callie is still here. She's a spirit.”

Dr. Garrison’s panic suddenly calmed, and he turned to his daughter’s bed sadly. “So you've seen her too.”

You were shocked. “Wait, you called me a lunatic, and you’ve been seeing her, too?”

“I sensed her,” Dr. Garrison sniffed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Callie. Her presence, her scent. I even saw her standing at the foot of my bed but I never believed it, I thought I was dreaming, I—” 

You shook your head. “Not a dream. She looks like she did when she was eight, right? She’s been trying to talk to you.” Dr. Garrison sighed. “You're not a cop are you?”

You shook your head again, pursing your lips together. 

“Then, who are you?”

“Meh, I know a thing or two about this stuff,” you shrugged. “And I also know that your wife was the one to do this to Callie.”

“And how the hell would you know that?!”

“Because Callie told me,” you replied simply. “What?!” Dr. Garrison exclaimed. “My wife loved Callie. So how is— how is that possible?”

“I don’t know. But it is,” you said. 

He got up from the bed and began to pace. “No. No I— I don't believe you.”

“Look, dude, believe whatever you want. But your daughter’s pissed. And rightfully so. Nobody’s listening to her. Listen to your damn daughter.”

Dr. Garrison took a deep breath, then nodded. “Callie? Callie, it's Daddy,” he called into the room. “It's me, Daddy. Is it true? Mommy did that to you? I–I know I wasn't listening before, but I'm listening now. Daddy's here. Please honey, is– is there any way that you can tell me?” 

The doctor looked back at you, and you nodded to the space beside him where Callie’s spirit stood.

Dr. Garrison turned, and tears immediately flooded his eyes at the sight of his child. “Is it true?”

Callie’s spirit nodded.

“Oh— I'm so sorry, baby. But listen to me,” Dr. Garrison begged through his tears. “You gotta stop what you're doing, okay? You're hurting people. I know everything now. I know the truth. It's time for you to let go. It's time for me to let you go.” He turned back to the body in the hospital bed. The doctor leaned down to the girl and caressed her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he cried. 

Callie’s monitor flatlined. 

***

That night, as Dean slept soundly in your shared bed, you were sat at the table by the window; the journal in front of you only illuminated by the moonlight. 

You paperclipped the sketch you’d done for the surviving construction worker of the man who’d attacked him and his brothers into your journal next to the spot where you wrote your latest excerpt. 

“As much as I hate to admit it,” you inked, “some part of me believes everything happens for a reason. I’m not big on the whole ‘faith’ thing, but I’ve always thought that. And I can’t help but wonder if Callie’s case is, like, some sort of astral allegory to my situation with Dean. Maybe I’m supposed to let him go. Maybe he was just supposed to be with me for a short time, and I’m supposed to just move on.

“And that fucking sucks. And I can’t accept that. It’s weird; a lot of the cases I work parallel my actual life. And I frequently try to ignore that fact. But this one is really just beating me over the head with possible ‘hidden meaning.’ 

“But then, I think, if everything happens for a reason, and nothing is coincidence, then somebody’s gotta be pulling the strings here, right? Some sort of fucked-up cosmic being is using my life for his twisted entertainment. It’s using Dean going to hell for the sake of a good fucking storyline or something stupid like that. I don’t understand. I thought ‘god’s plan’ was supposed to be good? I thought he had ‘intentions to prosper us, never to harm us’?

“Anyway. I feel like I’ve thoroughly hashed out my feelings on religion too many times before. At this point, I’m completely over the concept of god. If he is real, I hope he fucking chokes.”

You put your pen down when a blinding light abruptly hit the corner of your eye. You opened the curtains a little more to see the Impala beginning to move out of the parking lot. 

Sam had driven you and Dean back from the hospital, and he brought the keys with him to his room. You assumed that was no accident. 

“What are you doing, Samuel,” you muttered, staring after the car.

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