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thebiggerbear · 4 months

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Dean Winchester x Reader - Prompt Response - "I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Summary: You and Dean refuse to speak to one another after an argument and Sam has finally had enough.

A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). I loved writing this but I always love it when it comes to Dean. 😊 And of course, I couldn't resist when it came to Sam in the end. Brothers, gotta love 'em. ;)

Thank you to my beta Em for her services. You rock, girl!

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader; Dean Winchester x Female!Huntress!Reader

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Warnings: mentions of implied sex

Word Count: 1449

Dean Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Dean snuck a glance at you only to quickly look away when you looked up from your lore book. In return, you snuck a peek at him but pretended you were looking at something else when he lifted his head from one of the hunter’s journals he’d found in storage.

Sam had watched this infuriating dance happen at least twelve times by now and it was getting on his last nerve. At first, he thought it was hopeful. Then heartbreaking. Now it was just damn aggravating, more so because he knew his older brother was being his usual stubborn self. All he needed to do was come out and apologize already, and Dean knew that yet still refused to budge an inch.

You and Dean had gotten into an argument during the last hunt. He’d been upset that you had taken on three vamps by yourself—something you had done back in your high school days, along with killing other creepy things that slithered out of the dark. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, which you had proven multiple times, and you knew when to ask for help. Dean didn’t want to hear it, claiming you could have been killed had he and Sam not been close by. You both dug in your heels no matter what Sam said, and you two were still at an impasse, giving each other the silent treatment. Still, that didn’t stop the longing glances Dean gave you when you weren’t looking, or the sad looks you gave him when he was none the wiser. It was driving Sam nuts. He had never met two people who were so stubborn—aside from his parents, of course—and now that he thought about it, stubborn or not, you and Dean were well-suited for one another.

“You know,” Sam broke the silence. “At some point, you two are going to have to talk to each other again.”

Dean shot him a surreptitious glare. You had no problem offering a withering glare of your own.

“Look,” Sam continued. “Y/N is right, she can take care of herself and if she needs our help, she’ll say something.” At your triumphant smile, Dean’s gaze darkened.

“No one asked you to butt in, Sammy,” he warned.

Sam nearly rolled his eyes. “If I don’t, this won’t get resolved because you both are too hard-headed to make the first move. Y/N,” Your eyes darted over to him. “My idiot brother won’t say it but the reason he got upset is because he’s scared.”

Dean’s free hand clenched into a fist and he gave a subtle shake of his head. Sam ignored him and continued, “He’s scared something is going to happen to you and he won’t be there to stop it. That’s why he freaked out that night. He’s not trying to tell you what to do or be a controlling jerk. He just wants you to be safe, that’s all.”

You bit your lip and turned your attention to Dean, who suddenly seemed very interested in the book in his lap. “Is that true?”

After a moment, he ground out, “Yeah. It’s true.”

You stood up, letting the book in your own lap fall to the ground with a heavy thud, and made your way over to Dean. You ripped the book out of his hands, tossed it to the floor, ignored Sam’s irritation at your carelessness with such old tomes, and crawled into Dean’s lap, his hands instantly coming around you to support you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned down to kiss him. You felt him immediately begin to relax under your touch and only when his lips were completely pliant and moving with yours did you pull back, staring into his green eyes.

“Why couldn’t you just tell me that?”

He slid his hand up your back and to your hair, tenderly rubbing the strands between his fingers. “I don’t know. I just… That vamp had you in a hold and it scared the crap out of me when I couldn’t reach you fast enough. What if he had gotten more of a drop on you? What if—”

You gently placed your fingers against his lips, stopping him from finishing that question. “He didn’t. I killed my first vamp at 12, took out my first nest when I was 16. Hunting’s in my blood just as much as it is yours. I know what I’m doing.” You ran your fingers through his hair reassuringly, scratching at his scalp, and watched him lean into the touch. “But if you want, we can talk about it. We’ll come up with a plan that makes you feel better and works for both of us. Okay?”

He gave you a dopey smile that melted your heart. The magic touch had worked; the tension from before had finally lifted. “Okay, baby. Sounds good to me.”

You kissed him again, this time with a little more passion. “You know what else sounds good?” You murmured to his lips when you both needed a breath.

Those green eyes you loved so much immediately lit with an all-too familiar fire. “Do tell.”

You leaned in and whispered your plan into his ear, making sure Sam wouldn’t overhear. By the time you pulled back, he was grinning like crazy. Clearing his throat, he helped you off of his lap and back onto your feet as you both turned to face Sam, a mischievous smirk fighting its way onto your face. You knew that would get him going.

“Actually, I just remembered I left the…stove on in the kitchen. And Y/N here has to go call Jody to…give her an update on the case and how it’s going.”

Sam gave you both a look; he wasn’t buying it. You turned and gave the same look to Dean. He really hadn’t come up with anything better than that? “I hate you.”

“You have a weird way of showing that,” he teased, subtly rubbing up against you and smirking. This man was so lucky you loved him.

You shook your head and looked away, your cheeks growing hot. The bastard was turning you on even more and he knew it. It’d been almost two weeks, the longest you’d gone without since — well, since meeting him.

Sam was the one to clear his throat this time. “Whatever. Happy you both are talking to one another again. Now, go do what you’re going to do but just not in front of me, please. Okay? And you’re welcome.”

Dean shot Sam a look but he was too happy to care what Sam was intimating about his being the one who settled things between the two of you. He gave his younger brother a wide smile. “If you need us, we’ll be…” He trailed off, gesturing to the hallway that led to the rooms.

“Oh my God,” you muttered in embarrassment as you grabbed his hand and pulled him after you.

“Oh, hey!” Sam yelled. “Keep out of my room this time, Dean. I mean it!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean called back.

You had just turned the corner when Dean immediately had you up against the wall, kissing you passionately and picking you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. When you pulled back for air, your brow furrowed in confusion at seeing Dean move past his door. “Dean,” you panted. “Where are you going? You just passed your room.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

“Okay, then where are you taking me?”

His smirk was so wicked you knew what the answer was before he said it. “Sammy’s room.”

“Dean, are you kidding me? No!”

“Relax, we won’t be in there long.”

“You know how upset he was last time and he just said—”

Dean came to a stop and kissed the crap out of you, effectively silencing you. You may have been a little dazed when he finally let you get some air. “He’s got the better bed and I want the very best for you, baby.” He then gave you a salacious smirk and leaned in. “Plus I know how much you love that headboard.”

He waggled his eyebrows at you as certain memories replayed in your mind. You were able to hold onto that headboard for a long time, it held you up well, and same for Dean…oh shit. Sorry, Sam.

“What are you waiting for?” You bit out impatiently, slipping your tongue into his mouth and swallowing his chuckle. As he walked you into Sam’s room, shutting and locking the door behind him, you made a mental note to later google the hell out of this headboard and find one for Dean’s bed.

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idesofrevolution · 16 days

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The Journey of Dr. Santana Fabrega

There's nothing quite like your bro slobberin' over your sweaty feet while tokin' on a hookah. Let me just tell you- everybody's happy. I'm stoked to be stoned and minty fresh, and he's happy to taste my ripe size 12's. Who isn't the happiest? The folks. Sure, I dropped out of college, sure I started focusing one hundred percent on my art, sure I have a parade of guys out of my little basement lair... but I never got why they had to be such fuckin' buzzkills.

Ever since they joined that church when I was at uni, my parents have been sucked into the Evangelical cult. Not the whole lifting your hands up to Jesus & speaking in tongues sort of church, by the way. Man, they're out there with picket signs at sex clinics, bannin' books at the high school, all that crazy fuckin' Christian Nation bullshit. They're my parents, so I love 'em and whatever. But fuck, those psychos really fucked 'em up. So now, their crusade is "curing" me of my gayness. Didn't really matter that I'm pan, they don't really know the difference. They don't really care about the difference, though. Not straight, not right.

So when they caught me the other day with Sam cleanin' my dick in the basement, it was World War 3. Man, a Nuclear Bomb would have less energy than my mom's hysterical shrieking. It's Florida, so it's nothing the neighbors haven't heard before. But, shit. I thought my eardrums were gonna pop. They stomped off upstairs, bein' all 'we are going to talk about this later, Santiago.' So, I let Sammy finish up, I pulled on some shorts and I went upstairs to face the fire while he snuck out the basement window. Fuck, I wished I were him.

The 'family meeting' went about as well as you'd expect. Threats of burning in hell for all eternity, demands that I find the Lord, etc. Apparently he doesn't like a lot of things about me: my weed, my tattoos, my sexuality, my piercings, my hair for some reason? I don't know man, I just tuned out after a while. What I did catch, though, they were sending me to substance abuse counseling. Couldn't help but laugh, and that sent dad through the fuckin' roof.

"Doctor Fabrega is going to teach you some manners, young man. Make you a Godly man, like you should be." Yada yada yada. He should have known better than to give me the doc's name. After the ass reaming, I made my way back downstairs to the computer. It took five minutes of research to find this Doctor Fabrega. Turns out he's a Christian Therapist, but that wasn't what was most interesting. Down in his specializations, buried beneath substance abuse & cognitive behavioral therapy was a word that caught my eye: licensed Hypnotherapist.

I knew exactly what kind of bullshit they were tryin' to pull on me. But when I was enrolled at U Miami, my major was Psychology. Not only that, but I still happened to have access to the university library. Oops.

I texted Sammy, knowing I was gonna be up all night doing research, and that my dick would need some appropriate attention under the desk. I was gonna show this motherfucker just how sick it really is to be like me.

---

The waiting room was bullshit. Cold white walls, bright wood floors... It looked straight out of an IKEA ad. I'd already been there for like 20 minutes past my appointment time, giving me just enough time to scroll through the last chapter on my phone. I hear the receptionist call out my name, and I head toward the office. Just as bullshit as the waiting room. It's like the guy wants to live in a psych ward- no color anywhere. At least get a blacklight or something.

"Santiago Rivera. Welcome, I'm Dr. Fabrega." The guy was hot as fuck, not gonna lie. Looked like he was straight out of Sao Paulo- even with the fancy suit you can't hide muscle like that. "Please, sit. It's so good to meet you." His voice was so weird. Speaking every word with like, perfect diction. You know those AI voices that talk that way? That's what it was like, as if he were trying so hard to hide an accent underneath.

"Just call me Santi, doc." I plopped down on the leather chair, might have put my feet up on his coffee table (don't recall), and he just looked at me like he was looking in a microscope. No idea what the deal was. He walked over to the couch and sat down with my file and started to drone on.

"Alright, Santi, it says here that your parents are pretty concerned about your behavior lately. You're 23 years old and a college dropout, you take illicit drugs, you have no job, and you're having unnatural thoughts. That's quite the list, bud." He was so fuckin smug, that sort of punchable glibness that only comes from a particular kind of self righteousness. Like Jesus himself came down and kissed them.

"So, first off. I did drop out of college, because I couldn't afford it. Second, I sure the fuck do smoke green because it's a) fun, and b) prescribed to me by my real doctor. Third, I do have a job. I do graphic design and graffiti art and I pay my own bills with it. And last off, yup: I fucked him." He sat there, somehow shocked that I told him how it was right off the bat. I'm not playing his little game, and that made him angry.

"I see. So you have no remorse for any of this? I believe your parents are very right to be concerned about where your life is headed."

"Fascinating, considering I'm moving out at the end of the month and they won't need to deal with my life. So. You married?" He was thrown off by that, just as I'd hoped. Right out of the blue. Knocks them off kilter for a second. An easy question to answer, so they usually do.

"Uh, well, no I'm not married. Is that your concern in all this?" Man, I couldn't help but laugh. He's trying to be sarcastic?

"Where did ya go to school for... whatever this is." This made him close my file, he even put it on the table and crossed his arms.

"I went to Liberty University, top of my class in their Doctor of Psychology program. You, it seems didn't make it that far, so you might not know what 'this' is." Oooh, he's big mad. I thought, let's push it. I did what most of my guys love, but would piss him off, I kicked off the Vans. Made sure I wore my skating shoes that day, the super ripe ones with the same damp socks. When they came off, those puppies let their presence be known.

"Sounds boring. Boring then, boring now. I got accepted into the Art Institute in Savannah, so I'll be headed that way soon. Be legit soon, then you wouldn't have anything to say. How's your sex life?" He thought he was so tough, not flinching at the musk, nor my question. But I knew both hit him right where I wanted. The question to make him mad, the stink to get him hot.

"Santiago, I think we should continue with our session. You can put your shoes back on and we can try some exercises to help you think a bit more clearly." I crossed my ankles, wriggling my toes a bit.

"I think they need some air. Are you gonna try and hypnotize me now? Or is that the last ditch effort when everything else fails?" He leaned back in his seat, the grimace growing stronger. "That stuff is not that hard to master. A couple days really and you got it down."

"Is that so?" He ground his teeth as he spat out his words. "It seems you know all there is to know, then." Time to hit it home.

"You know what, let's put money on it, doc. Hundred bucks says I can put you under." I got him, his eyebrow shifted just enough for me to see.

"This isn't a casino, Santiago. I don't bet money on client's health." I couldn't help but smirk. He left an opening I couldn't pass up.

"Aight, no money then. If I put you under, I get the bragging rights. If I don't, I'll play your stupid games. Win-win for you, nothing to lose but your dignity." Hook, line and sinker; he leaned in, grabbing the remote on the table next to him. He tapped a button, and the shades started to come down.

"Well then, Mr. Rivera. I wish you luck."

The room got dark. Really fuckin' dark. Fabrega hit another button on the remote, and a cool blue washed over the room. Gotta say, tight LED system. I kicked my shoes off the table, and scooted my chair forward. Showtime.

"Alright, Santana, I want you to just take deep breaths." He squirmed at my use of his first name, one last dig before I brain fucked him. He took his deep breaths one at a time, slowly getting deeper and deeper. "As I count down from one to ten, each number will bring you closer and closer to relaxation. Picture a long tunnel, at the end, a bright white light. With every number, you take a step forward to the light, do you understand?"

He nodded, it was an induction I'd made up this morning. I started from 10, telling him his first step he could feel the tingling relaxation in the tips of his fingers, slowly crawling up his hands and forearms. 9. Another step, the tingling creeps up his big muscly arms and shoulders. 8. One more step, the tingling is pushing up his neck and throat, reaching his tongue and teeth. 7. The tingling bursts into his head, a paradoxical rush of relaxation, a fog of dissonance washes over his brain as thoughts collide and crash about. 6. The tingling washes down his spine, flowing through his nerves into every part of his body. His body feels electric, a painless jolt running throughout him. I watched as he tensed up, his big muscles contracting and bunching him up. It was working.

We get to 5, starting at the crown of his head, the volts decrease, turning lugubrious and liquified like molasses sloshing about in his head. 4. The light is so close he can feel the heat, but his body is cooled as the syrupy fluid flows down over him like a waterfall, pooling in his big feet as it fills every crevice. 3. It feels as if he's trudging through mud toward the light, his legs feeling wobbly and gelatinous. 2. So close, his whole body feels like a massless blob, inching toward the final drop into the cavernous light. 1. He crawls toward the ledge, plummeting down into the endless void of bright white light. There, he will sit as I have a little bit of fun.

"Alright, Santana. Can you hear me in there?" Fabrega nods, expressionless. Fuck, that was maybe a 80/20 chance I was gonna fuck this shit up so bad. But I guess God really is on my side here. "Whenever I ask a question, you will answer truthfully. Whatever I say you will incorporate into your life. Now, Santana, what do you do when you're not at work?" His lips moved slowly and replied in monotone.

"I go to the gym, I go to the golf course, I hire my date, and I go home." Ooooh shit. He's giving my friends on the corners a decent living, good for him. Hardly a Godly thing to do. Either way, it was a perfect place to start.

"You love going to the gym, don't you, Santana?" He nodded. "You love gettin' all sweaty don't you?" His head began to shake, his expression furrowing a bit in disgust. "No, Santana. You love getting all sweaty. The feeling of those cool droplets on your hot muscles during a hard workout? Doesn't it feel good?" He pauses, before reluctantly nodding. Ahh I love gettin my fingers in his brain, never ceases to please. "You love that funk that comes off your sweat, Santana. You love sniffin your pits, your big feet, your balls... That musk means you're workin' hard. Keeping in shape. Staying virile. Isn't that right?" He nodded, squirming in the chair. I watched his body try to reject the instructions, try to rebel, but just one repetition had his back to stillness.

"You don't even like golf, do you?" He nodded, I didn't even need to manipulate him. "You much prefer hitting the beach, don't you? Seein' all the guys and gals starin' at your glorious bod... You love it, don't you?" He nodded, the side of his lip curling ever so slightly. "You love bringing out the speedo, letting the goods hang low, letting the buns bulge... you know they all wanna see it anyway..." He nodded again, it was like taking candy from a baby. The guy had the mental fortitude of a frog.

"You like fucking, too. You can have any girl or guy on the street with a single wink." He nodded, and I couldn't help but watch as his groin started to bulge. "Yeah, boy. You love taking that horse cock and plowing it into some ass... plowing it into some pussy... fucking their pretty little mouths..." Drool started to drip from the corner of his lip, and a little wet spot quickly appeared on his pants. "You're a freak, aren't you, Santana? You like fuckin' in the car, in the sauna, at the gym, under the desk... gushing gallons into them while you shove your sneaker on their face." He was moaning, slowly grinding against the open air. Can't lie, I was gropin' myself a bit just watching him.

"Now, Santana. I'm going to bring you back to your office, but when I do, you are going to be super laid back and chill with Santi during your sessions. If he says the word 'sniff' you will return to this space, return to an open mind, just as we have done here today. Do you understand?" He nodded one final time before I began his emergence. Counting back from one to ten, I watched as he slowly came back to the real world, and with one snap, he blinked his eyes and wiped his brow.

"Well, doc. I got the bragging rights." Fabrega pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache. Time to see if it had all paid off.

"Uhh... yeah... Santi. You got me there..." Perfect. He pulled his hand away from his nose, clicking the shades back up to their little hole. It didn't take long until he saw the wet patch on his bulbous package. He chuckled under his breath. "You'll have to excuse the mess, Santi... I have hyperspermia, so sometimes it all just flows out." Hot- and totally unprofessional. Just how I like 'em. I leaned back in my chair, smirkin' the whole way.

"Damn, doc. Firehose down there. Gonna have to show me sometime." He smirked and waved me off.

"I don't fraternize with clients, Santi. Oh, look at the time. I'm late for my 5:30. Alright, I'll see you next week." He stood up, extending his hand, his whole demeanor entirely changed. I slipped my Vans back on, spitting on my hand before gripping his. He shuddered a bit, sure. But we were gonna get real close, real quick.

---

The next few days flew by. My folks were so excited to see that I was looking forward to seeing Dr. Fabrega, and I loved knowing what they didn't. I was excited to see if Dr. Fabrega was gonna be Santana. So when I finally got back in for my appointment, I didn't need to wait long at all. Only five minutes and the door swung open, the receptionist completely flustered. The anticipation was killing me. She sat down behind her computer with tunnel vision and I walked into the office.

At first, I thought it was empty. He wasn't sitting at his desk, on the couch... but as I heard huffing from the balcony, I knew where to find him. I walked up to the sliding glass door, and turned outside to see one hell of a sight.

It was Santana. Nothing on but his whitie-tighties and his damp socks doing pushups on the bench. Fuck, those muscles were glistening in the light, his underwear with damp patches on his ass and bulge. His clothes sat in a pile near his head: jeans, a Miami Heat jersey, some sick dunks I wanted to steal... far from the stuffy suit he had on just the week before. He finally noticed me, and smiled.

"Santi! Hey! Just finishing up my lunch workout. Thought I'd get a session in today on the balcony. Damn, the fresh air is good for exercise!" I smirked. It was night and day. So far, gone was the bible thumping hypocrite, and here was what was underneath. If anything I was doing him a service.

"Shit, Santana! You're looking prime today. You gonna funk out our session today, or?" I punched him in the shoulder, and he giggled like a kid.

"It's eau naturale, my friend. Natural water. That's what it smells like." He slipped on his jeans and his big fuckin' sneakers, tossing the jersey over his head while we walked in. He trailed some deliciously ripe musk, and I couldn't help but savor a bit of it. We plopped down on our seats, and just started shootin' shit. I bitched about the parents, he bitched about his receptionist, I told him about Sammy suckin' my dick clean, and he told me about the threesome with a gym bro and his girlfriend. He was coming along beautifully. Though, I thought to myself, how's about a round two?

"Dude, by the way, those kicks are fuckin' tight." I pointed to the dunks, which he smugly kicked up onto the coffee table, showing them off.

"Thanks, man. They're the lifting shoes. My work boots, heh." I reached out, grabbing ahold of his foot, and yanked it off. He chuckled like a fuckin' idiot while I looked at 'em. Size 13, nice and big- and the smell wafting out of there... Fuck, man.

"Damn, dude you never wash your socks? These stink!" I playfully tossed the shoe at him, and just as he started to brush off the comment, I said my magic word. "Sniff it." Like a flipped lightswitch, his expression turned numb, slowly bringing the shoe to his nose and inhaling his own musk. I clapped my hands, rubbing them together: let's do a little more programming.

"Santana, You're a pretty chill guy, you know that?" He nodded. "You smoke, don't you? You know, the good shit?" Deep in his mind, he had to know it was me talking at this point, so I was talking to him like a bro. Establishes trust, ya know? He shook his head no. "Ahh, come on man. You love kickin' back and toking on that reefer after a long workout." Santana chuckled a bit, before nodding, still nose deep in his sneaker. "Yeah, you love smokin' out your bros, your babes... when you're not shootin' tequila!" He full out laughed on that one, nodding along. The sneaker slowly dropped from his hand, and he laid back in his chair.

"How old are you, Santana?"

"28." Shit, he was only a few years older than me. I mean, he looked young. But hell, you wouldn't have known it from the way he acted.

"Where are you from?" "Rio de Janeiro." Interesting. I clocked the accent. I was pretty proud of myself.

"Why do you try so hard to hide it? The way you talk, the way you dress, the way you act... You act like you're from Ohio." Another chuckle, I should have had a Netflix special. "You're gonna embrace that Brazilian pride, bro. Don't hide it for some mayo drinking buzzkills!" He furrowed his brow, nodding intently. This one was for his own fuckin' good. Be proud of that shit! "You should get some ink to really embrace it. Nothin' sexier than a tatted up stud, am I right?" He nodded again, his bulge once more springing to life. I smirked, simply wanting to know a little something somethin'.

"Do you think Santi is hot?" He sat there for a second, before slowly smiling and nodding. I didn't even need to program that one. Aww, big old himbo. "You're not afraid to let him know, are ya? I mean if you tell his crazy fuckin' parents that he's cured... He wouldn't be your patient anymore... Right?" His bulge twitched again, and he smirked devilishly as he nodded. "You like it when he's all up in your brain, don't you? You like it when he gets his dick deep in there and mind fucks you into a chill, laid back stud. Don't ya?" The dampness grew and his breath got heavy. He nodded, drooling down the sides of his cheeks. "Yeah, you wanna let him in completely, don't ya? Make you like him?" Moans grew, and his thrusting in the air quickened pace. "You wanna be best bros with him, don't ya? Bros with benefits... hangin' out, smokin' weed, hittin' the clubs, swappin' spit... swappin' cum... swappin' subs..." He started fuckin' howl. He was beggin' to splurge. "When I tell you, you will cum. And when you do, everything we talked about will be your truth. Now... Cum."

His eyes opened, still moaning loudly. He gripped onto his jeans, pulling down the waistband and underwear, that big old uncut donkey dick flopping out before shooting his load all over himself. Volley after volley. He wasn't kidding about the hyperspermia: maybe four double shots of his spunk sprayed like a geyser into the air. The 8th Natural Wonder of the World. He laid back and chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head.

"Fuck, brother!" The thickest accent flowed of those lips, deliciously thick. "After today, that'll be down your throat, cara." He pointed at me, hopping to his feet and shoving his python back into his pants. "So, I'll write your discharge papers, it'll get the pais off your back. Act the part until you're out, and just go live." Fuck yeah, we high fived, and I ruffled that sweaty mullet of his. "Hey, come over tonight. I got some friends comin' over... if you and Sammy wanna join." He winked and slapped my back. Damn, I did good.

"I'll be there, man! You save me a round so I can show you how to clean this dick." I groped my bulge, smirking as his bit his lip and winked. I've created a monster.

---

"Ei, sexy! Come get a toke before it's gone!" Such a demanding little bitch, I love him. I slipped his filled condom off my cock, the kinky fucker insisted, and I happily complied. If I'm being real, this psycho has taught me things! I flushed it down the toilet, and swung the bathroom door open to see him lounging on his bed, toking away at the blunt I packed.

"Hey you fuckin' hog, don't you smoke it all!" He chuckled dumbly, reaching over to hand me the blunt, taking the opportunity to snatch my wrist and pull me forward into a kiss. Fuck those lips were so good, pressed against mine or around my cock. "Isn't Carrie coming over soon? You gonna be able to get off so quick?" I pushed away, taking my puff.

"Ahh, plenty to go around, eh?" He groped that musky bulge that I had a feeling Sammy would be huffing later. "Ey, bring me my pants. We can go get a shot before she gets here." Heh, the last month or so crashing with him has been fuckin' sick. The folks think I'm rooming with some guy from the church, when really I'm gooning with my therapist every night in his bed. Savannah is letting me take online courses, I'll have my B.A. in a couple of years, and I'm already getting some gallery hits. Santana is gonna be my armcandy for the opening, and I told him to forget his deodorant. Fuck he’s perfect. But a thought had crept in my head the other day. One last program, one final idea planted in his head... Though, at this point, there was no need to put him under. I'd just ask him.

"Hey, so I gotta go to Georgia to finish up some paperwork at the school. It got me thinking... I'm followin' my dream. What about you?" I tossed him his pants and passed the blunt, taking a deep whiff of those ripe dunks before throwing them his way too.

"I could go back to the practice, though I think the bible thumpers would lose their minds, heh."

"Well... What we did for eachother... What if you did it for others?" I slowly got down to my knees, a smirk crawling across my face. "What if you could help those poor... misguided young men change their lives?" I crawled toward him, spreading his legs wide as I tossed his legs over my shoulders. "Wouldn't that be so... so... fun?" I slowly pulled down his musky briefs, releasing his monstrous cock again, the musky hooded beast slapping me on my cheek. "Then, we could have so... many... new.. friends..." I pulled down his slimy hood and wrapped my lips around his tip. I should have known better. His hand grabbed the back of my head, slamming it down onto his spear, my nose buried in his bush as he thrust back and forth into my mouth.

"Unff... Yeah, brother... Oh yeah... That sounds like a good... unhhhhh... good idea." Grunting, slapping, moaning, slurping... it all rang out in his room, until he gushed another thick load down my throat. "You wanna join me?" And in that moment, I smiled. It was the best idea he'd had yet.

#original #hypnosis #mind control #himbo #bisexual #transformation #male hypnosis #male transformation #stoner #cannabis #musk #footplay #switch #male reprogramming

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inkyvendingmachine · 4 months

Text

T'was The Night Before Crisis... Season 4, Episode 1

💀 Call of Cthulhu: Haunted Hijinx Masterpost 💀 Call of Cthulhu Season Four Masterpost (Coming Soon)

Warning: This campaign is an edited version of a Call of Cthulhu scenario from the Tales of the Crescent City book. While a lot has been changed, there IS spoilers for it throughout these posts.

WE'RE BACK. After over a whole heckin year of 10000 RP logs, we have returned with our final season of Cthulhu! It's been not just a year out of game, but a little over a year worth of in game time has passed too, and they boys are indulging in a chill, at home seasonal celebration... for now! Surely nothing weird will happen, nothing ever does around holidays for these boys obviously.

Happy Holidays!

Art Credit: @inkdemonapologist : sketching + inking @inkyvendingmachine : concept + colouring

A week. Two weeks. A month. A season. A year.

A whole year and a couple of months go by without any crazy outside force trying to rid the boys of… anything really. The time isn't exactly calm or empty… but compared to recent events, for a while, things were… kinda normal?

Well, except for when Joey got Peter to help him meet with Y secretly to prevent the gang from continuing to mess with JDS, or when Sammy and Henry realized mid tennis match that a version of Henry had slashed him right through the center. Or how the Prophet can just pop out now without ink. And how Susie has been brought in on all this, and perhaps brought in on even more than just the supernatural content as her bonds with Sammy and Joey grow tighter. And how Peter is actually moving to New York City now and ends up visiting Jack just as Beans goes missing and now there’s many little Beans kittens. And the summoning spell to ask the spirit that helped them in Haiti what will become of Sammy and Prophet. And the other summoning spell for Prophet to get his instructions from the Masked Messenger. And Sammy still can't tell where he's going half the time after uncovering some of Prophet’s memories. And Joey is still a bit hesitant to leave the studio if not being actively distracted. But other than that! It's been normal!!

And the boys have made it all the way to Christmas. Joey's received some parcels in the mail, from the Fowlers and Nicole. The Fowlers actually sent each of the helpful boys uh… 1000$?? That's a thousand. EACH. IN THE 1930s. For helping out… which I guess if stuck eternally in soul lake hell, wouldn't have that money anyways. But still, that's quite a lot for the time.

Meanwhile, Nicole has had time to move on from her heartbreak, and is ready to start a new chapter in her life, and as thanks, leaves Joey both the keys to her old apartment (the lease being paid up for a few years already) and to her previous car, with a guarantee she's giving these things up for better, not to worry about her. And totally not because maybe all the occult scratches and bullet marks in the wall makes the apartment hard to rent, or the fact that her car is an extremely recognized Mercedes, or that both of these assets were hounded by gangs for a bit after her magical mistakes…

It probably is actually all out of good will and appreciation, and these things will come in useful, especially if they do need to deal with more mafia or what have you. Joey doesn't need them tracking Henry's car home to his family or back to Jack's house.

With those gifts out of the way, the actual holiday is spent in Jack's house, with a big potluck meal. This holiday celebration includes a small group of friends and their families, namely, all the people Jack has befriended and also would be okay with the Lurker partying with em. The event goes well, Sammy gets to play through the night, Henry’s children get to hang out with a real Bendy and also a buncha newly grown-up cats, Henry gets to eat as many cookies as he wants…

That… slows down when Henry sees a yellow sign in a ribbon. But as soon as he tries to not lose his entire cool and freak out, it disappears… the ribbon was just a ribbon the entire time. Perhaps golden ribbons shouldn't be their normal holiday decor…

Meanwhile, Peter feels eyes on him and decides to move away from the window maybe, especially because it feels like he suddenly knew exactly which star in the sky holds Carcosa at the same time… surely a fine coincidence to have happened at almost the same time. But nobody else is acting weirdly, sooooo.

The night wraps up, with Susie and Norman heading out first, followed by Henry and his family. Sammy also heads home after being socially exhausted and desperately needing his alone time, and Peter helps Jack clean up some before heading out too. Jack heads to bed, only to find an already asleep Joey with a Spark sprawled on top of him, probably after he “closed his eyes for a moment” a little earlier.

The next day, there's technically work, but it's a short day because what's actually happening is a charity auction and party. A collection of “originals, signed by the creators” has been donated to help raise money for relief efforts in a few warring European countries, as well as the “entertainment” for the evening (Bendy cartoons, of course), courtesy of JDS, which means of course all the stars who signed the auctioned items were invited to the party as well.

Yes, even Sammy.

(And also Jack, Henry, Susie, and Joey of course.)

The event is being held at a yacht club, advertised to the wealthies of the city midst the great depression, with live music playing and glittering evening wear, and uh. Denis.

Y'know, Denis?? That rich guy from NOLA who invited us to the masquerade?? That Joey casually name dropped his legal name to in order to keep him from tracing himself and Sammy back to JDS, when they didn't know who or how dangerous their initial information gathering was.

Anyways, a quick little talking him in circles by Joey corrects that past mistake, as well as gets him the information that Denis is actually related to one of the people who put the entire event together. Ha. Good to know.

Of course it's difficult to shake him afterwards, since Joey is one of the few people Denis knows all the way up in New York. At least Joey actually has a fancy car to talk about now.

Meanwhile, in the quietest, emptiest corner he could find, Sammy notices something odd about the song that's currently being played live. It sounds familiar, and while surely there's been some Bendy music played this evening…. This particular song is not that. But it WAS composed by Sammy.

In NOLA.

When he was improvising with some random music on the street while hanging out on the balcony of his and Joey's hotel room. Properly freaked out by having a song from a very scary time literally come back to haunt him, Sammy runs to find someone, (Joey is still busy with Denis), and comes across Jack first. But before he can fully explain, the entire party is interrupted.

Chatter turns into hushed confusion as some pale man up near the front starts speaking in tongues. It's hard to tell if he's trying to perform some ritual or just incoherently rambling, but it doesn't matter! Because very quickly there’s a gunshot!!

And the Prophet? He's awake. He knows what that gunshot was. He's been waiting for this.

It has begun.

Of course the entire party breaks out in panic once the gun goes off. Joey doesn't know what sort of Eldritch nonsense was happening up front, but upon scanning the crowd and noticing Jack and Sammy together, beelines for the snack table to grab Henry and search for Susie.

As everyone is being rushed out, some of the boys manage to notice that not all of the panic is simply from the mad ramblings and sudden bullet, but also we've got some people in the crowd bleeding from their eyes. How festive!

Upon getting outside, the Yacht club is of course already being surrounded by security and the police, as the sudden gun shots quickly alerted locals to the nonsense going on. Nobody is allowed to bolt until an investigation is conducted and people are questioned, but of course Joey managed to sweet talk his way over to a telephone to make a very important quick phone call.

To one Peter Sunstram!

Turns out, between all their arguments, there are a few things they can agree on, which includes quietly spying on suspicious parties even though they should probably not be doing that if they actually wanna be safe but surely everyone will understand when they find out IT'S FINE.

Anyways Peter’s been keeping an eye on Y, and earlier in the day Y seemed to be performing some ritual before having some kind of … breakthrough? Revelation? Peter had told Joey of it, and in good faith Joey agreed to keep an eye out for WEIRDNESS, hoping that Y was upholding his promise to not be interfering with JDS anymore. But now this episode seems to have specifically happened, right at their exact event for the evening, so Joey does his best to pass along as much info as he can in that moment to Peter. As well as set up a backup plan in case anything else happens to them before they can escape the Yacht Club.

After some interviews with the police though, they’re allowed to go free. Listening to other partygoers' recollections they’re able to pick up a few more names here and there – the one who fired the gun up front by the bandstand is said to be another local gangster by the name of Johnny Nero, and the band playing on that bandstand one Red Leverett and the Jumps – but no evidence that really points the crew in any sort of serious lead. (including more commentary by Denis wHY ARE YOU STILL HERE UR NOT PART OF THE GROUP)

So having managed to collect everyone together, including Prophet returning Sammy to the front for the interview thank the lord (not that one)(not that one either)(maybe that one) the JDS crew head over to their very safe and secure hide away to talk about what just happened: that’s right, they’re going to Peter’s apartment.

And staying there through midnight! Listen, the last time weird shit started happening like this, everything popped off at midnight and there were panics all around. It’d be nice to know where people were this evening. And while they’re all sitting around waiting for that to pass, Henry and Peter can even talk about the really weird things that happened last night! Yknow, where Henry saw the yellow sign for a moment and Peter felt something watching him from space? Those very normal Christmas activities?

The group also gets informed about how Peter maybe has been keeping an eye on the Y that still hangs out in the city, and how Y was excited over some weird ritual. While he goes over that and also Joey and Peter guiltily kinda admit to their secret spying tendencies, Henry gets info from Linda when he calls to explain why he’s not home yet and how he won’t be home for a little while still. She’s remembered some research that crosses over with the prophecies they had gotten a month or so after the last big event like this. And Jack and Sammy bring up how they had been theorizing over who’s and what’s in the prophecies… for instance, that which the Phantom seeks, who bears already the scars of following the Mender’s lead….

Is it Peter? He followed Jack into the weird ghosty world. Is it Joey? He’s followed the Mender in other ways, and also literally bears scars caused from Jack’s healing. Or is it somehow Y?? Who seems… involved in this somehow, despite promising he wouldn’t be fucking around with stuff that might step on JDS’s toes again.

With no real conclusions, but midnight having come and past, people start to head home. Joey has someone drop him off at the studio, as after weirdness happened with any sort of occult stuff he’s interested in checking in on Bendy and the Stone. Since, those tend to be targets for this kinda creepy thing. Bendy is perfectly fine though, and hardly even noticed anything going on… So Joey picks up some of his notes and… finds himself unable to leave the studio. For some reason it just seems like the wrong idea… so he spends all night up researching, unsettled by how many non-leads he has into what will possibly happen next. It’s starting to feel like Haiti again, knowing that something bad is coming but really having no idea where to fortify with this information.

But he does have something new…

He has plenty of things new now, including his dream spell.

Peter’s not the only one who can spy, and while Joey is sure he’d hit some kind of barrier trying to peek in on Y’s dreams… just knowing whether the man was still alive, or possessed by some eldritch nonsense seemed like a good place to start. Maybe his excitement at the ritual earlier was coincidental…

The thing is, defying all reason, Joey’s able to step into Y’s dream just fine somehow.

This is probably not something he’ll regret doing later, surely.

[Next Episode] (not yet released)

#call of cthulhu: haunted hijinx #joey drew #henry stein #sammy lawrence #jack fain #peter sunstram #bendy the lurker #beans the cat

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winchester-reload · 1 year

Text

Pairing: Dean/Cas

Tags: hurt/comfort, canon divergent, idiots in love

Read on AO3

All right, we’re officially outta gauze. We talkin’ about it?”

Cas sighed. His eyes swam along the ceiling, just as they’d been doing the entire evening. Through every stitch and wrap, he wouldn’t bring ’em down. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he said quietly. “It was just bad luck.”

“Uh uh. This ain’t bad luck. Bad luck is what Sammy’s gonna have if I lose you messy on a bad hunt. So how bout you go ahead and try that for me again.”

“It was just supposed to be one mimic—”

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation— You know better than that!”

“Things happen, Dean. Things outside of our control. This was that. Things happened. It was a bad lead, but I made it out. That’s what should matter right now.”

Dean shook his head, tossed an empty gauze roll, now just a cardboard skeleton, and watched it clatter against the tin garbage can. Roll away. Tip and settle on its side near the door. It felt like it’d wobbled into his gut. He fussed at a frayed string along the fresh wrap at Cas’ chest, red already weeping through the cotton. He waited. When Cas still didn’t look at him, he sloughed the whole nurse routine and slid gentle fingertips up the bruises on his neck. Kissed the rough turn of his jaw as he planted a knee on the bed and stretched over him, careful of where he put his weight. Stopping only as Cas reluctantly caught his eye. “Yeah, it does matter,” Dean agreed. “Which is why you can’t just rip your grace out and run, balls out, toward the first hunt you find. I don’t care how good you are. You shoulda told me. Or you should’ve at least told Sam.”

“I did tell Sam—“

“Before it was a 9-1-1, Cas! Okay? Before! That wasn’t okay, and I’m pissed at you for it!”

Tears cropped up in Cas’ eyes, the deep frown in his brow waning to worry. “I know,” he relented. “I’m pissed at me too. It was stupid.”

“It was stupid—damn stupid.” Dean felt it go, the little water balloon of emotions in his chest that used to have brick sides and no air holes. It was exposed now, popped easily with Cas’ pins. “I can’t lose you, you understand? Not again. I don’t think I could come back from it.” Tears ate down his face, and Cas urgently chased them, trying to thumb them away. Like the whole world would fall with them if they got down too far.

“I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, exhaustion, maybe pain, finally winning out in his stubborn body. Or maybe he just couldn’t handle seeing Dean raw. Maybe that’s what shattered him every damn time. “It was just supposed to be one Mimic. Just one Mimic.” His own tears escaped, rolled through his temples into his hair, then onto the soft pillow behind his head, and Dean suddenly felt compelled to stop those too.

“All right, that’s enough.” He kissed Cas’ cheek, the wet trail at his temple. Dragging the tip of his nose gently alongside Cas’ again, where it belonged. It was easy sometimes to forget he was a warrior. A real one, not like Dean. He was Heaven-forged and army-trained. At one time, he was the leader of his own battalion. An angel strong enough to crack God’s hold and receptive enough to learn to love. Wise enough to understand the weight of both. And all of that was tucked into a fragile human now, healing beneath the sheets of Dean’s bed. A thought that made Dean feel unbelievably tiny and incomparably huge.

“We’re okay,” he said as he kissed Cas' mouth. Then, “You’re okay now,” because that seemed even more important. A smile finally broke away from him, running wild against the heat on Cas’ skin. “I can’t believe you got all seven vamps on your own, you showoff.”

#happy canon day!#something small for you all 💙💚#destiel #destiel art #my art #my fic

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thesupreme316 · 5 months

Note

How aew men react to someone disrespecting their gfs

nick wayne x female reader, darius martin x female reader, hook x female reader, action andretti x female reader, dante martin x female reader, Eddie kingston x female reader, ricky starks x female reader

AEW BOYS React to: You Being Disrespected/Them Protecting You

Word Count: 1K

Supreme Speaks: hey sorry for being late. but thanks for being patient. you and another anon had the same request so i hope they also see this. i hope you guys enjoy this. Please remember that you are loved and appreciated.

Warning: GIFS AINT MINE, mentions of explicit language, slightly suggestive language

Taglist: @hooks-martin @sheinthatfandom @triscillal @cassie0sstuff @eddie-kingstons-wifey @hookerforhook @batzy-watzy @wwenhlimagines

Nick Wayne:

Okay, in my mind NICK IS A BABY

HE JUST WANTS PEACE

So he’ll ask for an apology from the person and but they refuse…In fact, they double down

And he just gets to fighting; lunging and tackling the person

But I think he’ll blackout fight

Like he didn’t even know he threw a punch until you pulled him off the other dude/person

Nick would be in shock at his actions, he’s shocked that he was that angry

He doesn’t like physical confrontation HES JUST A BABY

Would definitely buy you anything after that to make it up to you

But if he sees them again, it’s on and poppin

Darius Martin

Okay, tbh yall can go back (light years away) to find when I wrote Darius defending the reader against Sammy Guevara (ew)

But I believe that Darius is very diplomatic

Like he’ll fight with words first

He be like trying to create distance between you and the person

Constantly getting in their face and telling em to back up

Hates when you feel uncomfortable and tries to keep his anger at bay so that way you don’t get frightened

HOWEVER

I do think that Darius would wait for your approval to punch the person or lay hands on them

Him: looks back for approval

You: sighs yea

He doesn’t care who is around, he wants to send a message that you should never be disrespected

Ricky Starks

Okay like I always say…Ricky is a sassy and bold man

So I see him verbally assaulting the person before any punches are thrown

“You have the nerve to talk like that to my girl? In that outfit? Your parents must be so disappointed”

Ricky would just tell you to pay no mind to the person but they kept pushing his buttons

So he did what any gentleman would do

He calmly placed you at the side, turned to the disrespectful person, and calmly whispered in their ear

The person would then make a disgusted face and quickly walk away; mumbling an apology to you

Ricky wouldn’t tell you what he did, all he said was “Let’s go back to having a gorgeous day, beautiful.”

It was like you saw a switch go off…

But he then tells you the only disrespectful thing you’re gonna take is THAT PIPE IN YO-

Dante Martin (okay, idk why but Dante has been on the front of my mind recently….SO MY BABY)

If you have seen various tag matches with him and Darius, Dante is more of a hot-head/impulsive person

I also think because of him putting on weight (HAVE YALL SEEN HIS BACK?? OMG I JUST WANNA-)

He has found new confidence in protecting you, a task he doesn’t take lightly

So I think he will punch first, ask questions later

But it’s so bad that Darius or any of The Lads would have to hold him back

Yeah, after that he’s quiet as a mouse

He’ll only be thinking about how he can better protect you

If someone tries you again, I think he would try to use his words

…

But that doesn’t work so he’ll just go back to punching people left and right

Hook

Mr. Nice Guy

JUST KIDDING

He’s a silent killer, we all knew that

So if anything he’s choking out bitches left and right

Without hesitation like it happens so fast and you didn’t even know how he managed to it

Like are you dating the cold-heart handsome devil or Sonic the Hedgehog

But what makes it funnier is that he’s choking out a person with a straight ass face

Like no struggling or strain on his face

AND THEN

He gets up and continues the conversation that you two were previously having

Like he didn’t wasn’t your shining knight

“So yeah I like Cool Ranch more than Nacho Cheese”

Action Andretti

Andretti is a sweetheart and I think at first glance he doesn’t look that intimidating

So I think some people be underestimating him

But once he heard you get uncomfortable and disrespected, he quietly moved you aside before yelling in the other person’s face

You never saw him this angry so you kind of were in shock

And then you saw Andretti’s fist curl up so you were trying to pull him away but he stayed firm

“No, this bastard will apologize to you first. Then we can leave”

Although you were in shock by your boyfriend’s behavior, you can’t lie

It did turn you on

As soon as the dude left, you complimented your boyfriend and thanked him

He was trying to say you’re welcome but he saw that glint in your eyes and knew immediately how to show that you had the best boyfriend around

SO HE LAID THE WOOD-

Eddie Kingston:

MANS WILL NOT TAKE IT

Remember how he threw that TV at JAS? Yeah, he’s throwing everything in sight

I think everyone needs to understand that Eddie motherfucking Kingston is a ride-and-die friend

He will scorch the earth to ensure that you are defended

Any and all DMX songs are playing in his head while he’s doing so

He doesn’t tolerate disrespect at any time

So he and his friends will actively look for the person who disrespected you

Once he finds them, he pulls them aside

“Listen partna, you disrespected my girlfriend back there…don’t you think you outta apologize?” (Holds fork up to the person’s eye)

Would come back with a chunk of the person’s hair as a trophy and peace offering to you

To this day, Eddie would not tell you how he managed to get such a big chunk of the dude’s hair

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the-iceni-bitch · 1 year

Text

𝒰𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 ℐ ℒℴ𝓈ℯ ℳ𝓎 ℬ𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓉𝒽

Relationship: amazon!lawyer Natasha Romanoff x petite!curvy female reader (Big Red and Peach, NLLYL AU)

Words: ~5.2k

Summary: You and Nat don’t even realize how badly you need each other until you finally meet. But even then, you don’t take the plunge without meddling from your asshole friends.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (f/f sex, f receiving oral sex, multiple orgasms, mommy kink), idiots in love, meet cute, slow burn, drunk awkward flirting, age gap (not explicitly stated but it’s there), size difference, fluff, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: YAAAAAHHH! They are adorable and stupid and sweet and I need all of you to love them as much as I do, they are so precious. This new branch of the NLLYL AU is gonna kill me, just wait until we meet Thor…

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

You grumbled to yourself as you downed another shot of tequila, glaring at the bottom of the glass and then at Sam when he tried to walk away with the bottle.

“Hey… uh oh.” Darcy’s smile fell when she wandered up to you and saw the look on your face, eyeing Sam warily when he poured you another shot and shrugged at her. “I was hoping to meet that date of yours, where’d he wander off to?”

“Dunno.” You took another shot and frowned to yourself as you adjusted the front of your costume. “But some leggy blonde bitch was with him.”

“Oh no…” Darcy decided to forego the ‘told you so’ for now since you were drunk, but she had warned you that dudes that were willing to admit they might have overlapped the relationship they had before with yours probably shouldn’t be trusted. “Fuck him, honey.”

“Fuck all men.” You toasted no one and tossed back another shot, nodding to Sam when you slammed your glass on the bar and leaning on Darcy pretty heavily as you waited for him to refill you. “Except you, Sammy, you’re great. And so is Bucky. That big sweetheart.”

“Uh-huh.” Sam reached out whip fast to catch you before you toppled off your bar stool, sighing when you giggled and tried to disguise a heave as a cough. “Maybe you should slow down, baby girl.”

“Hey.” You scowled adorably as you pawed at his chest, slapping his cheek in what you had meant to be an affectionate pat before sighing deeply. “You wanna end up on my shitlist? No? Then keep ‘em coming. Where is Bucky?”

“He’s over in the hall but maybe…” Darcy hissed when you started wobbling away, chasing after you as you sang to yourself and shooting an exasperated look at Sam. “Baby, you need to drink some water.”

“I’m fine, shut up.” You saw Bucky and clapped, pushing Darcy away when she attempted to corral you. “Hiya Buck! I missed you.”

“Did you… wow.” Bucky caught you when you stumbled, chuckling when you breathed a tequila thick cloud right in his face and giving you a moment to find your feet. “I think you took the drunk pirate costume a little too close to heart, honey. Where’s your date?”

“God, it’s like being at a party with my parents.” You rolled your eyes and tried to remain steady when you felt the shots starting to really hit you. “Probably sucking the face off some blonde bitch, we’ve decided he sucks.”

“I’m sorry, honey.” Bucky tweaked your nose when you blew a raspberry at him, turning his head when someone walked up and making you huff at the lack of attention. “Hey Nat.”

“Hi Buck, brought you another beer.”

You were fully prepared to tell whoever was taking up your much needed Bucky time to fuck off, but then you came face to… chest with the most incredible set of tits you’d ever seen in your life. There was only a moment for you to drunkenly scold yourself for that thought, because then you were looking up and up and up and…

“Wow, you’re pretty.” You forgot all about Bucky, grinning sloppily and almost careening over so your face really was in those amazing breasts before her hand was on your waist and you were giggling. “Really really pretty. Why haven’t I met you?”

“Oh, Bucky’s been hiding me, I’m shy.” Nat grinned at her friend over your shoulder when you tried to bat your eyelashes at her but it didn’t quite work since your eyelids were drooping, shaking her head when he gave her an inquisitive look and steadying you with a firm grip on your shoulders. “But he’s been hiding you too, I think. Look at how fucking cute you are.”

Your laugh almost hurt your ears, it was much more shrill than you had intended, a cackle really. Nat didn’t seem to mind though, beaming at you when you slapped her chest then apologized for feeling her up while you tried to step even closer to her.

“Stop, you can’t call me cute.” And she smelled amazing, she was like the warrior princess of your dreams. “Not when you’re walking around like a fucking wet dream. Seriously, why haven’t I met you?”

“Cutie, you’re gonna make me blush.” Nat shushed you when you giggled even more, taking a glass of water when Darcy handed it to her and holding it up to your lips. “I’ve just been busy. Now, why don’t you be a good girl for me and drink some water?”

“Mmmm, you call me a good girl and I’ll do whatever you want.” You gulped down water as she looked at you expectantly, leaning into her touch and sighing heavily when she took the glass away. “Oh my god, let’s go do karaoke!”

“Good morning!” Darcy dropped the greasy burrito bag in front of you and chuckled when you heaved and buried your head in your arms. “How are we feeling today?”

“I shouldn’t be at work.” You winced when you picked your head up and the lights made your brain throb, grumbling as you pulled your breakfast out of the bag and started unwrapping it. “Why did you let me have tequila?”

“You forget that no one ‘lets’ you do anything.” Darcy sank into the chair next to yours and logged on, still giving you that shit eating grin that you hated. “All of us tried numerous times to get the tequila away from you and you always tried to scratch our eyes out. How much of last night do you remember?”

“I remember Troy being a fucking douchebag, setting up at the bar, and then…” you froze with a mouthful of burrito when panic started to set in, heat flushing through your whole body as you barely remembered to swallow your food and images from last night flashed through your head. “Did… did I hit on Bucky’s best friend?”

“Oh, you did more than that.” You didn’t even notice Darcy’s chuckling, too horrified at yourself to smack her like you normally would. “You serenaded her. You practically gave her a lap dance while you sang ‘Do You Wanna Touch’, I have it on video if you want to see.”

“Nooooooooo…” you were going to run away and become a mountain hermit, you could not believe you had made such an ass out of yourself in front of probably the most beautiful woman on the planet who was so much older than you and tall and put together and that was it, your life was over.

“Yes, it was a great time, everyone enjoyed it.” Darcy gave you a pat on the back when you sobbed and banged your head against the desk. “It’s fine, everyone will call you Joan Jett for a couple of weeks and then one of the guys will do something stupider and they’ll forget all about it.”

“But I won’t forget, oh my fucking god!” You vaguely remembered the gorgeous redhead helping you into your Uber and smiling at you when you told her you were going to climb her like a tree and call her mommy, and suddenly it felt like your burrito was about to come back up. “How the fuck am I supposed to face Bucky?!?!?”

“Hi Joan!” Damn it, it was like you’d summoned him, at least his smile was tinged with sympathy when he handed you a bottle of Gatorade. “How’s your head?”

“Who cares, Bucky!” You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you. “Please tell me I didn’t sexually harass your friend to the point where she never wants to see you again.”

“Nat? Don’t worry about her, she had a great time.” You couldn’t decide if that should make you feel better or worse. “Said if all my parties with coworkers are like that she’s gonna have to try to make it to every single one of them.”

“Of course she did.” You hated your life, you were going to give up drinking and sex and only get your enjoyment from food from now on. “Who wouldn’t have a good time watching someone make an absolute buffoon out of themselves while they’re shit faced? Please tell me I never have to face that woman?”

Bucky was about to reassure you when the door behind him opened suddenly and you squeaked and dove under the desk, looking over his shoulder and sighing when Nat was there. She looked relaxed and incredibly pleased with herself, nodding at Bucky when he sighed with exasperation and coming to lean on the counter right above where you were hiding while she chuckled as you asked if she was gone yet.

“Hey, cutie?” Nat was trying not to laugh too much when you squeaked again then whined when the table thumped after you cracked your head against it. “Sweetheart, I think you might be missing your wallet.”

You were, you hadn’t been able to find it this morning and ended up hopping the turnstile so you could make it to work on time. Nat was giving you what you could only describe as a look of warm amusement when you finally crawled out from underneath the desk to face her, she was so gorgeous, and you looked like warmed over vomit, this was potentially the worst day of your life. She was holding your wallet between two fingers as she smirked at you, watching you closely while you took it from her and biting her lip in a way that didn’t make you feel anything.

“Where did you find it?” She was freaking you out, you couldn’t get a read on her.

“Hmm, you gave it to me.” You had shoved it down the front of her costume, but seeing how small you looked right now made her think it might not be the best idea to bring that fact up. “You said you were going to give me your card and told me to call you, then gave me the whole wallet.”

“My card? It’s not the nineties.” You hated your life. “Thank you for bringing it back, you could’ve just given it to Bucky, though.”

“But then I couldn’t have seen you again.” That smile was going to knock you on your ass, she was so unnerving. “And I’d take any excuse to see a pretty thing like you.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes and scoffed when she winked at you, what a fucking tease. “Don’t flirt with me, I already feel like shit.”

“That’s not what I want, sweetheart.” She couldn’t get enough of that sassy look on your face, just wanted to eat you up. “You should feel good all the time.”

“Bucky, tell your friend I have to work.” You tried not to feel too warm and bubbly when she kept grinning at you, play flirting was not what you needed right now. “But thank her for bringing my wallet back.”

“You are so very welcome, sweet girl.” She shook her head as she straightened back up. “Pretty as a peach. Let’s go get some coffee, Barnes. You ladies want anything?”

“No thanks.” Darcy still had that damn grin on her face once they were gone and now you were itching to smack her. “Um, why were you rude to someone who was clearly hitting on you?”

“She was not hitting on me.” You snorted as you started digging back into your burrito and focusing on your screen. “Have you seen her? She’s an amazon sex goddess, she’s not going to hit on me.”

“You… oh my god, you’re so fucking stupid.” Darcy wanted to bang her head against the wall, you were too stubborn for your own good. “She’s into you.”

“No she’s not.”

“She is, you fucking moron.”

“She is not, you balloon chested bimbo.”

“Hey!” Darcy balled up a tissue and threw it at you, sticking her tongue out when you scowled at her. “That was mean, you lollipop guild reject. And yes she is.”

“You wanna tell me what exactly you’ve been doing these past few months?” Bucky frowned at Nat when she tried to act like she was paying attention to the game behind him and sipped her beer innocently.”

“Not quite sure what you mean.” She knew exactly what he meant, but she wasn’t going to admit to anything when he was giving her that stern father look.

“Uh-huh.” Bucky loved her, but getting the woman to open up was like trying to crack a walnut with his bare hands. “Don’t think I’ve seen you around the precinct so much since I started there.”

“I’m just helping my clients.” She should’ve ordered vodka if she knew the conversation was heading this way. “It’s my job.”

“Every single client that comes through the 82?” Bucky tapped the bar top while she still avoided his gaze. “Because I seem to remember Matt and Maria handling most of them, since you’re the face of the firm.”

“Excuse me for taking a more hands on approach.” Nat managed to flag down the bartender and finally ordered her vodka. “I’m a philanthropist.”

“You’re full of shit.” Bucky rolled his eyes when she just shrugged. “You need to spend so much time at the front desk every time you come in?”

“I have to fill out paperwork.” She sipped on her new drink and sighed as she finally turned her attention to him. “And it’s nice chatting with the girls.”

“Both of them?” He tried not to grin when she blushed and stared at the bottom of her glass, reaching out to cover her hand with his and giving her a small squeeze. “Natasha, you haven’t slept with anyone in two months.”

Nat hated when Bucky looked at her like that, like he knew all her secrets better than she did. Of course she’d been hanging around the precinct and flirting like an idiot, she couldn’t stop thinking about you. Feisty, sassy, ‘take no shit from anyone’ you. Everything about you was so fucking cute, especially when you gave her that massive fucking attitude whenever she flirted with you. All she wanted was to pick you up and kiss you stupid to get you to quit running that smart mouth. She thought she’d done a good job of hiding her feelings, though.

Damn Bucky for being able to read her like a damn book.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” It meant everything, she loved sex, but she didn’t want to have it with anyone else. “I’m busy.”

“Would you quit lying.” Bucky leaned forward and bonked her head with his, smiling when she pouted at him and kissing her cheek. “You have big feelings for the little lady, so why don’t you admit it and finally ask her out?”

All she wanted was to ask you out, but it fucking terrified her.

Which was ridiculous. She could have anyone she wanted with the crook of her finger. Men and women fell on their fucking knees for the chance at just one night with her. They would eat out of the palm of her hand and they would thank her when she sent them on their way with just a cup of coffee and a fancy pastry in the morning.

But you?

You weren’t interested. Every time she flirted you would just dismiss her and tell her you had too much to do, even when you called her beautiful. You would always call her mean for being such a tease and tell her the only reason you let her get away with that shit is because she was so gorgeous. Even after so many months she hadn’t worn you down at all, which was kind of cute, but also ridiculously frustrating. All she had managed was to glean some small kernels of personal information from you and hold onto them like they were the most precious things in the world, because damn it, she wanted to know everything about you.

“It’s just nice right now.” Nat rested her head on Bucky’s shoulder and blew out an exasperated breath. “If I don’t ask, she can’t say no.”

“That’s what you’re scared of?” Bucky kissed the top of her head when she nodded. “Holy shit, babe. I don’t think you’ve ever even considered rejection a possibility, this is one for the books.”

“Shut up.” Nat scrunched up her face when he wound his arm around her and gave her a squeeze. “She’s so fucking cute, it freaks me out.”

“Yeah.” He took a sip of his beer while he thought things over, rubbing her shoulder absentmindedly and chewing on his lips. “You’ve gotta ask though, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“You’re in such a fucking snit.” Darcy frowned at you after you snapped at her for nothing, rolling her eyes when you just sniffed and ignored her. “Just because your crush hasn’t been here in a whole week, you giant sap.”

“I’m not a sap, shut up.” You huffed and crossed your arms under your breasts with a pout. “I’m PMSing.”

“God, you’re a liar.” She tapped her fingers against the desk irritably when you just kept up the petulant facade. “You want to see her, you’re mad she hasn’t been around, admit it.”

“I. Said. Shut. Up.” You wanted to kick her under the desk, she was so annoying. “I admit nothing.”

“Ugh, whatever, brat.” Darcy turned away from you when someone came up to the desk, grinning when she saw it was Bucky and ignoring your grumbling. “Hiya Bucky! Why hasn’t your friend stopped by in such a long time? It’s annoying my girl, and she’s starting to piss me off with her attitude.”

“My friend… Nat?” Bucky smiled and snuck a peek at you when Darcy nodded, the petulant look on your face a reminder of the friend they were talking about who was also ridiculously stubborn. “She was out of the city for a case, but she’s back now.”

“Oh really?” Darcy did not miss the way you straightened up a little at that, keeping her focus on Bucky while you tried to act like you weren’t listening. “Will she be stopping by anytime soon?”

“She’s actually coming by for lunch and should be here…” both of the meddlers grins got even wider when the door opened and the redhead walked in, ignoring her intrigued stare and turning back to each other. “Speak of the devil. Yours gonna quit being so snotty now?”

“Probably not.” Your squawked ‘snotty?’ was not acknowledged, Darcy still focused on Bucky and decidedly fed up with you being such a stubborn ass. “Don’t think she’ll quit being such a whiny little asshole until yours actually goes on a date with her.”

“Well, Nat was supposed to go out for drinks with me Friday but, gosh, I just remembered I have to wash my hair.” Now Bucky was ignoring Nat when she sighed indignantly. “So her night just freed up, isn’t yours off work?”

“Yes she is.” You were making so many offended noises but Darcy was past caring. “Seven o’clock should work well. Gimme her phone.”

“Yep.” Bucky managed to snatch it out of Nat’s hand before she could react, unlocking it and handing it to Darcy while she grabbed yours and did the same. “I’ll make sure she texts.”

“Me too.” Darcy winked when Bucky gave your phone back to her, waving when he ushered Nat out before she had a chance to protest then turning to beam at you while you just blinked stupidly. “You’re welcome, dumbass.”

Nat had been staring at your door for three minutes.

Her nerves were being ridiculous. This was just a date. She went on dates all the time.

But this was with you.

It had taken a day for her to finally text you the word hi, then another day for you to text her hi back. And then it was like the floodgates had opened. The next three days the two of you were constantly talking whenever you had a moment, finding out everything about each other that you could and Nat smiling whenever a notification popped up like she was a fucking schoolgirl. She was utterly infatuated with you, it was freaking her out. And she loved it.

She finally knocked, holding her breath while she waited for you and grinning when she heard you trip over something and curse. As soon as the door opened she felt like her heart was going to burst through her chest, you looked so fucking beautiful.

The look on her face was making you feel faint, like your tongue was too thick for your mouth and your brain couldn’t function while you gazed up at her and tried not to swoon. You couldn’t believe it was actually happening, that the last few months hadn’t been some colossal joke at your expense. This woman actually wanted to go out with you.

“Hi.” Her voice sounded so fucking sexy, she was going to kill you.

“Hi.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say, licking your lips and trying not to whine when she growled softly.

Next thing you knew you were pinned to the wall in your tiny little entryway with the plushest set of lips you’d ever felt smashed against yours, barely registering your apartment door slamming closed as you whined at the way your toes were barely brushing the floor as Nat wound her arms around your waist. Even when she started kissing down the curve of your neck, you could still hardly breathe, whining when she purred against your skin and trying to focus your eyes but failing miserably.

“Wait, Nat.” You whined when she ducked even lower to gently kiss along the tops of your breasts, gasping when she gave you a hungry look as she sucked a bruise against your skin. “Don’t we have a reservation?”

“Yeah… yeah we do. You say the word and we’ll go right now.” She smiled when you whimpered as she stood back up to her full height, resting her forehead against yours and breathing deeply as she settled her eyes on yours. “But the only thing I want to eat right now is that warm, wet prize between your legs, pretty thing.”

“Oh… wow.” You were pretty sure she was going to kill you, but you were absolutely fine with that. “We can stay.”

“Good girl.”

Natasha pressed her lips to yours and swallowed your yelp when she lifted you to wrap around her, her fingers digging into your hips while she carried you over to the couch. Her grin grew even wider when you let out a surprised huff at her dropping you onto the sofa, your breath getting shallow when she climbed on top of you and slipped her warm palms up your thighs and under your skirt.

“God, you’re so fucking soft.” She curled over you again and sucked on your lips until you moaned, slowly peeling your dress off you and biting her lip when you were finally bare to her gaze. “Beautiful.”

“Shut up.” You couldn’t help but giggle when she laughed at you trying to act coquettish while she had you at her mercy, sighing when she just kissed you and running your fingers up her spine. “Do I get to see you too and call you pretty?”

“When I’m done with my meal.” Nat bit your lip playfully before starting to kiss and lick every inch of your breasts, sucking on your nipples and tugging at them with her teeth while you could only make pathetic noises. “Wanna taste every fucking inch of you.”

“O-kay.” You hiccuped when she nuzzled at your stomach and squeezed your hips with a groan, your eyes fluttering closed when she trailed kisses along your curves. “Sounds great.”

“Mmhm.” She growled playfully and bit your thigh before smacking the side of your ass. “Flip over.”

You did what she asked, slowly rolling onto your stomach and whining when she grabbed two handfuls of your ass and squeezed. Then she smacked it again and you could have screamed, you throbbed so hard, her lips and teeth and tongue marking your sensitive skin until your eyes rolled back in your head.

“Nat…” you whimpered when she kept rubbing your ass and purring against your skin, arching your back and spreading your legs as she pulled your cheeks apart so she could stare at you. “Oh fuck, don’t stop.”

“Never. Fuck, you smell so good.” Nat buried her face between your thighs and groaned when she breathed you in deep, dragging her tongue over your slit agonizingly slow so she could taste all of you. “Jesus Christ, fucking peaches.”

There was no answer you could give her except a desperate mewl, letting yourself sink into the cushions when she slid her tongue inside your cunt and curled it. You feel like you were already losing your mind, panting like an idiot while she rubbed her nose against your cute little asshole and digging your fingers into the couch while she tongue fucked you until your whole body felt like one big spring that was wound too tight.

Your pussy was so fucking wet, Nat couldn’t seem to work her mouth fast enough to suck up everything that was dripping out of you, even with her lips wrapped around you so she didn’t miss anything. And the fact that you could hear all the obscene wet sloshes and slurps was not helping, your muscles spasming wildly as you felt it building up insanely fast.

“Fuck… oh fuck.” All you could do was let out a thin, high whine when you fell apart, your cunt fluttering against her lips and gushing into her mouth while she groaned at the taste of your cum. “Mommy…”

“Shit. You had me thinking you were never gonna actually say it, peach.” Nat grinned against you and hummed as she kept kissing your pussy like she could live off it. “Knew you’d be a good girl for mommy, knew this pussy would be so sweet for me. Why don’t you fuck it on my face, pretty girl? Make a goddamn mess out of me, mommy needs it.”

Yeah, she was definitely going to kill you. You reached back and buried your fingers in her hair as you started grinding your ass back into her face, biting the pillow under your face and whimpering when her tongue flicked against your clit. Then her thumb teased against your asshole and your brain broke, your hips writhing wildly when she sucked on your clit until you almost came before she pulled back with a wicked grin.

“Knew you’d like that, just look at you.” Nat bit her lip when she watched your little hole wink at her as she spat on it, her thumb circling the tight ring of muscle slowly and listening to your pathetic sounds as she kept flicking her tongue over your slit like a tease. “These are all mommy’s holes now, peachy girl. Gonna spoil the shit out of you.”

The way you gasped when she slid her thumb into your ass and started flitting her tongue around it was making Natasha clench, her thighs squeezing together when you shoved your hips back even more and yanked on her hair so she was practically suffocating you. She didn’t realize how much she was going to enjoy you completely losing it for you and using her just so you could get off, deciding very quickly that she was going to need to turn you into a mess all the time.

You were going to come again. All the buildup and how fucking sexy she sounded when she moaned and slurped and spat and just, all of it. Damn her and her incredible mouth and how fucking hot she was. And damn you for turning into such a fucking melty mess for her, though who could really blame you for that.

“Mommy please.” You whimpered when she kept fucking your ass with her thumb as her other hand began playing with your clit and you couldn’t help but kick your feet as you felt yourself teetering on the edge again. “Please, wanna come for mommy, need it.”

“Mmm, mommy needs it too, pretty baby.” Nat nipped at the soft skin that was twitching around her thumb while her other hand pinched your clit until you squeaked. “Come for me, sweet girl, let mommy drink from this perfect little pussy, oh my fucking god.”

You almost screamed when she ducked low to suck on your swollen clit, pulling on her hair and screwing your eyes closed while your body started shaking uncontrollably. Nat groaned when you started gushing all over her face, wrapping her mouth around your soft lips and swallowing everything you gave her with a low moan that sent a shiver up your spine. She loved that you couldn’t stop moving against her face as you rode it out, determined to be able to watch your face the next time she made you come and every single time after that.

Her lips spread in a slow smile when you kept shivering as she pulled back from your sex, moving her hands to knead your cheeks deeply while she rested her head against your hip and watched you ride it out. You couldn’t do anything except chirp and let your body sink into the couch, barely having the energy to turn your face and peek over your shoulder at her while a sloppy grin split your face.

“Hiiiiiiii.” Again, you couldn’t think of what else to say, especially since your brain was still mostly offline after two incredible orgasms that were better than anything any man had ever given you.

“Hey baby.” She couldn’t stop smiling as she crawled up your body and nuzzled at your cheek, purring happily when you let out a small sound of satisfaction and wrapping her arms around your waist to hold you as close as possible. “My sweet girl. I do feel a little bad about us missing dinner, but I couldn’t control myself.”

“Listen, that’s fiiiiiine with me.” You let her flip you onto your back and pulled her face to yours so you could lose yourself even more in kissing her. “You can kill me with orgasms tonight and it will be a very happy death.”

“You might be fine with that, but I’m not.” Nat chuckled into your mouth when you just gave her a pitiful little whimper. “Sorry, I’m kinda addicted to that pussy now, sweet peach. I’d get all bummed out if I didn’t have access to it for the rest of my life.”

“Oh, well.” You were not used to this level of attention, and it was even worse when you were in such a state of euphoria. “That’s okay too.”

“Good.” She pecked you once more before sitting up over you, gushing you when you whined at the lack of contact before winking when you swallowed audibly at the sight of her body when she pulled her dress over her head. “Now, should we take a bath before or after I rub my pussy all over yours until I come inside you?”

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pentacentric · 2 months

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I probably think way too much about how very little Sam knew about Mary. How John and Dean gave him almost nothing, to the point that she wasn't even really like a ghost shadowing his life, more like the story of one overheard in bits and pieces over the years. And yet, his whole life from when he can first remember—every bit of motivation or guilt, every point of pride or shame—is built around his mother, this person he isn't allowed to know.

I've written a lot of bits and pieces about it before, but never a standalone. This is actually an excerpt from a longer story, but I modified it some and I think it works on its own, hopefully (he knows about hunting already but that's really the only canon difference).

..........................

When Sam's in fourth grade, and has to write a page about his favorite memory, he asks for Dean's help. All he can seem to dredge up at the moment is just too weird or too farfetched. Things that say far too much about the way they live for a teacher to read.

So he asks Dean what he would write about.

After some teasing about his best memories being of all the times Sam's embarrassed himself (and a well-aimed pink rubber eraser hitting him between the eyes) Dean quiets down and turns thoughtful.

"Well, I dunno what my most favorite memory would be, really. I guess…" He bites his lip, chews on it for a second, gaze directed absently into the distance. "I think it would prob'ly be my first memories? It musta been, like, when I was three and four maybe. They're…of Mom."

"Oh." Sam's chest gets a little tight. He speaks quietly, cautiously. Dean—Dean and Dad both—they don't talk about her much. Sam's seen her picture, the one that Dad keeps in his journal, a few times, but he knows so little about her. Just that she was pretty (beautiful), with a smile that reminds of him of Dean's and wavy blonde hair. "What was she—what are they like?"

Dean smiles, maybe a little sad, but it's more than that. Warm, wistful; gaze still unfocused and distant. "Mostly…happy. Like…bright. She'd sing to me a lot, and, like, I didn't know the songs back then, but, when I hear 'em now, I can hear her voice singing them. Beatles, Beach Boys, Simon and Garfunkel, um…Peter, Paul, and Mary, maybe…" Dean chuffs out a laugh. "I remember Puff the Magic Dragon, at least…I think I even remember Dad teasin' her about how she better sing me some real music, too, not just sissy crap, but, I dunno, maybe I made that up."

Dean pauses, that bittersweet expression on his face, still, and Sam doesn't want him to get lost in it. He also doesn't want to miss this opportunity, if he can help it.

"I dunno. He'd say somethin' like that." Dean spares him half a smile, still somewhere else in his head. "What…what else do you remember? What'd you guys do together?"

"Well, not a whole lot. I guess mostly just the normal stuff you do with a little kid. Like legos, I remember we'd build castles an' fortresses and stuff. I wanted her to build me a car but we didn't have enough black bricks, so she made me a little boat instead. Dad said it looked like a bathtub." He smiles. "Um, she'd dance with me, sometimes. To the radio. Make lunch—I mostly remember sandwiches and Mac n' Cheese. I'd sit in that little seat in the cart when she went to the grocery store, and she'd ask me what was on the list and I'd pretend I could read it and make up dumb stuff."

The silence is longer this time. Sam breathes out, carefully. "What kinda stuff?"

"I dunno. Just silly things, like 'elephant steaks!' Or 'a unicorn!' Or 'poop n' rhubarb pie!'"

"Gross." Sam wrinkles his nose.

Dean grins at that. "I think you're, like, the only kid ever who never found poop and fart jokes funny."

"'Cause they're not."

When Dean laughs, muttering little weirdo, Sam looks around for something harmless to throw at him, pouts.

"Don't worry, Sammy, if anyone wonders why you're so weird I'll just tell them it's 'cause you still poop your pants, and you're kinda sensitive about it an' all."

"Dean."

Sam decides that his pencil is perfectly fine to throw after all and, as a concession, doesn't aim it at his head. Dean grins, not seeming too annoyed by the assault, so Sam decides to push his luck.

"Did Mom think it was funny? Your lists?"

Dean's melancholy little smile is back. "Yeah…yeah, I think she did. She'd always laugh, anyways. An' she had the best laugh. I'd make up stuff that just got more and more ridiculous just so I could keep watchin' her laugh." He sighs, shrugs. "Anyways, yeah…that's Mom. That's what I remember."

It gets quiet after that, and Sam can see Dean's face starting to shutter over as he withdraws. It's rare for Sam to get to see his brother so open and unguarded any more. Over the last few years, Dean's started to change; Sam can tell. Still fun, still charming, still affectionate, at least with Sam (mostly when there's no one else around to catch him being so uncool). But, even though they're not always alike—Dean doesn't usually brood, rarely explodes, and he never gets that kind of burning cold John does when he's focused on something—sometimes now he kinda reminds Sam of Dad. He's been more closed off, the way Dad can be, his deeper emotions pushed farther away, out of Sam's reach. Doesn't show when things get to him, like he used to.

It's actually kind of lonely, sometimes.

"So, what are you gonna write about, Sammy?"

When Sam shrugs, Dean suggests the time they ran out of gas on a back road in central Florida. They'd only walked two miles before an Oscar Myer Wienermobile came barreling down the road, seemingly out of nowhere, and gave them a lift to and from the closest gas station (still a good eight miles away). Sam counters with the night in Montana that Dad got so drunk he started fighting with the motel owner about yetis (Dad coming down hard on the side of 'hoax'). They ended up getting kicked out at two am after Dad had cut down the guy’s “Bigfoot Crossing” sign with an axe. They toss back and forth increasingly ridiculous ideas until they're both laughing so hard they're in literal tears. When John comes back, they can't even stop long enough to answer what's so funny. Dad just smiles, bemused and fond, and shakes his head before heading off to shower.

Sam thinks maybe he can add this afternoon to his Good Memories pile.

In the end, he waits until that evening, before bed, and easily fills up a page-and-a-half about the time, last summer, when Dad was on a hunt out west and he and Dean had spent all afternoon exploring tidal pools in Yaquina Head, Oregon, marveling at the tiny little aquatic worlds they found. He invents an older teenage cousin that tagged along so the teacher won't question why two young kids spent the day alone in a national park.

He gets an A.

From then on, Sam keeps his eyes out in thrift stores for cassettes from the bands Dean mentioned; pockets them when he can to listen to later on the beat-up Walkman knock-off Dean stole for him for his sixth birthday. He likes a lot of it, but he's careful about what he keeps; only his favorites. He stashes them in the bottom of his school bag, in the hollowed-out book that Bobby showed him how to make last year, on a rainy day when Sam got bored with watching old Westerns.

For some reason, he doesn't want Dean to know about them. Doesn't want him to feel like Sam's trying to take something away from him. So he slips them in when he's sitting in the back of the Impala alone, on long trips, and closes his eyes. Lets the albums pour into his ears over the headphones; shuts the rest of the world out. Sgt Pepper's. Pet Sounds. Bookends. He tries to imagine his mom, Mary, singing the songs to him, in a sunny kitchen.

But he can never really pull together a complete image of her; just bits and pieces, blurred-together impressions: yellow hair, the smiling face from the picture (looking kind of flat, like a mask), a flowered dress he'd seen in a shop window. And he doesn't know what her voice sounded like, so it kind of just ends up being a composite of the voices of some of his favorite teachers (along with the mother of a classmate back in Indiana who drove him home once when she spotted him waiting for the rain to stop under the playground slide).

So he gives up on trying to picture her, and, instead, just tries to sink into the music, sees if he can feel what she was feeling when she listened to it. Imagines the conversations they might have: which songs would be her favorites, why she would have liked them, where she was the first time she heard them playing.

When he hears those songs on the radio now, or over the speakers in a restaurant, it makes him feel kind of happy and sad at the same time.

They remind him of her.

(Except for America—for some reason, that one makes him think of Dean.)

#spn fic #sam winchester #dean winchester #weechesters #mary winchester #john winchester #sam's lonliness #motherless sam #supernatural fanfic #my fic

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rottingsam · 4 months

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dean coercing sam to get between his legs after a hunt, sam thinks they’re probably just going to blow each other and call it a night, so he goes on his knees easily enough. it’s in the middle of july, hot and humid and deans worked up more than a decent sweat. so much so that it makes his balls stick to his preinuim and his boxers simultaneously. sam goes to pull dean’s boxers off, only to have his head forcefully shoved down into his brothers crotch, holding him down down on the dampened fabric. slowly dean starts to grind as sam struggles, nose pressed into the musky fabric trying to pull off by to no avail. “c’mon sammy, you sniff em enough while im gone, don’t tell me the panty sniffer can’t preform in front of a crowd.” sam flushes hot, his cock blurts out a thick drop of precum in his underwear and he tries one last failed attempt to pull away. dean keeps a steady grind, and sam finally lets himself take a deep whiff, it smells like salt and musk, smells like dean dean dean. quickly, dean moves his leg between sams thighs, he waste no time pressing his own erection into the muscle while he buried his nose even further into the the clothes space where deans balls meet his thigh.

#scent kink #samdean #ro writes

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bladenotblaze · 1 month

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On Tour Hairstylist

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Summary: reader and old friend of Greta Van Fleet is asked to go on tour with the boys and be their On tour hairstylist.

Warnings: None!

A/N: please let me now if you liked this, I appreciate any and all feedback!! Let me know if there’s anything you’d might want me to write!!!!

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Being the on tour hairstylist for Greta Van Fleet is NOT something you would think you’d be doing but here you are. 45 minutes till places, 3 boys running around bickering about what’s going to happen and what shouldn’t happen.

“Sam I’m telling you that there is going to be someone who gets a bloody nose!” Danny yelling at Sam turning in the chair in front of me causing you to lightly hit him on his head. He let a little sorry and turned back around to face the mirror.

“Daniel that happened 2 times it’s not gonna happen again!!” Sam retorted back rolling his eyes running his hand through his hair. You decide to let them bicker back and forth.

“Josh you’ve been awfully quiet” you finally spoke up, trying to say ‘Josh please help me shut them up!’ You were almost done with Danny’s hair, putting more curl product in your hand and scrunching his hair.

“When is it my turn?” Josh said getting up shooing Danny out of the chair.

“HEY! Y/N said I’m going next wait your turn stupid.” Sam said jumping off the couch nearly tripping and falling into Josh

“Okay well I’m older which means I go first.’ Josh responded with his nose up looking all high and mighty.

“Guys they aren’t done with my hair yet.” Danny said rolling his eyes

“Josh your hair takes to long.” Sam said putting his hand on his hip

“I don’t take that long, at least I don’t ask to get my dead ends cut every other fucking stop” Josh said pointing his finger in Sam’s face.

You rolled your eyes patting Danny on the shoulder signalling that you were done and let him get up. Ever the gentleman that Daniel Wagner is he said thank you and gave you a kiss on the cheek. You smiled and said ‘good luck, don’t break anymore sticks.’ Just as Danny was leaving you saw Jake he looked at you and smiled already knowing that neither of his brothers would be going.

“Hi Jakey!” You said as Jake sat down smiling at you in the mirror.

“Good evening Y/N.” He responded giving the stink eye to both his brothers who stopped arguing.

“THATS NOT FAIR!” Sam and Josh said in unison looking sad and angry that they weren’t in the chair.

“Don’t you dare make me call your mother.” You said fingers already running through Jake’s hair. All you heard was ‘sorry’ ‘won’t happen again’

You looked at your watch and realised you had 20 minutes to get them all dolled up and on stage. Luckily Jake’s hair wasn’t too bad, he only needed some anti-frizz and some hair gel to keep his luscious locks in line.

“You are all done my kind sir!” You said in a fake British accent curtsying as Jake got up.

“The pleasures all mine love.” Jake said bowing at you like he was a prince.

“Sam your next, Josh I don’t want to hear a thing.” You said looking at both the boys shooting daggers into them. Sam sat down with a smug grin on his face that you quickly wiped off with a soft smack to the back of his head. Much like Jake Sam’s hair didn’t need that much, he just needed some hair gel. As quickly as he was sat down he was back up against

“Good luck Sammy.” You said Sam responded with a kiss to your forehead.

“Sorry Sam just thinks he’s the best cause he’s the youngest.” Josh said sitting in the chair playing with on of the combs you have laid out on the makeup counter.

“It’ll be a cold day in hell when Kiszka brothers stop fighting over big or small.” You said getting the hairspray and spraying it all over joshes curly hair. You were really focused on not getting the hairspray in joshes eye Ethan you didn’t hear a single word he said. You also had to fix a few rhinestones that had fallen off.

“Am I good to go honey?” Josh said looking up at you.

“Yes sir. Give em hell joshy.” You said giving him a hug. As soon as Josh had left you let out a big sigh and thought about how much you loved these boys. They were so amazing and understanding. There hasn’t been a day were you weren’t given a hug or a kiss on the check. The relationship you had with those boys was something nobody could replace. They were your everything, your light in the dark.

“Guys I don’t know if I can go on tour with you.” You said looking down at your fingers fidgeting with the rings all of the boys had collectively gotten you over the years. Smiling at how happy they each looked when you opened your gift and immediately put it on your finger.

“Y/N we don’t want to pressure you but we wouldn’t have asked if we didn’t a 100% believe in you and your abilities.” Sam said putting his hand of your shoulder giving it a light squeeze.

“You’ve been nothing but supportive over the years. Even when we were only playing out of garages.” Josh added laughing a bit at the memories of the boys just starting out.

“You are literally our sister at this point.” Jake said moving to sit down on the couch in the living room.

“We love you and will still love you with whatever you decide to do.” Danny said embracing me in a big bear hug. You stayed there for a second or two before the rest of the boys joined in. You felt safe and protected with these boys. It felt like nothing in the world could tear us apart. After what felt like and eternity I felt the boys release their grip on me

“If… IF. I go on tour with y’all…what would I even do?” You looked at them with your hands in the air with a smirk on your face.

“Well IF- Jake said making sure to enunciate the if- you decide to join us on tour..”

“You’d be out hairstylist and our Tour Parent.” Josh finished Jake’s sentence looking between Sam and Danny shrugging.

“You’d also get to travel the world see new places, meet new people.” Sam said cheerfully looking like a kid who opened up a new gaming console.

“And you’ll get to be with us 24/7 and who doesn’t want that??” Danny said putting both his hands on your shoulders making you laugh.

You laughed at the memory of when they first asked you. These boys were everything to you Day by day the love you have for those 4 boys grows

⊷⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊷⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷

Taglist: @idontevenknowwhattodo

Tags:

#greta van fleet #danny wagner #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #gvf #jake kiszka #starcatcher #danny gvf #jake gvf #josh gvf #greta van fic #greta van fluff #josh kiszka x reader #danny wagner x reader #jake kiszka x reader #sam kiszka x reader #gvf danny #sam gvf #gvf fanfiction

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moonlightspencie · 1 year

Note

hear me out… washing the impala at the bunker with dean when you’re bored. please and thank you 🫶🏼

literally rbed a gifset of him doing that exact thing earlier today. i’m feral for this scene {and the entire episode} so my brain is running wild rn hehe (also the quote from said episode, “i’m mostly confused” was one of my first handles on tumblr)

pairing: dean winchester x reader

—————

You strolled around the bunker, frankly unsure what to do with yourself without the absolute urgency of chasing down some big bad. Not even a casual case had come up in a couple days, and you were growing a bit restless.

You finally ran into Sam after wandering for a while, catching him as he made a sandwich in the kitchen.

“Hey,” you greeted briefly, walking over to steal a piece of ham.

You chewed on it as he glanced at you with a quirked brow. He chuckled softly, then sighed.

“Hey,” he finally said. “You done eating my sandwich ingredients?”

“It was one piece of ham, Sammy.”

“Sam,” he corrected.

“I’ve been living with y’all for how long?”

He paused, then shook his head softly with a smile.

“You doing anything today?” you asked, hopping up on the counter.

He watched you for a moment. “Not really.”

“Ugh,” you groaned.

“What?” he asked, laughing.

“I’m bored,” you exclaimed. “We’re all cooped up, I need to… I need to do something.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he shrugged. “I’m gonna eat my sandwich.”

You sighed hard. “Where’s Dean?”

“Garage. I think he’s washing the cars.”

“All of em?”

“Probably,” he said with a smirk. “Go bother him.”

“Bother him? You think I’m bothering you?”

“Yes.”

You scoffed playfully, hopping off the counter. You started walking away, but made sure to get the last word in.

“One of these days I’ll be long gone and you’re gonna miss me like crazy, Sammy.”

He smiled again, not able to get in a word as you left for the garage.

You heard music playing before you even got to the door, opening it carefully and walking inside. You saw him, soaking the impala in soap and water, just a black t-shirt and jeans.

At least he wasn’t wearing the short-shorts this time.

You let yourself watch him for a few moments, never not in awe as to how someone could look so good in a plain black t-shirt. Eventually you decided to stop creeping on him and headed towards him instead.

“Hey,” he said as soon as he saw you.

“Hey. You need help?” you asked, lingering near the hood as he wiped down the windshield. “And by that I mean, please let me help. I’m dying to do something.”

He smiled, nodding towards the suds-filled bucket.

“Grab a sponge.”

You picked up the other sponge from the bucket, wasting no time in scrubbing down the roof of the car. You both listened to the music, slowly but surely getting every nook and cranny of the vehicle. You were working on one of the back wheel wells when Dean grabbed your attention.

“Hey, trade-off,” he said, tossing a newly-wet sponge in your direction.

Unfortunately for you, he didn’t give enough of a verbal warning. The heavy sponge hit you in the leg, knocking you off your balance and making you land straight on your butt. You opened your mouth in a feigned offense.

“You dick,” you said, laughing lightly.

He laughed at you, not even bothering to help you back up. You scrambled up, slamming the sponge on top of the car and grabbing the hose. You called for him, stopping him from laughing right as you sprayed him with the hose, effectively soaking his shirt.

His eyes went wide, freezing in his motions for a few seconds.

“You little—”

He started after you, not stopping even as you started spraying him again.

“No!” you squealed.

He closed in, grabbing you and effectively trapping you against the car. He wrestled the hose from your hand, turning it on you.

“How do you like it?”

You screamed and laughed, trying to push him off. He was relentless, giggling with glee as he soaked you completely. You reached behind you to get the sponge, wringing it out over his head. Luckily for you, it shocked him enough to get out of his grip. Unluckily for you, he quickly recovered and caught up to you before you could get far.

“You’re not getting away that easy,” he muttered.

He grabbed you from behind as you tried running, pulling you into his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding your arms to your chest. You laughed hard, trying to wriggle away.

“You’re so mean,” you yelled, his grip only tightening.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish,” he said into your ear, clearly proud of himself.

“Whoa,” you heard Sam’s voice. “Should I give you two some privacy?”

You stood up a little straighter, looking in his direction. Dean only slightly loosened his grip.

“We’re washing the car,” you stated as if he didn’t just walk in with fully functional eyes.

He merely quirked a brow. “You two look cleaner than the car.”

“She started it,” Dean said quickly.

You craned your neck to see him behind you, giving him a sour look.

“You threw a sponge at me.”

“You hosed me down.”

Sam nodded slowly, backing out of the room quietly to retreat.

“Not fair,” you said, almost smiling again.

“Very fair,” he stated.

“Let me go,” you laughed.

“No way,” he said, only holding on tighter. “This is your punishment.”

You smirked. “If you really wanted to cuddle this bad, you could’ve just asked, you know?”

“How much you gonna let me ask for?”

“Not much I wouldn’t,” you said, hoping this wasn’t crossing any lines.

He hummed, an obvious smile in his voice, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Apparently, he didn’t care much about a crossed line or two.

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#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester drabble #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff

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raised-u-fr0m-perdition · 2 months

Text

𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎!𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 | 𝟷

Summary: Ivonne Rainer hadn’t met Dean Winchester in 2006 after he was hit by a car. No, this time, this universe, they met in 2010, when the whole Apocalypse deal started and Dean was made leader of one of the only remaining survival camps in America. Little did he know, one random raid would change everything.

A/N - I’m writing this in tandem with the main series, so by the time we get to this point, you’ve got a gist of what’s going on :)

MASTERLIST

SURVIVAL

Dean had been having what was a more than rough day. He’d lost four soldiers in the past week to the Crotes, and he had no Sammy to turn to. No Bobby either, and it killed him. His hand struck the table, a curse leaving his mouth as he did so, bent over and wondering where to hit next.

It had barely been a year since Sam had agreed to Lucifer, saying the big ‘yes’ when he realised that his brother was no longer gonna be there for him. Since then, things were spiralling. Lucifer won. The only immune people were dead and they all turned out as psychos, if you don’t count that Andy kid who didn’t deserve to go out the way he did.

None of them did.

“Damn it.” His eyebrows furrowed in concentration, trying to make heads or tails until he spotted a place they hadn’t covered yet that could be promising. He picked up a marker, circling it haphazardly as he ran a hand through his hair. “Hey, D’Marco!” He yelled out, and one of his men poked his head through.

“Yeah, boss?”

“Rally the squad. We’re hitting Jersey City.”

I jumped over the hood of a car, taking out my machete and swinging as it caught a Croat by the neck, its head thudding to the floor. My eyes glowed red, a metal pole flying up and jabbing straight through the skull of another while I elbowed a third in the neck, going in and shooting point blank.

“God, I hate it here.” I growled, then I got clawed in the arm by one, familiar pain stinging my arm as I shot the assailant in the eye. I’d been fighting my way through this for close to a year, and I’d simply needed to raid the convenience for supplies and I got myself in this blasted mess. “This sucks ass.” I quickly disarmed an approaching Croat with a glow of my eyes and flick of my hand, taking its head and snapping its neck, an animalistic whine, almost like an injured dog, leaving it’s mouth before it flopped like a ragdoll onto the floor, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s a goddamn wasteland out here!” I heard someone yell, followed by rapid gunfire and yells of something that could be pain or stress. I got down before realising it wasn’t aimed at me, so I got back out, immediately pounced on by a Croat that I quickly put down by shooting it. I got up, replacing the clip. I needed to get back to my base and fast, otherwise whoever these guys were could be raiders.

Raiders were asses. They took what they wanted and didn’t care whose lives got lost. It sickened me. I growled under my breath, moving behind a building as I spotted the license plate of a Jeep.

“These are dead Croats, boss. Every last one of them.” A voice called out, followed by footsteps that were made more monstrous by the sound of crunching gravel. “Somebody was out here, killing ‘em.”

“Someone that good? C’mon Joey, be realistic. It has to be another team.” The group chuckled at the joke made by another member of their team, and I frowned in annoyance. I’m sorry, do they see anyone else out here? Actually, they could only see me out here, so it was a given. I peered around the corner, and saw that all of them had their backs to me. I crept up, careful not to crunch on the gravel until I reached the guy at the back, instantly hooking my arm around his neck and yanking him towards me, pressing the muzzle of my gun to his temple.

“Don’t move.” I warned, getting their attention. They spun around with weapons up, but the moment that they saw me with a gun to one of their own, they faltered slightly. “Tell me, who are you? Raiders? Those ragtag asses who think that this is a good thing? Speak up, one of you, now!”

“We’re survivors.” One of them spoke up, his voice gravelly. He looked rougher than the rest of them, his dirty blonde hair up on end in the face of danger and his green eyes stern. “Now let my man go, or I swear to God-”

“You’ll what, tough guy?” I scoffed. “You’ll what?”

“You’ll be dead before you hit the ground.”

“Try me.” I growled, pressing the muzzle tighter to my captive’s head. “I dare you.”

“Pretty thing’s got lip on her.” One man scoffed, but one glare from me shut him up.

“Pretty little thing’s got a gun and one of your men, so better keep your mouth shut.”

“Who even are you?” The gravel-voice dude spoke up, a frown creasing his forehead. I looked him in the eye, my gaze steely.

“None of your damn business.” I replied aggressively, my finger tightening on the trigger.“Who’s askin’?”

“Dean Winchester, now let my soldier go, damnit!” I put the gun down, releasing his teammate as I decided that these guys could be ok. Then his teammate spotted the claw cut on my arm, and all hell broke loose.

“SHE’S INFECTED!” He yelled, and as all of them raised their guns to shoot me, I held out my hands in surrender, panic striking me for a moment.

“WOAH, HOLD ON, I’M IMMUNE!” I shouted, panting heavily. “I’M IMMUNE, OK?! I’m… clean.”

“You’d need to be some psychic freak in order to be immune.” Dean Winchester frowned, stepping forward and raising his gun, pointing it at me. “What kind are you? Actually, I shouldn’t even be asking that, cause all the psychic jackasses turned out to be whacked out of their gourds. What says you ain’t?”

“This entire graveyard is my doin’.” I reasoned, gesturing to the Croat’s bodies. “All me. I don’t know how I got my powers and why, but I’ll tell you one thing for damn sure and it’s that it’s kept me alive out here.” I paused to chuckle nervously. “Look, restrain me if you have the stuff to, but there’s no way in hell I’m stayin’ out here.” They took a moment to think, then Winchester pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his utility belt. My eyebrows twitched, a small smirk on my face as he did so. “Damn, you have them on you, you kinky son of a-”

“Put them on.” He ordered while handing them over, his gun pointing to the cuffs then back to my face. I scoffed, laughing a bit as I clasped it over one wrist.

“Chivalry is dead, I see.” I snapped it over the other wrist, then held my bound wrists up for the other men. “Mysterious girl, bound so she can’t hurt you guys. What a relief. Now, uh, are we gonna book it or what?” I was promptly taken by the arm by Winchester, but I snatched my arm out of his grip with a grimace. “I can do it myself, we have no need for the manhandling type of chivalry.” I stepped up onto the Jeep, flopping down onto a seat as the rest of them got in. Winchester sat down in front of me, gun trained on me by chance I made a move. “Chill, Manchurian Candidate, I’m not gonna bust the spirit of Chuck Norris out and start kicking your ass on a moving car while handcuffed, I’m not stupid.”

He just stared at me.

“Alright, we’re gonna keep doin’ this until you give me a name, you hear me?” Winchester growled, and I shrugged, leaning back against my chair.

“And I think we’ll be here a while. Screw. You.” I retorted, obviously aggravating him as he ran a hand through his hair, glaring back at me.

“I told you my name, why won’t you tell me yours?!”

“I can’t trust you!”

“I saved your ass!”

“Oh, hell no, I saved my ass.” I scoffed. “Like I have been since this thing started. You’d have blown my head off otherwise.” He opened his mouth to contradict, but I shot him a look. “Don’t lie to me, I know what people look like when they’re on the verge of killin’ someone. How do I know? I see that goddamn face every day, sometimes in the mirror. M’not that easy to fool, Winchester.” I chuckled cynically, shaking my head. “Idjit.”

The look on his face changed, and he picked up his gun and held it to my forehead. “Where did you get that?!”

“The hell is wrong with you-”

He grabbed my face with one hand, forcing it up roughly. “WHERE DID YOU HEAR THAT?!”

“My uncle used to say it, goddamn it!” I snapped. “I don’t know where he is, but we were separated in Sioux Falls.”

“Bobby.” Winchester whispered, and quickly let go of my chin, swallowing and looking away. “You’re Ivonne Rainer.”

“Not even gonna apologise?” I scoffed. “Well, I figured you wouldn’t.”

“He talked about you. Bobby.” He scanned me for a moment with something close to bitterness. “My dad did too. John Winchester. Came home one day when I was fifteen talking about the daughter of his hunting partner Michael Rainer, who’d showed up on a vamp hunt to help exterminate a nest in Louisiana. Bobby said you were one of the best hunters he’d known. That you?”

“Sounds like me.” I nodded. “John Winchester, yeah, I remember him. Real pompous ass.”

“Watch what comes out of that mouth of yours.”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“At this point, you’re askin’ to be slapped.”

“But you won’t.” I smirked, obviously provoking him further. He got up close in my face, teeth gritted.

“I will not hesitate to put a bullet through your brain, you hear me? You’re just one more arrogant dumbass, you don’t mean anything to me. Besides, how’re you planning to fight back? You ain’t in no state to fight, not cuffed, so cut the attitude.”

“Might want to rethink that last statement.” I held up my hands, showing that I was free as the cuffs dropped from my wrists. He stared at the fallen handcuffs, shocked as I sharply pushed him back, standing up and rubbing the chafed skin where the cuffs once were. “What, think I can’t handle myself?” I tilted my head, smirking a bit. Then my gaze went to his gun, and my eyes glowed blue, the clip falling out as I flicked my hand down and zooming into my hand. Winchester stared at me again, his eyes flicking back to his gun occasionally as he tried to process what I’d just done. “Look, man, I ain’t no psycho. If I wanted to hurt you, I would have, no questions asked.”

“You spared me?” He scoffed, looking disbelieving.

“Bet your ass I did.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Then don’t.” I shrugged, looking him in the eye. “Cause I don’t give a damn whether you do or not. I care about survivin’. Actually livin’. And me being honest, I’m one of the last people left on earth who can actually protect all of you.”

“I just need you to stay out of my goddamn way.” He growled, fists clenched.

“Then… fine.” I raised my hands in mock surrender as I started retreating to the flap. “Like I said, don’t give a damn.” I dropped the clip of his gun, leaving.

Dean stared the spot where I just was, his teeth gritted before he slammed the table, yelling out.

“DAMN IT!”

#dean winchester #supernatural #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #spn #dean winchester x oc #spn masterlist #dean winchester x you #supernatural oc #endverse

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ofthecaravel · 1 month

Text

Heaven In Time

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Am I A Con Man Or A Brother?

Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Summary: A year or so after meeting, Sam and Danny are on the road again and hope to get through Sam's home state of Alabama with no trouble. Easy enough, right?

Tags: Religious trauma, hella guilt tripping/mentions of religious upbringing, Fighting, sauciness but no outright smut, healthy ass relationship

Words: 5.6k

A/N: Welcome back! Sorry! Let me know what you think. Chap 3 is in progress 👀 Also this is kinda random but would any of y'all be interested in a playlist for this fic? Do people still do that?

“You gonna be good while I go in?”

“Ye of little faith.”

“You, mister, of chatting mouth and wayfaring legs.”

“Since when do you complain about my legs? You didn’t seem to mind ‘em when they were over your sh-”

“Hey now, hey now, okay. What did I just say about behaving yourself? Jesus Christ.”

Sam laughed brashly as he hopped up on the hood of the truck and made a show of crossing his legs with an angelic smile. Danny, standing over Sam with a firm grasp on his chin, rolled his eyes with the beginnings of a smile spreading over his tan face. It had turned out that Danny’s initial baseless accusations of Sam’s rebellious attitude had proven to be mostly accurate, with the only difference being that Sam’s tendency to wander around fell more on the side of striking up friendships with random strangers and impeding their errands schedule rather than picking fights with vagrants and ending up in the back of sketchy white vans. Over the last year they’d spent on the road, Sam’s increasing confidence and grasp on individuality had given him a smart mouth and big opinions. Gone were the days of the meek, awkward preacher’s son with a guilty conscience that sat on his chest like a rock. Now he stood tall with a proud demeanor and, more often than not, in cut off denim shorts with a cigarette hanging from his bitten lips.

Sam settled on the hood in that same fashion then, pulling a cigarette from the pack bulging in the front pocket of his tiny shorts and sticking it in his mouth, pleadingly pushing it out towards Danny with a calculated batting of his lashes to get the point across. Danny rolled his eyes again but quickly pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit it up, secretly very pleased to be the one to dote on Sam. Despite Sam’s drastic change in personality making him a far cry from the dusty hitchhiker Danny had picked up back in Texas, Danny’s affection only grew as the months passed them by. It was weird for him to look back on how this trip had begun: alone and directionless, setting off from his family farm in Florida with no one at his side. Sometimes when they were driving, Danny found it hard to recall a time without Sam’s passenger side chatter. How did he get as far as Texas without it? Silence was distressing to him now. Still, he found great fun in requesting it of Sam.

“Just stay here and be quiet,” Danny requested with faux exasperation. “I’m only gonna be in there for a few minutes for snacks and paying for gas and the bathroom. I don’t want to come out to you preaching to your huddled masses like that time in Santa Ana.”

“I know,” Sam whined. “How many times do I have to tell you those guys came up to me?”

“Watch your tone,” Danny whispered as he leaned in, his grasp returning to Sam’s jaw. “What you should know is that I want to get us through Alabama as fast as possible, okay? For you, Sammy, remember that.”

“Yeah,” Sam grumbled, removing the cigarette from his lips with a guilty frown. “I do know. Sorry, daddy.”

Sam batted his lashes again and watched Danny’s face flicker at his words. It was a cheap trick, but it certainly didn’t hurt to slip in Danny’s favorite nickname every once in a while to win his favor in a matter of seconds.

“It’s okay,” Danny instantly assured him, melting like he always did at the title Sam had appointed him. It only ever trickled into their daytime conversations when Sam was being truly appreciative. He gave Sam a quick kiss before letting him go and taking a step towards the gas station itself.

“5 minutes max, I promise.”

“Go already,” Sam grinned, waving with a royal flourish as Danny tossed him a wink and went through the chiming doors of the gas station, leaving Sam to take a drag from his cigarette and watch its smoke unfurl into the clear sky above. It was a still, sweltering summer day, the kind of familiar weather that kept Sam aware of their presence in his home state. There was no way to get to their destination of Danny’s Floridian hometown without going through Alabama, which Sam kept swearing up and down would be no issue to him, despite the both of them knowing that Sam would no doubt have at least one instance of grief. So far he was having no problems, and as he absently bounced his shoe and closed his eyes against the comforting sun, Sam started to actually feel optimistic.

After a minute, Sam became aware of the creeping feeling that he was being watched. With his eyes closed it felt unfounded, but when gut instinct and a rolling chill over his otherwise sweaty skin told him to peek and assess his surroundings, he realized that he had good reason for it.

Outside the gas station standing on the ledge of sidewalk facing the last pump was a young man dressed in a short sleeved, cream colored button down staring directly at Sam. His features were blurry because of the distance and because Sam only had one eye open to assess him, but Sam could see that he had his dark, shoulder length hair pulled into a neat, low ponytail and that he grasped a stack of pamphlets in his hands. This tidy, modest appearance hit a little too close to home for Sam and he scowled remembering when something similar used to be his daily attire. Danny had joked about Sam’s preaching, but he and his brothers really did used to stand on sidewalk corners like the guy in front of him now, waving their hands and crying out with adolescent passion. His scowl deepened and he closed his eyes.

Great, Sam thought in annoyance, pursing his lips against his cigarette. Rookie mistake to actually make eye contact with the guy. Now he’s gonna be over here any minute now asking me about my relationship with God. That’s gotta be the last thing I wanna think about right now. No, thank you.

Another few minutes passed and the creeping unease remained in the pit of Sam’s stomach and kept his ears perked uncomfortably. With an irritated sigh, he opened his eyes again and saw that, sure enough, the sidewalk preacher was still staring him down. He had even moved up a couple pumps, now only a few feet away from Sam. Doing his best not to look at the guy, Sam groaned and slid off the hood of the car, flicking his cigarette onto the pavement and crushing it under the rubber sole of his Converse. The man took this as an opportunity to hastily approach. Sam couldn’t help but give a theatrical sigh at the sight, leaning his head back to stare at the sky for another moment as a last ditch effort to ground himself before the inevitable nonsense.

He must have seen me and Danny, Sam concluded mentally. And now he’s here to save my soul from our sinful ways. Whoopee.

“Listen, man, I don’t want any trouble,” Sam started, already frustrated. “I know the spiel, okay? God didn’t work for me, it’s nothing personal.”

“Sammy?”

Sam’s head immediately jerked forward to properly face the man in front of him. In an instant, he was drowned in cold and felt his knees threaten to buckle. He struggled not to disassociate, breathing urgently through his nose as his lips shut and refused to part.

How could he have stared right into this face and not seen who it was in an instant? There was no else whose voice would crack with such specific inflection over his nickname; a nickname never given freely, mind you.

The round brown eyes constantly shadowed from worry and late night prayer. The combed dark hair and disciplined posture.

It was Jake, his brother, a thousand times over.

“Sammy,” Jake repeated. He sounded worn down and nearly pleading, seemingly just as baffled as Sam about seeing his brother before him.

Sam couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. His thoughts were thick with shame and gave no more room for that last little spark of hope that he could make it through Alabama unscathed. All he could do was gawk at Jake, who gawked right back at him with what he knew was a near identical expression to his own. He had always felt he existed as some warped mirror of Jake, and here he was, pressed up against the glass yet again when he thought he’d shattered it long ago.

“What are you doing here?” Sam whispered. With their hometown miles out from the provincial rest stop they were at, Sam was becoming increasingly convinced that Jake’s presence was a mirage brought on by the heat.

“What are you doing here?” Jake countered. His eyes were wild and darted over Sam head to toe. A hand came up to grasp his forehead, a nervous tic that Sam remembered (of course) and found oddly comforting to see after all this time.

“Gas,” Sam answered dumbly. It was true, but obviously not the answer Jake was looking for. Sam felt close to tears in a manner of seconds when hurt flashed over Jake’s face, clearly from Sam’s cold brevity and…well, everything.

“So, you have a car now?”

“I-”

“Come on, babe, what’d I say? No mingling!”

Sam had hardly registered the crisp bell of the gas station doors cheerily bursting open, revealing Danny with an armful of beers and wrapped sandwiches. He wore a bright smile as he usually did when he was with Sam, and Sam watched helplessly as it fell at the sight of Sam’s face painted with frozen desperation. Never taking his eyes off of Sam, Danny set his treasures down on his seat through the truck’s open window and was at Sam’s side in a second, a protective hand already up to shove Jake back if need be.

“Can I help you, man?” Danny asked curtly, glaring down at Jake with his dark eyebrows furrowed menacingly.

“Who is this guy?” Jake asked Sam in an amused tone, as if he truly couldn’t believe that Sam would go anywhere near Danny. When Jake had known him, it would have been a fair assumption for him to make, but now there was nothing further from the truth.

“Who are you?” Danny shot right back, adjusting to stand partly in front of Sam. His shield and sword all rolled into one. Sam felt grateful for his protection but knew it was unnecessary.

“Danny, this is, uh, my brother,” Sam introduced nervously, putting a hand on his bare arm and giving it a calming squeeze. “Jake, this is Danny.”

Jake held out a polite hand for Danny to shake, which he obliged with a mistrustful squint of his hazel eyes. In Sam’s stories about his childhood, Jake had never really been the enemy in any of them, save for silly childhood disputes. But his compliance never made him a hero either, and Sam knew that Danny was recalling all he could remember of Sam’s brothers from the rude way he pulled his hand back from the handshake. Jake didn’t appear to care at all, turning his gaze on Sam once more with a weak laugh.

“Have you been here this whole time?” Jake asked. “We read your note, of course, but forgive me for beginning to think the worst had happened when there was absolutely no trace of you anywhere. Mom started reading the news all the way up in Montgomery just in case there was mention of you.”

“No, uh, I’ve been traveling,” Sam explained, incapable of making eye contact. “Mostly stuck to the Southern states, but, yeah. We’re actually not staying, we’re headed to Danny's place in Florida right now.”

“Wow,” Jake remarked blankly, nodding thoughtfully. “Okay. We, huh?”

“Danny was kind enough to pick me up in Texas,” Sam clarified, nodding towards Danny. “We’ve stuck together since then.”

“Somebody had to keep him safe,” Danny said in a clipped voice, looking Jake up and down with an accusatory glare. Jake continued to not acknowledge Danny’s obvious distaste for him and pressed onwards. He gave another nod that turned into a disbelieving shake of the head.

“How in the world did you get to Texas with no ride? I have about a million questions, Sammy, forgive me for my impatience. I mean, for starters, you look…”

Jake gestured vaguely to Sam’s bare bones outfit composed of a maroon band tee more suited to Danny’s frame than his (which made sense, considering it was Danny’s), meaning it fell so low it almost entirely covered Sam’s very short shorts. It was a standard outfit for him now, but the last time Jake had seen Sam, he’d been dressed in something nearly identical to the outfit Jake wore, complete with the long tweed pants in the blistering heat. Sam’s hair, kept long to compliment his newfound appreciation for his androgynous features and to serve as something extra for Danny to pull when they were caught up in motel bedroom devotions, was pulled into low frizzy pigtails that Jake no doubt found bizarre.

For the first time in a long time, Sam began to feel self conscious.

“Different?” Sam asked, putting a hand on his hip. “Is that cool with you?”

“I…of course, it’s just…definitely different,” Jake agreed, a hint of venom finally tinting his words. “I hoped maybe you’d gone off to, you know, spread the good word, but I can tell from your outf-”

“You wouldn’t have thought that if you’d actually read my note like you said you did. You know why I left, Jake.”

“Were things really so terrible?” Jake prodded, his condescending tone now entirely betraying his bright attitude. “So horribly bad that you just had to leave behind your entire family who has done nothing but love you, just by the way, and an entire church that you had responsibility in? I can’t think of a single person in Shady Grove that doesn’t pray for you each and every day. I can tell you didn’t have faith in us, Sam, but we had faith in you. Still do.”

“I wasn’t happy,” Sam hissed, tears finally stinging his eyes as he stepped forward and got in his brother’s face, still clinging to Danny’s arm as he waited for his chance to intervene. “Nobody listened to me! Or, yeah, maybe I didn’t speak up enough, but even if I did, you all would’ve just heard what you wanted to hear.”

“Come to dinner, Sammy,” Jake begged, putting a hand on Sam’s shoulder with a firm grip. “Come to my place. I won’t even tell Mom and Dad, but you’ve got to see Josh, at least. He talks about you in every single sermon, he-”

“You’re not listening,” Sam groaned defeatedly, flushing hot with frustration and humiliation. He felt Danny’s anxious eyes on him while his brother’s thick skull and saccharine words regressed Sam into a childlike tantrum. Jake shook his head as if it weren’t true, as if Sam was behaving completely out of line. That was something Sam really did hate about his brother sometimes; he could make him feel so stupid for nothing at all.

“Why can’t you ever admit that there are things about home that don’t work?” Sam raged on. “Just ‘cause they work for you doesn’t mean they work for me. I had to go, Jake. I, I have to go.”

“Let’s go,” Danny urged, his voice uncharacteristically cool and tense. “Ready when you are.”

“I’m ready,” Sam snarled, glaring at Jake one more time before turning on his heel and stomping to the side door. Jake followed with a frustrated huff through his nose, grabbing Sam’s wrist and yanking him so hard he stumbled.

“I love you, Sam,” Jake said firmly, passion flashing in his amber eyes. “That’s why I’m tough on you, okay? Mom and Dad love you. Josh loves you. Come home.”

“No,” Sam barked, pulling his wrist away. “Get off, Jake, I’m fucking leaving.”

Jake stood and watched Sam climb into the passenger side and slam the door, pointedly staring through the windshield and ignoring his fuming brother as Danny hurriedly tossed the food and drink from his seat into the back. Jake smacked his palm against the door and won Sam’s attention again, who now saw that Jake’s furious expression had begun to devolve into tears.

“So, that’s it? That’s all you got to say?” Jake cried. “So high and mighty you can’t even say you love us anymore?”

“Of course I love you, stupid!” Sam yelled, grabbing an empty plastic water bottle out of the cup holder and smacking it on Jake’s head. “I just can’t love you here!”

Jake grabbed the water bottle out of Sam’s hand and tossed it right back at him, ducking when Sam fully threw it through the window. Jake crouched out of Sam’s reach as he pulled a pen out of his pocket and scribbled something urgently on one of his many disheveled pamphlets. Despite Sam’s flurry of smacking hands, Jake managed to shove it through the window and onto Sam’s lap.

“That’s the address and that’s what time I’ll have dinner on the table,” Jake explained, his teary eyes flashing as he pointed at the pamphlet with vigor. “There will be two places set for you and your, your Danny, and I really hope to see you both!”

“I really hope you like disappointment!” Sam hollered, heart hammering like a jackrabbit as he and Jake launched into a new round of arguing.

Unable to stand back and watch anymore, Danny rolled up Sam’s window for him and finally began to pull out of the gas station. Jake yelled something as they sped out of the lot, and Sam let out a frustrated scream in response. He was unable to look back at his brother, instead electing to fold at the waist and let out another muffled scream against his bare legs.

Danny, frazzled from the sibling explosion that had just set off in front of his eyes, was honestly unsure on what the hell to do. He settled for a soothing hand on Sam’s back, rubbing calming circles and asking Sam to breathe and settle down in the most serene voice he could manage. Sam listened and managed to subdue his roaring need to shriek out his frustrations, but he stayed crumpled over with his head between his thighs. As always, Sam’s complete and utter silence was a million times worse to Danny, and he debated whether or not to ask him something just to get both their minds on a new track.

“So, you wanna go to that dinner, or…?”

Yeah, Danny regretted that the second it left his mouth.

Sam’s silence persisted and Danny swallowed nervously, trying to appreciate the sparse scenery that surrounded the highway so that his brain had something else to do.

5 entire minutes passed without Sam saying anything, which was probably the longest he had ever gone in the year Danny had traveled with him. He was never this quiet, not even in his sleep. But frankly, Danny couldn’t blame him. Danny’s heart broke for Sam, and he bit back regretful tears thinking of how he should’ve just stepped between them and pulled Sam into the truck before Jake got a chance to say anything at all. After another excruciating minute, he figured there wasn’t much use in spiraling, so Danny decided to pull over on the side of the empty road and turn off the truck.

“What can I do to help you, Sam?” Danny asked in a hushed voice, his hand returning to Sam’s back and tilting his head to try and catch a glimpse of Sam’s face.

Sam thought for a second, sniffling wetly before finally turning from the valley of his legs to miserably look up at Danny. Danny’s heart sank at the sight of his lashes heavy with tears and his nose and cheeks painted poppy red.

“I don’t know,” Sam muttered, throat scratchy from exertion. “Take me out behind the barn and shoot me.”

“Sam,” Danny sighed at his dramatics, reaching over Sam’s head to click open the glove box and pull out a clean handkerchief. He presented it to Sam, who made no move to grab it, so he rested it on top of his head with a little smile.

“Thanks,” Sam mumbled, still unmoving and sniffing pathetically. His gaze was blank and defeated and his face was still dotted with tears, which Danny lovingly swept away with a curled knuckle.

“That was a lot,” Danny commented steadily, still trying to pry a productive conversation out of the ever stubborn Sam. “Definitely wouldn’t have picked that station if I had known your people would be anywhere near it.”

“He really shouldn’t have been,” Sam complained. “Shady Grove is, like, 10 miles out closer to the coast. But it’s not completely unheard of for him to go to the most random fucking places for his sidewalk preaching. Divine timing, I guess. Great.”

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Danny whispered, mirroring Sam’s posture as best he could to try and meet Sam’s eye. When he did, Sam’s bottom lip quivered and he clasped a hand over his face, letting out an exasperated groan that filled the entire cabin of the truck.

“I’m so sorry,” Sam apologized, his voice shaking with frustration. “You shouldn’t have had to see me like that. Fuck, he just makes me so crazy, it’s like I don’t even know what happens.”

“Don’t apologize,” Danny insisted, running his fingers along the soft hair at Sam’s temples to try and ground him. “He came at you pretty hard. I know he’s your brother and everything, but if you gave me the go ahead, I would’ve knocked him upside the head with the way he was talking to you.”

“I wish you had,” Sam grumbled. There was a sore pang when he said it, and Sam found himself falling quiet and staring into space again. “But, like…”

Danny had spent enough time with Sam to feel confident in his ability to read his mind, and from the mournful, longing glaze over Sam’s eyes, he made an educated guess as to where Sam’s head was at.

“But, like…you still kinda want to go to dinner tonight?” Danny asked, attempting to finish Sam’s sentence.

Sam let out another theatrical groan and answered by gently banging his forehead against the pamphlet on his lap, which doubled as a nod in the affirmative. Despite the anxiety that the prospect of a dinner with Sam’s brothers stirred in Danny’s chest, he was happy to do whatever it took to get Sam through the night without trying to throw himself out of the truck.

“Yeah, okay, we’ll do that,” Danny assured him, brushing his fingers against Sam’s flushed cheek. “And the second you say we need to go, we’ll go. Does that sound good?”

“Mmhm,” Sam hummed against the paper.

Danny watched Sam’s dejected body language for another minute before taking action again. With a quick jerk of the reclining lever, he laid his seat back and scooted until he was sitting in the backseat. After landing with a bounce on the leather, Danny shifted the beers and sandwiches once again while Sam sat up and gave him a quizzical look.

“What?” Sam asked simply, a confused smile very slowly seeping into his expression as Danny settled in the middle of the backseat and opened up his arms.

“Someone needs a hug,” Danny determined, beckoning Sam into his lap with a cheeky grin.

“You are so goddamn corny,” Sam whined. Despite his rolling eyes, he quickly scrambled out of his seat and clumsily landed in Danny’s embrace. Danny’s arms wrapped around him in an instant and Sam unraveled completely at the comfort, throwing his arms around Danny’s neck as he sank into his broad chest and nuzzled against Danny’s freckled shoulder. Danny held him tight and pressed kisses to the crown of Sam’s head as he felt the erratic cadence of Sam’s heart beating against his own begin to even out into a stable thrum.

“Feeling a little better?” Danny asked tentatively. Sam replied with a muffled hum against his skin and Danny laughed, smoothing the loose hairs that had escaped Sam’s pigtails and were waving wildly in the humidity. Sam pressed a kiss to his shoulder and Danny let out a happy hum of his own. Danny gave one of Sam’s pigtails a gentle tug to tilt his head back and met him halfway, closing his eyes with a smile that he pressed against Sam’s already puckered lips. While they got caught up in a lazy kiss, Danny carefully worked to slide the elastics from Sam’s hair and combed through his impressive tresses with his long fingers. Sam sighed into Danny’s mouth at the relaxing sensation, cupping Danny’s face and slipping his tongue into the equation while Danny indulged in a smug smile.

“I feel better,” Sam finally admitted, giggling when Danny mapped a trail of kisses from his jaw down his neck. “Much better, actually.”

“Yeah? You feel as good as you did last night?” Danny purred against his neck, grinning and bearing his teeth against his skin when Sam scoffed. Danny had found that this was another surefire way to keep Sam’s mind out of a dark place; tease the hell out of him.

“Danny!” Sam squealed, batting his shoulders and squirming in his lap. “Shut up!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, who was the one talking about legs over shoulders no less than an hour ago?”

“I-”

“It was definitely you.”

“Hearsay!” Sam laughed. “Tell it to my lawyer.”

When Danny lifted his head from his throat to smile at him, he could see the rosy glow had already returned to Sam’s face. Danny’s heart fluttered at the thought that he could be the person to do that to someone, much less someone as wholly deserving of joy as Sam.

“You wanna hear something funny?” Sam chuckled while Danny leaned back against the leather seat, one hand on Sam’s waist and the other still fussing with his hair.

“Hm?”

“We didn’t even get gas.”

Danny froze and blinked blankly.

“...Fuck, you’re right!”

Sam’s raucous laugh filled the truck as Danny shifted and looked out the back window, staring longingly at the pump somewhere in the distance behind them despite it being entirely out of his sight.

“Damn. There goes my 15 bucks,” Danny grumbled.

“You only put 15 bucks on the pump? Cheap bitch.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you have anything you’d like to contribute to the gas fund? Or would you like to keep dipping your sticky little fingers into it and spending it on cigarettes and cotton candy?”

“Absolutely,” Sam smiled triumphantly. “I mean, worse comes to worse, we can always stop in some seedy little town and get me a job working the pole. We’d have gas money for a year.”

“Fuck no,” Danny blurted. Sam cackled again when Danny bulged his eyes at the idea, his grip subconsciously tightening on his waist. “No, no, absolutely not.”

“Jealous?” Sam flirted, tapping the tip of Danny’s nose and winking. He rolled his hips as if he were straddling a stripper pole and Danny let out a suffocated groan at the sensation. Not allowing himself to dive into the salacious imagery Sam had conjured, Danny used his leverage on Sam’s hips to hold him still.

“No, Sam, I’m super into the idea of you being half naked on stage in front of a bunch of podunk perverts,” Danny replied sarcastically, swatting his ass. “Of course I’m jealous, you little shit.”

“Well, you don’t have to be, ‘cause I’d never,” Sam cooed, clearly still delighted by Danny’s knee jerk reaction. “You know damn well I’m all yours.”

“Yeah, you are,” Danny hummed, chasing another kiss and mumbling against Sam’s lips. “And you know damn well you’re safe as long as you’re with me, right?”

“Since the day we met,” Sam confirmed, heart fluttering and racing as he recalled the first time he’d seen Danny. This was something he did almost every night to soothe himself to sleep, a practice that had replaced the psalm recitations he’d done for years after he steadily found them less and less effective at calming him. He’d picture Danny, nothing short of drop dead gorgeous in a ratty flannel and his combed out curls pulled into a ponytail, with his head tilted to the side as he regarded Sam and his pathetic little suitcase. Frozen in place, Sam’s thumb had stayed pointing up in the air for a beat too long as he assessed the amusing contrast of the gorgeous stranger in such a beat up hunk of junk. In the same way that something had urged Danny to drive through the thoroughfare in the first place, something had given Sam complete assurance that if he got into the truck with this total stranger, it would be the start of his life as opposed to the end.

Despite the fact that they were far from being on speaking terms, Sam couldn’t help but thank God for it.

“Good,” Danny smiled. “Remember, the second you want out tonight, we’re outta there. You call the shots.”

“Don’t I always?”

Danny raised an eyebrow at Sam and Sam smiled with faux innocence, tucking a strand of hair behind Danny’s ear while Danny sighed fondly. Without the other knowing, both of them felt a sudden urge to tell the other one something. Something that had been on both of their minds for a long time. While it didn’t really need to be confirmed when the time they spent together spoke volumes about how they felt, it still had yet to be said. But Danny was worried Sam was a little too vulnerable at the moment to process the impact it might have, and Sam was worried Danny wouldn’t say it back, so they let the next few minutes pass with quiet chatting and kissing instead. Not that they could complain about that.

“What time is it?” Danny eventually asked, answering his own question by looking over Sam’s shoulder at the radio’s clock. “4:30ish? How long do you reckon it’ll take to get to Jake’s?”

“Only like 20 minutes if we backtrack and take some shortcuts,” Sam explained. “I’ll be our fearless navigator, of course.”

“That’ll be a first,” Danny muttered, which earned him a light slap on the arm. “Well, shit, what should we do for an hour? Anything fun to do in glorious Baldwin county, Mr. Navigator?”

Sam stared off into space for a moment, seemingly deep in thought as his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pushed out into a focused pout. However, when Sam’s eyes eventually fell on the space between their bodies and his eyebrow arched suggestively, Danny realized that he had fallen for an act.

“Unbelievable,” Danny groaned as Sam smiled flirtatiously and pawed at his belt. “I thought maybe you knew some roadside attractions nearby we could go to. I should’ve known better.”

“I mean, we’re already back here,” Sam purred, sliding a hand up the front of Danny’s muscle tee. “And no one’s driven by since we pulled over.”

“Unbelievable,” Danny repeated, shaking his head slightly but obliging entirely when Sam’s lips found his and his hands made quick work of pulling off Danny’s shirt.

This reckless nerve and seeming insatiability was one of many side effects of Sam’s newfound confidence. Ever since that inciting night at the motel where Sam had stayed under Danny until the sun came up and writhed nonstop from nothing more than kisses and hands on his hips, he had become hopelessly addicted to Danny’s touch. It was fully Danny’s fault for indulging him as often as he did, but he really had tried to take it as slow as he possibly could. Danny knew that Sam had no prior experience and very little knowledge of the body when it came to the pleasure it could provide, and he had wanted to give him a low stakes, enjoyable education.

However, this had become increasingly more difficult when he found Sam crawling into his lap time and time again with professedly innocent questions, all of which were whispered into his ear with hot breath that sent chills down his spine. Sam had insisted on hands-on demonstrations and begged so sweetly, which made it nearly impossible for Danny to continue the patient pace he had planned for him. This eventually cultivated in a “celebration” their first night in Los Angeles where Danny had caved entirely and awarded Sam his sacrament. He’d crossed the line between the divine and the Earth, called Sam his little lamb, and awoke the next morning with Sam’s head on his chest and his virginity (however conceptual that may be) locked up safe in the parts of his mind reserved for the most sacred sentiments. Deep down, Danny knew he’d be trying in vain for the rest of his days trying to replicate the ecstasy of truly feeling Sam for the first time. Fingernails dug so deep in his biceps he’d emerged with a single crescent moon scar, Sam’s hips bucking to accommodate Danny’s stuttering push into him, a pounding fist on the wall from outraged neighbors being drowned out from the rattle of the bedposts…that was a high Danny was going to chase to no avail. But he was more than happy to try.

Plus, how could he ever say no to Sam? Maybe someday he’d regret letting Sam get whatever he wanted, but from the way Sam looked unbuttoning his jeans with his rosy bottom lip tucked triumphantly between his teeth, Danny was pretty sure regret was the last thing he was feeling.

They were in for a hell of a night, so why not get as close to heaven before then?

Taglist: @holdingup-fallingsky @milojames16 @spark-my-nature

#oooooooh the plot #oh the plot of it all #gvf #greta van fleet #danny wagner #sam kiszka #sanny gvf #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van art #karoufiction

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