#And then he sleeps on the hood of your car cause the engine's warm and now you have to call in sick to work also your hood is crushed.

[yesthefandomfreakblr]

Ripred is not above being a sugar baby but he'd be a really shitty one.

[superbadassnatural]

Mirth Motel

Summary: Y/N desperately needs her beauty sleep. After lots of begging and attempts at the perfect puppy-dog-eyes, she finally convinces Dean to stop at a motel. Square filled: only one bed Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 2,188 Warnings: mostly fluff I guess, some funny bits, flirting, lots of eye rolls A/N: Surprisingly, I had never written this trope before! I’m not gonna lie, I had fun writing it. This fills my square for @spndeanbingo.

(x)

“Please,” you pouted, batting your eyelashes. Dean averted his eyes from the road to look at you. “Pretty please.”

“I'm gonna kill Sam for teaching the puppy-dog-eye thing,” he rolled his eyes.

“Is it working? Who does it better?” you wiggled your eyebrows excitedly.

“Sam’s been doing this his whole life; he had years of practice. Of course, he does it better,” he pointed out. “Sam looks like a kicked golden retriever puppy, and you-” he chuckled. “- you look like an angry chihuahua pretending to be sad, so you can go to the dog park and scare all the dogs away.”

“I've always wanted to be a chihuahua.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know,” it was your time to roll your eyes. “C’mon, Dean, there's a motel in a few miles. We can crash there. I'm tired. I desperately need my beauty sleep and my feet hurt and I need out of these uncomfortable clothes.”

“Well, my head hurts from hearing you ramble, but I'm not complaining, am I?” he glanced at you, pursing his lips.

“It's late and it's raining. Do you really want to put Baby through this rain? I bet she's cold.”

“Nah, she likes it when it rains. She thinks it's romantic,” his lips pulled up into an asymmetric grin. “If you want to, you can go into the backseat, change into your pjs and get some of your beauty sleep. I promise I won't look while you change. Unless you ask me to.”

“Dean, c’mon.”

“If I pull up at the motel and we crash there for the night, will you stop whining?”

“I'll never whine again for the rest of my life. Cross my heart.”

“Hey, careful there.”

“Please,” you batted your eyelashes. “Do it for me. I know that, deep down in that cold heart of yours, you love me.”

“Okay,” he sighed. “You won.”

“Have I mentioned you are the bestest friend in the world?” you grinned.

“Nope.”

“Well, you are the bestest friend in the world.”

Dean drove for a few more miles. The rain cracked on the hood of the Impala. The sound was relaxing and lulling. The neon sign greeted you, and Dean turned left to head into the parking lot.

“Really? Mirth Motel? What kind of name is that?” he grunted.

“I don’t know, Dean,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “At this point, I couldn't care less about the name of the motel. As long as it has beds and a shower, it's fine by me.”

Dean took a few turns in the parking lot, struggling to find a spot he could park his car.

“Oh for fucks sake, everyone decided to stay here tonight?”

“Stop complaining,” you nearly whined.

“There isn't a single spot where I can park Baby. There better be a room available for us.”

“Stop being so grumpy. There's a space available right there.”

“Where?”

“There!”

“Thanks,” he huffed.

“You're welcome,” you pouted.

Dean parked the car, cutting off the engine. He sighed and glanced at you.

“We’re far away from the entry,” he pointed out. “There's no way to get inside without getting ourselves wet.”

“Fine by me,” you shrugged. “As long as I get to take a shower as soon as I step foot in there, it's okay.”

“Okay.”

You and Dean climbed out of the car quickly with duffle bags over your shoulders. You made a beeline to the entrance of the building, the rain mercilessly pouring down on you. Dean immediately went to the front desk, some of his wet hair stuck to his forehead. You took a few steps back, grabbing your phone and deciding to text Sam to let him know you had made a stop at a motel.

“Two queens, please,” Dean smiled at the old lady behind the counter. She nodded and checked on the system.

“I’m sorry, dear, we don’t have any room available with two queen-sized beds,” she offered him a sympathetic smile. “But we do have a room that will settle you for the night just fine.”

“Okay,” Dean frowned as the woman handed him the keys with a smirk. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“You’re welcome, dear. It's on the second floor. Have fun,” she wiggled her eyebrows.

Dean turned to you with wide eyes. You glanced up from your phone.

“All good?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Got it.”

“Great. Shall we?”

Dean gave a short nod and led the way.

“Dude, we’ve been to a lot of crappy motels, but this one takes the cake,” he mumbled as you climbed up the stairs. “Why the hell couldn’t I just park the car and get in a room like every other motel?”

“I don’t know, Dean, but complaining won’t make any difference,” you chided. “And we’re gonna stay here for less than twelve hours. We’re gonna be on the road first thing in the morning, so please, just stop complaining, or I’ll smack your head in the wall.”

“Fine,” he rolled his eyes.

Dean twisted the key in the lock, swinging the door open. He stepped inside, flicking on the lights; you followed suit. Dean sighed and threw his head back with a roll of his eyes. You frowned with a tilt of your head before looking over his shoulder.

“Of course there’s only one bed,” you blew out a breath. “Are we in a movie? ‘Cause now it certainly feels like we’re in a movie.”

Dean placed his bag on the table; you did the same.

“I expected more from a place called Mirth Motel,” he said. “I am certainly feeling mirthless.”

“Very funny, Dean,” you rolled your eyes. “Look, I’m gonna take a shower now, and when I get out, you better not be in a sour mood.”

“Whatever. I’m gonna go get us some burgers. Call me if you need anything.”

“Okay.”

Grabbing the keys, Dean walked out of the room. You picked up everything you needed and headed to the shower. The water pressure wasn’t nearly as good as the one you had in the bunker, but, right now, it was everything you needed.

By the time Dean got back, you were laying on the right side of the bed - knowing he’d rather sleep on the right -, reading your book. He held the paper bag in one hand and two beers in the other.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he said, placing the food on the table. “The burgers are still warm, but I think the beers might need to go in the fridge for a bit.”

“Want me to wait for you?”

“Nah, there’s no need to.”

“Okay, I’m waiting for you,” you said, and he chuckled. “What? There’s no fun in eating alone.”

“It’s gonna get cold.”

“We microwave it.”

“Right,” he smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

“Hmm, this delicious,” you nearly moaned, mouthful.

“Yeah, it is,” Dean smiled as he finished his burger, taking a long swig of his beer. “Look, if you want to, I can sleep in the backseat of Baby. I don’t mind. She’s comfy.”

“No, Dean, it’s okay,” you assured him, hand reaching out to his thick forearm. “The bed is big enough for both of us. It’s a king-sized bed, after all. We’d be in trouble if Sam had come with us.”

“Yeah, we would,” he chuckled. “He hogs all the blankets.”

“And all the space. That giant.”

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

“One-hundred percent sure,” you smiled. “Unless you are the one who doesn’t want to sleep with me.”

“Huh? I- uh- of course, I wanna sleep with you,” he stumbled over his words, his voice trembling. You blurt out laughing. “No. I mean- I don’t mind sleeping with you on the same bed. Clothed and all. Not, uh, the other kind of sleeping with you. Like naked and, uh- yeah, not that.”

“Easy, tiger. No need to get all flustered,” you chuckled. The point of his ears turned pink as his cheeks blushed. He took a long gulp of his beer. “For the record, I wouldn’t mind sleeping with you. I mean, the other kind of sleeping with you. Like naked and all. I wouldn’t mind in the slightest.”

His wide green eyes lifted at you before averting your face again. Dean cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.

“Would you?” you asked.

“Would I what?”

“Mind sleeping with me butt-naked.”

“Oh. No, of course not,” he stammered, shaking his head nervously. “Not even a bit.”

“Good,” you nodded. “It’s good to know we’re on the same page.”

“Yeah. Yeah, uh- I’m gonna go to sleep then,” he announced, awkwardly standing to his feet. “I’m tired.”

“Okay, you do that. I’ll be right after you.”

“Okay, good. Great.”

Dean locked himself in the bathroom, doing who knows what. You chuckled to yourself with a shake of your head. You loved making him feel embarrassed. Dean would get all cute whenever he felt uncomfortable. His eyes would widen, and he would lose every ability to talk. When his cheeks turned into a bright pink along with the tip of his ears, then everything was chaotic. It was nice to make him blush.

You laid on your back. The mattress wasn’t that comfortable. You didn’t expect it to be memory foam, but you hoped it would be a little comfier than it actually was. Your eyes were glued on the ceiling, your hands over your stomach as your finger tapped the back of your right one. An awkward silence filled the atmosphere as Dean, too, laid on his back without saying a word. His green eyes stared up as he chewed on his lip.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you said quietly, glancing at him.

“The ceiling is moving.”

“What?” you looked up with wide eyes. The ceiling was perfectly still.“Are you high?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure I've been staring at it for too long, and now it’s moving.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Thanks, you too,” Dean turned on his side, glancing at you. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that shirt.”

“My shirt?” you bit your lip to keep yourself from bursting into laughter.

“No, my shirt. You stole it.”

“You don’t remember, do you? You gave it to me as a birthday present.”

“It isn’t your birthday for the next month and a half.”

“You said it was an early gift,” you said firmly.

“I’m pretty sure I’d remember if I had given it to you,” he said. “But what do I know, right?”

“What do you know,” you licked your lips, turning to him.

“It looks better on you anyway,” he shrugged.

“Yeah, it does.”

Dean’s gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there for a moment, then backed up to your eyes. You drew a sharp intake of breath. His emerald green orbs seemed to unravel all the mysteries of your soul. You swallowed thick, avoiding his gaze. Slowly, Dean’s hand reached to yours under the blankets, his thumb caressed your skin. You looked up at him, his eyes locked in yours. As a way to avoid the growing tension between the two of you, you gave him a playful smirk and placed your feet on his legs.

“Fuck,” he hissed, pulling away; his hand didn’t let go, though. “Why are your feet so cold?”

“I don’t know,” you smiled innocently “You’re always hot, so now you’re gonna warm my feet since the blanket isn’t doing its job.”

“Jesus, it’s like the feet of a corpse.”

“Hey!” you smacked his shoulder. “Don’t say that.”

“Well, maybe if you wore some pants instead of shorts and actually put on some socks, your feet wouldn't be this cold.”

“You’re not fun, ” you pouted.

“If I had my feet against your shins, you wouldn't be too happy about it either.”

“Just admit you love having me this close to you,” you teased, a playful smirk on your lips.

“G’night, Y/N,” he turned his back on you.

“My feet are still cold,” you whined. “What should I do?”

“I don’t know. Use my calves maybe. Just don’t put those dead feet on my back.”

“Can I put them on your ass? I bet it would get them warm pretty quick.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he mumbled, you could almost hear his eyes rolling.

“Is that a yes or a no?” you insisted.

“That’s a no. Now shut it and go to sleep.”

“Fine,” you huffed. “Good night, Dean.”

Eventually, your feet got warm, and you pulled away from Dean. Some time, in the middle of the night, he found your back turned to him and decided to snuggle closer. His strong arm draped over your waist, knees tucked behind yours. Dean was laying on his back when the sun rose, and you rested your head on his chest, his arms once again securing you close. Of course, none of you would talk about waking up in each other's arms for the next four hours you’d be in the car. Perhaps you would only mention it once you were back at the bunker, forced to face what was said and done at the Mirth Motel.

What do you think of this one? Consider sharing your thoughts with me via reply, reblog, or ask!

Hunters: @hobby27​ @thewinchesterandreidwhore @tatted-trina6​ @doozywoozy​ @mogaruke​ @babypink224221​ @leah-winchester​

Dean’s Sweethearts: @maya-craziness​ @akshi8278​ @miss-here-to-stay​ @witch-of-letters​ @weepingwillowphoenix​ @danneelsmain​ @mrspeacem1nusone​  @percywinchester27​

[hoboal87]

Storm

Title: Storm

Pairings: Dean x F!Reader, mentions of Sam x Eileen

Characters: Dean, F!Reader, minor mentions of Sam and Eileen, unnamed OFCs

Word Count: ±2.1k

Warnings: anxiety, car accident, major injuries, angst, fluff, blink and you’ll miss it pre-smut, post 15x19, more spoilers will be in the tags.

A/N: Requested by a nonnie: “Hi sweetie, I adore your writing especially dean fics. Can I pleaaase request a flangsty one shot of dean x reader where they get into a car crash and she's the one who's badly injured?? And maybe they are stuck in a snow storm or something so help would take forever to come and dean is just trying to keep her alive? With lots of worried and gentle dean?? But I don't want her to die pleaaase 🥺🥺 thank you so much. And no pressure if you don't want to write it ❤️”

A special shout-out to @deanwinchesterswitch​ for taking time during her #BlogAppreciationBounce to beta this for me! Thanks Kym, you’re the best!

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Have a request? Send me an ask or DM!

You walk through the aisles of the grocery store, pushing the ever-growing cart in front of you. You and Dean had finally moved all of your belongings into your new home, and now you needed to stock it full of food. Dean is like a kid in a candy store, grabbing so many unnecessary items that you can only shake your head and suppress your giggles.

A thunderclap from outside makes you jump slightly; spring in Kansas, a woman just a few feet in front of you notes, you politely smile as she suggests stocking up on bottled water and canned goods. When you were living in the Bunker, severe weather wasn’t even on your radar. It was a fortress, with all sorts of magic protecting it. But now, you and Dean are living in an ordinary, run-of-the-mill house, and Kansas is smack-dab in the middle of tornado alley.

Dean meets you at the checkout counter, two pies in hand, and you give the cashier a small smile. Another thunderclap makes you jump, and Dean immediately wraps his arms around your waist, calming you, reminding you that it’s just a little rain. Thunderstorms had made you anxious ever since your family was attacked by a wendigo when you were a teenager. Every storm dredges up memories of you and your family fighting for your lives as the creature used a storm to hide in the shadows and the sounds of thunder to cover its inhuman screams.

Rain begins to fall as you load bag after bag into the trunk of Baby, empty now that Dean has retired. A large bolt of lightning strikes, brightening up the sky, making the heavy, dark clouds visible for a moment.

As Dean pulls Baby out of the parking lot, rain has begun falling; scattered droplets softly thumping on the roof of the car. You and Dean live away from town, out in the middle of nowhere, your closest neighbors being Sam and Eileen, owning the property next to yours, but their house was still being built, so for the time being, it was only you and Dean for nearly five miles. It didn’t seem like a lot of distance when you first chose the property; in fact, you originally wanted to buy both pieces of land so that you and Dean could have all 10 acres to yourselves.

Dean drives past the Gas n’ Sip, the closest business next to your home, and turns down the road that would eventually lead to your new house. The five-mile distance shouldn’t seem like a lot, but now, as the rainfall becomes heavier, you wished you’d chosen a home closer to town.

The thick, heavy rain makes it almost impossible for you to see anything more than a few feet in front of you. You take a long, calming breath, trying to keep your nerves intact as lightning strikes again in the distance. Dean notices your nerves starting to get the better of you and reaches over to give your knee a reassuring squeeze before bringing the car to a stop.

“You wanna wait out the rain?” He asks, taking your sweaty palm into his own.

“Food’ll spoil,” you counter, trying to cover your growing nerves.

“S'just food, sweetheart,” Dean unbuckles himself and slides closer before reaching over to do the same to you. “We can get more tomorrow.”

Dean wraps his arm around your shoulders as the storm seems to grow even stronger. He places a gentle kiss on your lips and reaches to the back seat, grabbing a blanket to cover you both. Under the worn blanket, Dean’s hand rubs up and down your thigh, inching closer to your covered core. This wouldn’t be the first time that Dean’s tried to get frisky in the Impala; hell, not even the third or fourth but with your anxiety running on high, the last thing you want is to fool around.

You don’t have to say anything, just gently intertwining your fingers with his and he seems to get the message. You curl up against him, basking in his familiar warmth and smell, praying that the storm would soon be over. Your heart thumps rapidly in your chest as the wind howls with enough force to cause the Impala to rock slightly on the road.

After you’ve calmed, Dean suggests heading on home. You nod slightly, wanting nothing more than to crawl into the comfort of your bed. He slides back over before shifting the car into gear and slowly starts accelerating.

Pain. Cold. Wet.

Steam rises from Baby’s engine, and thunder claps again. The last thing you remember is a horn honking and Dean slamming on the brakes before everything went dark. Your body lies limp on the hood of the car, glass shards from the windshield surrounding you.

The Impala’s front end is crushed, and the heat from the engine warms you as you try to piece together what happened. You can hardly focus on anything; there’s another car a few yards away; it must be the one you collided with. You try to move your body, but it’s then you realize that you can’t feel anything below your waist. You groan as you desperately try to move, hoping that you can will yourself onto your feet and find Dean. You can barely make out a low moan through the sound of the rain hitting the metal. You want to turn, but you can't; pain radiates throughout your body, at least the parts you can still feel. You try to call out to Dean, to anyone for help, but you can't find the words to do so. Your brain and mouth aren't connecting, and the only sounds that you manage to make are whimpers of pain.

A figure appears in the rain, cursing as he seems to take in your broken figure; he's almost yelling at what you can only assume is some 911 dispatcher.

"Shit.. one of the passengers…conscious? The driver? I'll try…"

The man appears at your side, and you can still see the phone attached to his ear.

"Ma'am? Can you hear me?" He asks cautiously, you want to nod, but you're too afraid to move your head, afraid that you could accidentally hurt yourself further. "Her eyes are open; she's breathing," the man relays into the phone. "Uh.. ragged. There's blood… Ma'am? I'll try that. Blink if you can hear me."

You slowly but deliberately blink your eyes. The man breathes out a sigh of relief.

"Y/N!" Dean's voice comes from through the broken windshield. The man hurries away from you and towards Dean. You can only make out the muffled noises as the man tries to convince Dean to stay inside Baby, but you know he won’t; he’s too stubborn to listen to anyone.

The rain begins to let up, and the man tells Dean that an ambulance is on the way. The sound of Dean’s boots on the wet concrete put you at ease, knowing that he’s, at the very least, in better shape than you are. You count the strides that Dean takes before he’s beside you, frowning slightly at the large gash on his forehead. Dean’s eyes rake over your body, and you know something is going on that neither man is telling you.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean’s hand gently cups your cheek, and you know that he’s trying to keep his voice steady. “Help’s comin’ baby, okay? You’re gonna be okay, y’hear me?”

You try to mumble a response, but the words still don’t form. The rain is now nothing more than a sprinkle, clouds shifting to reveal the night sky. Numbness has taken over the rest of your body as Dean keeps his eyes focused on you, assuring you over and over again that you're going to be okay. Off in the distance, you can hear a siren, and Dean squeezes your hand tightly as he tells the man to grab two flares from the trunk.

“Help’s almost here, Y/N.”

“De,” you barely manage to mumble out, “’m tired.”

“I know, baby.” Dean looks relieved at the sound of your voice. “Gotta stay awake, Y/N, please. Y’can’t go to sleep, baby, not until help gets here. Promise me you’ll stay awake.”

“Love you,” you murmur as your eyes close, and every breath becomes more difficult to take.

“Y/N, baby, I need you to open your eyes,” Dean begs as the siren grows closer. “Please, honey, just a coupla minutes. Please Y/N, you have to fight for just a little while longer; lemme see those pretty eyes, baby.”

With all the energy you can muster, you slowly open your eyes, focusing on Dean as he breathes out a sigh of relief. His face is wet; whether it's from the rain or fallen tears, you can’t be sure. Dean offers you a pained smile before leaning forward to press a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Red and blue lights illuminate the sky, and a handful of overlapping voices fill the air. A paramedic replaces Dean, who refuses to leave your side until a firefighter drags him away. Your vision blurs as the new person begins quickly examining you while another puts a brace around your neck. A team of paramedics turns you over, and slides a board under you before lifting you off the hood of the Impala and putting you onto a stretcher. You can barely register what’s happening around you, and you want to cry out as they load you into the ambulance.

The collar around your neck keeps your head facing up, and you try desperately to look for Dean. Your eyes frantically search from side to side before Dean comes into view. He reaches forward, and you feel the familiar calloused hands rubbing against yours. Voices are flying, asking Dean question after question; is she allergic to any medications? Did she lose consciousness? Any prior existing conditions? Blood type?

Your hearing becomes muffled and your vision becomes tunneled as Dean struggles to answer each question.

“She’s seizing!”

A steadily beeping heart monitor awakens you. There’s a tube down your throat and you’ve seen enough Dr. Sexy to know it’s a breathing tube. You cough as you try to breathe and the heart monitor’s beeping becomes more rapid. A nurse is in the room quickly, telling you to keep calm before calling someone else in to help remove the tube. She orders you to cough again and again until the tube is out.

“D’n?” Your throat sore and raspy from the tube being down your throat for who knows how long. “‘Ere’s D’n?”

“He’s gone home, Y/N,” the nurse, Rebecca, tells you calmly. “Visiting hours ended a while ago. We’ll call him as soon as we get you a work-up.”

“S’okay?” You hate that your brain and mouth aren’t working together, and you can only speak in half-formed words. Rebecca nods, smiling as she takes your vitals and calls for an orderly. “How l’ng out?” You struggle to ask, but she seems to understand your question.

“Six months.”

Hours later, you’ve been poked and prodded by too many doctors to keep count of. Words may take a few days, but you’ll get them back, a neurologist assures you, just keep practicing.

By the time they’ve returned you to your room, Dean is there, eyes glistening as Rebecca wheels you in. You want to stand up to meet him, but your limbs, like the rest of your body, don’t want to cooperate with you. Dean crouches down to meet you, the skin on his forehead slightly red from where you remember seeing the gash. He leans forward and presses a kiss on your lips.

“Missed you, sweetheart.”

Dean and an orderly help you back into bed, and he takes a seat in the chair next to you, taking you by the hand and rubbing the back of your palm gently. A team of doctors explains everything to you and Dean—that you’ll have a long road of recovery, you’ll need physical therapy for your limbs, you’ll most likely need a speech pathologist, but with hard work, you’ll be back to your old self in a matter of time.

“You’re very lucky, Y/N,” one of the many doctors says as the others clear out of your room. You let out a scoff, you’ve been in a coma for six months, and you’re lucky?

“Honestly, I’d call it a miracle,” he remarks before leaving, and for a moment, you swear his eyes flash red.

Feedback is appreciated!!

[antiherocorner]

Niki Lauda - The White Wolf

A Werewolf! Niki Lauda x Reader fic (18+)

Headcanons: 

So... This is my first AU ever... And also this is my first smut... Kind of... Thing... Ever... Sex scene, let's go with that... I was debating to post it in smaller parts, or a bigger one. I decided the second one might be better.

This is a mess, and a random idea... This could be a psychedelic trip, while you're watching fucking Twilight... Yes, I am familiar with the Twilight Saga... No, I wasn't Team Jacob... No, I didn't intend to base this on that... But it might has some similar stuff (no vampires)... Small stuff... All of them were unintentional, really.... Well... 1 or 2 things weren't, but most of them.

English is still not my native language, apologies for the grammatical mistakes, I tried.

Taglist: @rumblelibrary (you are my first tag in a fic written by me aaaaaaa🥺❤️🔥)

Summary: Your car broke down while you're on a road trip, on your own. You need someone to fix it. There's a small town. What could possibly happen?...

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (don't do it kids), swearing, possibly smoking, drinking, mention of scar (nothing big or serious), google translated German, bad dog jokes, puns, and no, i didn't make a "real" wolf fuck the Reader, i'm not that kinky, i imagined the Reader to be female, but can be gender neutral, no name, or age mentioned, no use of y/n either... That's it?... Idunno, still new to this

(collage made by me, i don't own the pictures, i just used them, it's also very amateur, I haven't done a collage in ages)

🐺🤍❤️

You were in your car ‘till your waist. The damn thing broke down half way into your road trip. You have had enough of your monotonous everyday life, so you decided to pack up the essential stuff of yours, get your car together, and head out into the unknown. You have already seen beautiful mountains from a distance, gone through deep, mysterious forests, taken many pictures. You have tried to live in your car, but occasionally you have stayed in some cheap, low budget motels for 1 or 2 nights. You always had trust in your car, yet there you were. It didn’t run out of gas, it just suddenly stopped in the middle of the road, just outside of a small town. It looked rather friendly, and not busy at all. There wasn’t any other car passing by, so you did what you thought was the best decision: packed your bag, locked the car, and started walking into the town, praying to find someone, anyone really, who can maybe lend a helping hand.

The people you saw were really kind, it seemed they didn’t really get too many outsiders in their small town, and they seemed happy for you. They told you that there was one car mechanic in the town, a little group of guys. They also told you about a motel, which was always open for travellers, and due to the lack of them, it was basically empty. You decided to go to the motel first. The receptionist was a friendly old lady, who, again, got very excited to finally have someone at her place. You got your room, for a very small price, went in and unpacked some of your stuff. You really wanted to know what was up with your car, or if it could be fixed at all, so you didn’t waste much time in your new temporary place. After a few minutes you headed out to the streets, to the direction where you were told before to find the mechanics.

It was one of those warm days, so you were glad you found what you were looking for. You heard music coming out of an open garage. Above the doors you read “The Rat's Den”.

- Hello?... - you popped your head in the garage.

- Can I help you with something? - a tall, blonde haired man, with broad shoulders approached you. He had a cheeky smile on his face, sweat under his long locks. Oh, and shirtless.

- I uhm.. My car broke down just down the main road - you gestured with your hand where your car was - And I was just wondering if you could help me with it… I don’t know what could be the problem, I have been traveling with it for the past few days, weeks, everything was fine up until now. I just can’t get it to work.

- Sure, we can take a look at that thing - you turned your head to the direction from where another voice caught your attention. Another man just slipped out from under a car. He had curly hair, slimmer body than the blonde one, but still tall. You looked him in the eye as he came over. His eyes were like a river of caramel pudding, and they were glowing like a forest fire in the middle of the night. Your mouth watered.

- Thank.. You… - you said shyly. What’s happening? You normally aren't this shy… - When can you do that?

- Are you staying in that old motel? - asked the curly one.

- Yes.

- Alright. Is that good, if I go there around 7 am tomorrow, so I can take a look at it before I open the garage?

- Y-yeah… sure.

- It’s a date then. I’m Niki Lauda, by the way, that’s James Hunt. - he gestured towards the blonde one, James. You didn’t even notice him leaving you two. You told him your name.

- It was nice meeting you. I’ll be there at 7.

- Okay. See you then. And thank you.

- It’s no problem.

And with that you headed out of the garage. You turned back before you completely went outside. You saw a tattoo on James' right shoulder. You didn’t see every detail, but you felt a strange feeling. Unconsciously your eyes wandered to Niki. He was wearing a white shirt, but you could still see a glimpse of something similar, at least as you guessed, just under his neck. Strange.

You went back to the motel. You couldn’t go to sleep during the night so easily. You had a weird feeling about The Rat’s Den. Some kind of an aura was around it. It looked like any other garages where they repair cars and that’s it, but not there. There was something. You couldn’t really describe what you were feeling, or grasp what you should even be looking for. Something was up, you were sure about that.

🐺🤍❤️

After a few hours of sleep, you woke up. Niki could be here any minute now. You freshened up a little bit, you felt like shit due to the lack of sleep. Suddenly, you heard a loud car noise. You were the only one there at the motel, you guessed that was Niki. Honk. Yes, most definitely. You opened the door for an old, shiney Ferrari, with Niki sitting at the front.

- You’re coming or no, Schatzi?

You blushed by the petname, but quickly composed yourself, locked your room’s door, and jumped into the passenger seat. The man asked you about where you left your car. You answered and he drove to the correct directions. The short journey was mostly silent, with small talks. You stared out of the window, so you missed the spectating eyes of his.

- You’re good? You look exhausted…

- I’m okay, I just haven’t slept much. - you turned to him.

- Well, that makes the two of us.

You looked at him with curious eyes, but he remained silent, eyes focused on the road. You couldn’t read him, but tried to observe his features. He was pale, especially his knuckles as he was basically suffocating that poor wheel. He was taking deep and slow breaths. He looked like he was having a hard time in his own car.

- Is that your car? - Niki snapped you out of your thoughts.

- Yes, yes, that’s it.

Niki stopped his car in front of yours. You got out, and walked to it. He asked for your keys, so he could open the hood of the car. You took them out of your packet, then placed them in his open palm. Fingers briefly touched. He was warm. Surprisingly warm. For a moment you thought you heard him sharply inhale, but he quickly busied himself with your car. He has a nice butt. You immediately scolded yourself and turned your back to him, leaning on the side of the car, while he was working. After a few minutes, awkward silence, and some rattling, he straightened himself and turned to you.

- The engine gave up. Although it’s nothing serious or expensive, it will take some day to fix it properly, so it won’t die again. - so I stuck here yey - How long will you stay?

- As long as I don’t have a car I guess… - you massaged your nose, the lack of sleep started to catch up - I took it to a mechanic before I left… That’s just great…

- Well, that asshole did a shit job… It’s obvious what’s wrong, and it didn’t happen overnight. - he shrugged and closed the hood - I can’t take it back to the garage now, but during the afternoon I will come back for it with a more usable car.

- Sounds like a plan - you nodded and extended your arm to take your keys back.

Your fingers brushed against his, again, but this time the contact shot electricity up in your arm, which caused you to drop the keys. You instantly crouched after it, but what you grabbed weren’t your keys. It was a hand. Niki’s hand. How does he have these quick reflexes? You looked up, still holding his hand, and just realized that your faces were just a few centimeters away from each other. Both of you froze. Niki even seemed like he wasn’t breathing. His eyes were on yours, before he looked down to your lips. You licked them unconsciously. He purred. What?

- We should get back to the town.

He jumped up, leaving your keys on the ground. You tried to get yourself together, picked up your keys and sat back into his car. The way back to the garage was in complete silence. He didn’t purr, did he? He just breathed weirdly… I am imagining stuff… Right? You were confused.

🐺🤍❤️

Not much happened during the rest of the day. You tried to look around the little place, bought some food and just relaxed in your room. When the sun started to settle down you realized that you didn’t give your car keys back to Niki. You left each other in such a hurry, after he took you back to his garage, none of you had it in mind. You couldn’t call him, you didn’t have his number, and you didn’t really want to walk there. Throughout the whole day you had a strange feeling. Something was definitely up. You just felt it in your guts. Niki was like any other man and yet, he had an aura that just gave off some vibes which you just couldn’t grasp, no matter how hard you tried. You were pacing in your room when you looked out of your window. A red Ferrari just stopped in front of the motel. What, is he a mind reader too? You opened your door, spinning your keys in the air with your right hand.

- Catch! - you shouted, throwing them at his back, but before it could hit him, he turned around and caught them in his left hand with incredible accuracy.

You weren't expecting that. He didn’t say anything, just smirked and winked at you, as you locked eyes. You blushed deeply, and he disappeared just as quickly as he came by.

🐺🤍❤️

During the evening, you couldn’t rest. Again. This time you decided to go for a little walk. You weren’t really paying attention to where you were going. You just wandered around the quiet, calm town. It seemed like everyone was fast asleep. Not a single person, not a single soul was up. You arrived at a little dirt road which was leading you to a forest, next to your temporary home. You didn’t know why, you followed it. You got to a little field which was shielded with huge trees from the outside world. Some rays of sunshine were still peeking through the bushes, giving it an angelic look. Little red flowers covered your newly found small area. It felt like you were in a fairytale. But you weren’t. You heard a branch break behind you. You turned on your heels, just in time to see a huge, black wolf coming out from the bushes. It looked unusual, there was something in its face, in its eyes that was off. Human? It had a human kind of amused face expression. In the middle of your observation you just realized it was coming close. You panicked. Just when you thought it was going to rip you apart, another one jumped between the two of you, from behind you. This one was white, and slightly bigger. It growled at its own kind, like it was telling him to fuck off. The black wolf looked at you one last time and took off into the trees. The remaining animal calmed down, before it turned to you. It looked majestic. There was something royal in its posture. Around its neck and on his chest it had little patches of curly fur, like a mane. It had a cut on its lip, probably just had a fight, maybe with its prey. It looked deep into your eyes, like it was staring into your soul. There was something familiar in those eyes. The eyes were glowing, and like a river of caramel. Wait. You took a step forward and it instantly disappeared into the shadows. You really did needed to sleep.

🐺🤍❤️

You jolted up in your bed. You were covered in sweat, hair was messy. You massaged your face while you were trying to catch your breath, even your breathing. You looked at the clock. 1:30am. You managed to sleep for about an hour, before the nightmare woke you up. You saw the wolves again. They were circling you. The black one jumped forward and tackled you to the ground. Your sight got blurry, but you could still make out the silhouette of the white one. It changed into a man. It had curly hair. You felt like someone or something was watching you. You walked to the window, and pushed the curtain aside. You saw a wolf, watching you from the otherside of the road. A white wolf. That wolf. You immediately turned around, hands were burying in your hair. What the hell is going on? Am I going crazy? What is this place? A knock on the door caused you to jump. With shake legs and hands, you went to the door and opened it. Niki was leaning on the door jamb, with his left hand.

- What an earth are you… - you started with a confused look but it quickly changed into a shock, your eyes got wide when you looked at his lips. He had a fresh scar there. - There’s no way…

- I can’t do this anymore. You drive me crazy. - he looked at you with a beast-like expression on his face.

- What do y- - you couldn’t finish your question.

Niki technically broke into your room, then kicked the door closed. He didn’t mean to scare you, but he was on the edge of completely losing control over himself. He took a step towards you. You didn’t step back. You couldn’t. That animal look on him made your legs weak, your mouth dry. The lust in his eye made you want him. You licked your lips. That was the last straw for him. The next thing you knew you were thrown against the wall. His mouth was on your neck, sucking and biting like a hungry wolf. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he didn’t plan to go easy and kind on you either. He hooked his hands under your knees, picked you up and you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist. His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass and thighs.

- Your smell is intoxicating to me. I still don’t know how did I manage to not to rip your clothes off and fuck you on the hood of your car, when there were just the two of us, alone. - he confessed into your ear, and that made you feel all kinds of incoherent thoughts.

You wanted to answer, but when he sucked on your collarbone, the only thing that came out of your mouth was a moan, which could have been heard in Hell as well. He growled in response, grabbed your shirt on the back, and tore it in half with such ease, letting it fall to the carpet. He took you away from the wall, then placed your back on your bed. He sit up, just to took of his shirt. He placed himself between your legs, arms next to your head to keep himself from crushing you. He looked you deep in the eye. The warm that radiated from him was unbearable. It made your stomach turn in itself. He leaned in to capture your lips, but he stopped just millimeters away from you. There was a silent question in the air. He got his answer when you closed your eyes. When your lips met, you felt like you jumped to another dimension. He tasted like a mixture of cigarette and beer. Your hands found their ways into his curls. His breath stuttered for a second, before letting out a purring sound into your lips and mouth. He liked that. No. He loved that. His left hand wandered down between the two of you, to pull your pants down. You let him. Then it was your turn to free him from his pants. He let you. He was bigger than you would have imagined, and thick. And also hard like a rock. You gently grabbed him to pump him a little bit, but he didn’t let you have your fun for too long. He needed you badly. He wanted to bury himself in you. He pulled your hand away from him, and just as you were to pull your legs up for him to get a better angle, he tightened his grip on your arm a little bit, and turned you around like he just picked up a feather. You got confused for a second but when you felt him at your entrance you put the puzzle together. Oh. He is half wolf after all. And without a second word he trusted his hips toward and filled you up. You pressed your face into your blanket to suppress some of your cry.

- I’m sorry, but you really bring the animal out of me... Meine schöne Beute...- was all he whispered, but waited for a little bit for you, to get used to him, before he started moving.

From slow and sensual trusts, you quickly arrived to needy and shameless fucking. His occasional growles got mixed with your load moans. Niki kept biting your neck and shoulders, and you couldn’t do anything, rather just take it. Not that you had any coherent thoughts about doing anything in that position. As both of you were coming closer to reaching your desires, Niki’s hands found their ways to the back of your own ones, interlocked your fingers, and raised both his and your arms above your heads on the bed. You saw the finish line, but before you could register the checkered flag, your pleasure hit you like a racecar. The man behind you finished the race as a close second. He stayed inside you until he got soft, then collapsed on the bed beside you. After you stopped seeing stars, you looked at him. He was already looking at you with his big caramel eyes. You felt this urge to cuddle him, you were already missing his warmth, although he wasn’t that far from you. He looked like he sensed your thoughts, because he opened one of his arms, invitingly. You quickly snuggled to his side, head on his chest. He was drawing circles on your back with the hand that was behind you. You reached up to the back of his neck, and started to slowly massaging the hair on it. He instantly started purring.

- I love this sound… - you slightly chuckled.

- I can get used to this… - he smiled.

- So am I... - the broken car was long forgotten.

Both of you drifted off to sleep like this, in the arms of each other. The last thing you heard was Niki’s heartbeat. Thump. Thump. Thump. Honk.

You shot your eyes open. You were in your car. In a parking lot. You sit up, confused, trying to solve your thoughts. You were tired, so you stopped to sleep a little bit in your car, before you reached your next destination. Was this all a dream? You climbed over to the driver’s seat. Started the car. Looked in the mirror on your right, on your left, then on the middle one. You saw a little purple spot under your shirt, around your neck. You pulled the shirt aside. A hickey on your collarbone.

🐺🤍❤️

The End?...

[enigmalynne]

Of Nightmares and Sandalwood - Dean x Reader Fic

Title – Of Nightmares and Sandalwood Pairings – Y/N & Dean Word Count – 3,928 Warnings – Do Nightmares count? Cursing, arguing SPNMixedBingo Square filled – Early Morning, Touch Starvation, Bed Sharing Prompt: “I don’t sleep. My mind has the scary capability of being dark and demented.” “you are afraid of your dreams?” “Yes,” he said quietly.

She doesn’t know what wakes her up, only that something was off, and she couldn’t sleep until she fixed whatever it was. Rolling over and looking at the clock, Y/N realized that it was just before three in the morning.

With a sleepy groan, Y/N climbed out of her warm bed. She reached for a flannel (undoubtedly stolen from one of the brothers, she’s certain) to pull over her tank top and shorts. She slipped on her flip-flops before wandering out of her room to see what was out of the ordinary.

The kitchen was dark, the dishes sitting in the drying rack, so it wasn’t that. Sam’s bedroom door was closed, and she could hear his gentle snores behind it, so she knew it wasn’t him. The bathroom light was off and the door was open, so no one was there.

Dean’s bedroom door, however, was open. Curiously, Y/N walked toward his room and looked inside to find his bed unmade and empty. Frowning, she walked down the hall to the library in search of the older Winchester. The expansive room designated as the ‘Dean Cave’ was dark and empty, as was the library. It wasn’t until she heard familiar music coming from the garage that she got the idea to check there.

Opening the door quietly, she spotted him. He was standing barefooted in the garage with the hood of Baby up, dressed in dirty jeans and a black t-shirt that fit snugly over his chest and shoulders. His expression held a world of unspeakable pain that he couldn’t seem to hide as he focused on some invisible problem with the classic car, his mind a million miles away.

Y/N frowned as she stared thoughtfully at him, knowing something wasn’t right.

Gently closing the door behind her, she walked up to the cooler Dean had a beer sweating on. She picked up the bottle and took a long pull from it, switching off the music with her other hand. The entire garage instantly plunged into silence, causing Dean to startle. He turned on her quickly, pulling his loaded gun from the small of his back and pointing it at her chest in less than a second. His fierce eyes narrowed, a controlled fury there she hadn’t seen in over a decade.

She swallowed the hoppy beer, carefully set the bottle back down, and gently leaned against one of the older cars that were parked in the garage.

“Morning, stranger,” she muttered, a tired frown on her face. Dean grunted at her as he pulled the loaded gun away from her direction, uncocking it and carefully putting it back where it came from.

“Dammit, Y/N. I could have killed you,” he muttered gloomily. Y/N simply raised a brow at him. “And quit drinking my beer!”

“Why are you armed inside the bunker? You know it’s safe here, Dee,” she answered instead. Dean intentionally threw her a dirty look before leaning against the car again, looking down into the engine block. He willfully refused to properly answer her. She tried again.

“Hey, what’s going on?” she asked gently. Dean tried to ignore her once again. Y/N frowned at him. She looked at the Impala, remaining quiet for a few minutes. Dean didn’t move. After a while, Y/N started to shiver, so she pulled the flannel she had on around herself tighter.

“It’s really late. Or early, depending on how you look at it. Why are you awake right now?” she asked. Dean snapped and slapped the side of the car, causing a loud sound to echo in the garage and Y/N to jump.

“What’s with the twenty questions, Y/N? Can’t you tell I want to be left alone? Can’t you get the hint?” Dean shouted furiously at her. Y/N looked down and away, away from his angry face. She felt her emotions start to overwhelm her again, but she swallowed down her frustration. She refused to be deterred. His deflection wasn’t going to work this time. She started picking at the sleeves of the flannel she wore

“No,” she said quietly.

“What?!” Dean snapped at her. Y/N carefully lifted her eyes and stared thoughtfully at Dean, her face not giving away her emotions.

“I said, no,” she repeated herself. “I can’t just go back inside and act like I don’t know that you are out here hurting. I want to give you your space and let you take out your frustration or whatever it is you are feeling on Baby, but I just can’t walk away this time.” She shrugged, looking away.

“Sorry,” she said distantly, as she diligently studied the car she was leaning on. Dean stared at her, his hands on his hips. He undoubtedly knew he was being cruel. But it was his typical reaction to lash out and push people away. After a long minute, he released a long, heavy sigh.

“I had a nightmare,” he said quietly. Y/N looked over at him silently, encouraging him to continue speaking. She watched as Dean walked over to the Impala and rested his hands on the end of the car, leaning over the engine block yet again.

“What was it about?” Y/N asked, her voice soft in the large room. Dean gently shook his head, staring down at the car once again. “Must have been pretty bad if it’s keeping you awake right now.”

“I’m fine, Y/N,” Dean growled impatiently. Y/N bit her tongue. Yeah, you look terrific. Instead, she just watched as he stared sightlessly at the engine again.

“Why don’t we go inside? I’ll make us something to eat, or maybe we can just grab a few drinks,” she politely suggested. Anything to get that icy cold look off his face. “We don’t even have to talk about the nightmare unless you want to.” Dean remained silent, but the twitch in his jaw showed her that the man heard her. After a few minutes of silence and Y/N sighed.

“Dean, come on. Work with me here,” Y/N started, standing up straight to face the older brother. That’s when Dean snapped again. He reached up and slammed the hood of the Impala, much rougher than he typically would. He turned toward her and growled.

“I’ve about had it with you, Y/N, and your feel-good bullshit. I just said I didn’t want to talk to you, and I don’t want to talk about it,” he shouted. Y/N wasn’t even sure what he was saying anymore, only that she was done with him and with his bullshit.

“Stop fucking yelling at me!” Y/N finally shouted back, causing Dean to shut his mouth with an audible click. “Jesus Christ, Dean. What the hell is your problem? Not everyone is your fucking enemy or is trying to hurt you. I’m not trying to fucking hurt you!”

Dean stared at her, his breathing harsh through his nose as he tried to control his temper and his raging emotions as he watched Y/N finally lose her temper with him.

“I woke up, and I didn’t know why. I was merely checking on you and Sam and noticed you were missing. I’m so sorry that my checking on you was such a fucking inconvenience to you, Dean!” she bellowed snidely. The two glared defiantly at each other for a long minute. Finally, Y/N held her hands up in a surrender motion.

“You know what,” she started, her voice low and monotone. “Forget I said anything. You want to stay out here and wallow in self-pity and whatever bullshit you got rolling around in that head of yours instead of talking to me about it, be my guest. I’m done.” Y/N turned on her heel and walked toward the door out of the garage and back into the main part of the bunker.

For reasons Dean didn’t understand, he instantly started to panic.

“Y/N,” he said cautiously to get her attention.

“Go fuck yourself,” she muttered fiercely, simply waving her hand at him. She swung open the door, moments away from crossing the threshold. His panic grew, and he intuitively knew if he didn’t get her attention back now, he would be doing irrevocable damage to their relationship.

“Y/N!!”

That stopped her. Dean’s voice sounded agonized, hurt, and broken down. But at this point, so was Y/N. She turned back to look at him, one foot inside the pleasant warmth of the bunker and ready to forget this even happened.

“What?!” she snapped at him; her kind eyes narrowed and glassy.

“I don’t sleep,” Dean said. Y/N’s expression changed from one of hurt and anger to one of confusion.

“What?” she bit out, confusion coloring her tone this time.

“I don’t sleep. After my nightmares, I don’t sleep. My subconscious mind has the scary capability of being dark and demented,” he gently explained, his eyes anywhere but on her face. “Once it starts, I can’t seem to stop it, so it’s just safer to… not sleep.”

“You’re afraid of your dreams?” Y/N asked softly, her heartbreaking for him.

“Yeah. Sure,” he said quietly. His weight subtly shifted between his bare feet.

Y/N watched him for a long moment, then walked back into the garage. The door slammed shut behind her, but she ignored it. Dean noticed she was walking toward him and shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling incredibly vulnerable now. Once she was next to him, Y/N carefully wrapped her hand around his arm, slid it down his soft skin, and held onto his wrist. She gently rested her head against his shoulder as she pulled his left hand out of his pocket and intertwined their fingers together.

Dean turned his head to look cautiously at her, his mask sliding into place so she couldn’t read what he was thinking. She didn’t need to see his face to feel his trepidation, his worry, his comfort at her closeness, or his self-loathing for feeling he didn’t deserve it. Y/N lifted her Y/C/E to Dean’s green ones.

“Do you trust me?” she asked quietly.

“You know I do,” Dean answered just as softly. Y/N offered a tiny smile before gently pulling him with her toward the direction of the door inside.

“Come on,” she whispered, tilting her head toward the door. Y/N squeezed his hand, then took a step back, away from the Impala. “Come on, Dean.”

Dean watched her try to pull him away from the car, the garage, his sanctuary, with pain-filled eyes before he closed them and sighed brokenly. It was then he finally moved and let Y/N pull him toward the door back inside the bunker. She turned away from him to see where she was going, but once they were down the stairs, she turned and looked back at him. When she looked back at Dean, he had his eyes fixed on the ground.

Y/N stepped closer to him, still leading them through the bunker, carefully wrapping his arm around her waist. She felt more than heard his breath catch as his fingers brushed against the bare skin of her belly from where her tank top rode up a little. He naturally tried pulling away, but she wouldn’t let him. He genuinely needed comfort, and she wasn’t going to let him deny himself that. Once they were in front of his room, she turned to look at him.

“I’m going to run to my room for a moment to grab some things. Be in bed by the time I get back,” she explained softly to him. Dean shook his head and instantly started to protest, which caused Y/N to hold up a dainty finger to his lips. His eyes opened fractionally at her soft touch.

“I wasn’t asking,” she said knowingly. She stared resolutely into Dean’s eyes until she saw when he relented, then nodded her head. She squeezed his hand before she turned and walked across the hall and down a few doors to where her room was. Once inside, she moved quickly. She grabbed her sandalwood and vanilla lotion, tucked her pillow under her arm, and turned off her diffuser. She emptied the water and oils she had in the machine already, wiping it out with a microfiber cloth.

Opening the small wooden case of oils, she chose a few scents she thought Dean would find calming: Sandalwood, Cinnamon, and Caramel. She put drops of the oils in the diffuser and grabbed a bottle of water to fill it with once she got back into Dean’s room. She grabbed her sound machine then left her room, using her elbow to flip off her light.

Walking into Dean’s room, she was pleased to see he had done what she had asked. He was lying on his back. His thick blanket was pulled to his waist, and he was staring wistfully at the ceiling. The room was dim and cool, the only light coming from a lamp on his nightstand. Y/N walked over to the bed and dropped the pillow from under her arm onto his bed. Dean turned his head to watch her.

Without saying a word, she went over to where his desk was and set all her items down. The first thing she did was plug in the diffuser. She set the machine on his desk, removed the lid, and opened the bottle of water in her hand. Filling the basin to the top of the waterline, she put the lid back on it. She then set it to run steadily throughout the next 8 hours. Sealing the water bottle once again, she moved to her next task.

She then turned her noise machine on to the sound of white noise. Typically, she’d fall asleep to the sound of ocean waves or rainfall, but this was for Dean. White noise was the easiest thing to choose. She set the volume to low: loud enough to be heard over the noise of the diffuser but quiet enough to be in the background and not keep them awake. She picked up her lotion and turned to face Dean.

“Take your shirt off and turn over on your belly,” she said softly, walking over to the bed. Dean stared at her for a long moment, wanting to argue. “Just trust me, Dean.”

With a huff, he sat up and pulled his t-shirt over his head. He tossed it aside and rolled over onto his belly, and settled down on his bed. Y/N grabbed her pillow and put it up next to Dean, so she had something to lay on, pulled off her flannel and tossed it over the chair, climbed up onto the bed, and straddled his hips. She felt Dean stiffen as her body touched his, and she instantly hushed him.

“It’s okay, Dean. Close your eyes and take deep breaths,” Y/N quietly said. Dean heard a soft ‘click’ of the lotion bottle opening, then silence. Slowly, Dean willingly let his eyes drift shut. He inhaled slowly, and the spicy scent that filled his senses started calming him almost instantly. When he exhaled, he felt Y/N’s soft hands run over his tense shoulders.

“That’s it,” he heard her say, her voice almost melodic. “Take some deep breaths. Inhale slowly, exhale just as slow. Let the sandalwood and cinnamon fill your senses, calm your mind, ease your spirits.”

Her hands started out gentle as they ran over his shoulders and up to his neck, slowly growing in pressure. Her hands would find a knot in his muscles and spend some extra time there, focusing on the spot and adding some careful pressure there to ease the tension. The entire time he continued his deep breaths, focusing on keeping them even and steady.

“I want you to think about something good, something that brings you joy,” Y/N said as her hands ran up and down his spine. “Think about a moment when you remember being completely at ease and relaxed. Who was there with you, where you were, what you were doing…”

Dean immediately thought of the evening a few nights ago, when the three of them were sitting around the library just hanging out and chatting. They were sharing a bottle of whiskey they found created by Metallica. When Dean found out about it, he was so excited he bought four bottles. They opened one immediately when they got home and just sat around the table and talked about music while passing the bottle around. He found out just how much music they all actually had in common that same night.

“Now take a deep breath, nice and slow…”

He inhaled, and the scent of vanilla filled his nose with the spicy scent of wood and cinnamon. He felt pressure on the base of his skull now, easing tension he didn’t even know he had there. He took a deep breath and released a soft moan of pleasure as he exhaled, turning his head so that Y/N had easy access to his neck and skull.

“Just breathe easy and let the tension go… Focus on the good and release the tension in your body…”

Her warm hands felt so good sliding across his skin, putting pressure on different parts of his body that were sore. He was feeling peaceful with the warmth of her body close to his, and he felt himself drifting…

“Take a deep breath, Dean. In through your nose and release slowly out through your mouth,” he heard her soft voice say next to his ear. He inhaled slowly, and when he exhaled, he felt her warm hands put solid pressure on the muscles next to his spine, moving slowly upward. He felt the vertebra give, popping deeply and releasing tension as her hands moved their way from his lower back upward to his shoulders. It pulled a deep moan from him as his muscles gave a slight twitch before relaxing under her touch. Once she had finished the pressure trail up to his neck, she ran her hands gently up and down his spine.

“There you go,” he heard her soft voice mumble gently to him. “Just breathe deeply, in through your nose and out through your mouth. Let the scent of sandalwood and vanilla calm you. Clear your mind of any thoughts and rest.”

Dean felt the pressure again, but this time against his neck and skull. Y/N pressed her thumbs at the base of his skull, pushing down against the soft spot at the center and brushing outward to where the occipital nerve rests on each side. At first, he tensed up again, but remembering what she said about breathing, he forced himself to relax and continue the deep breathing. Soon, the soft touches grew deeper and harder, gently pressing the tension away.

With everything that was happening all at once, he caught himself slowly growing tired, and sleep danced on the edges of his consciousness. He fought the urge to slip away until he heard Y/N start humming above him. Just as he floated off to sleep, he realized she was humming Hey Jude.

When Y/N realized that he was asleep, she intentionally slowed her hands against his skin until she stopped moving altogether. Moving as slow as she possibly could, she gracefully slid off Dean’s body and reached over to turn off the light. The room instantly dropped into complete darkness, and Y/N used her hands to guide her to the opposite side of Dean’s bed. With careful movements, she slid under the covers and curled up next to Dean.

She ran her fingers through his short hair, running her fingers down his back to where the sheet and blanket rested at his waist. Using careful and slow movements, she gently pulled them up over them both. Once they were properly covered, she leaned over and tenderly kissed Dean on the temple.

“Good night, Dee,” she whispered almost silently into his ear before snuggling up against him. With a deep sigh, Y/N felt herself relax off to sleep herself.

The next time he became aware of his surroundings, he felt a pleasant warmth pressed up against him. It was in his arms. He took a deep breath, and the spicy scent that calmed him the night before was still lingering nearby. He realized, quite suddenly, that he had slept soundly the rest of the night after a horrific nightmare.

He slowly opened his eyes, looking down to find Y/N wrapped in his arms. Her head rested peacefully on her pillow, her back pressed against his chest, his arm wrapped around her waist. Dean stared at her, uncertain what to think.

“Stop thinking so hard, it’s still too early,” Y/N muttered, her voice rough with sleep. She snuggled down into her pillow, her body pressing closer against Dean’s.

“I slept through the night last night,” he said softly. Y/N smiled; eyes still closed.

“Yes, you did,” she said.

“I haven’t slept through the night after a nightmare. Ever,” Dean said thoughtfully. “How did you do that?”

“Hmmm?” Y/N hummed sleepily, rolling over and gently pushing at Dean. He promptly turned onto his back and let Y/N curl up on his chest; her hand curled up next to her face, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. Dean wrapped his arm around her, running his fingers up and down her arm. Y/N smiled gently at his touch.

“I said, how did you get me to sleep through the night after a nightmare?” he asked softly, tilting his head toward hers. Y/N pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Is the diffuser still running?” she questioned. When Dean didn’t respond, she repeated herself. Dean lifted his head and looked around his room until his eyes fell on a small machine shooting a mist into the air on his desk. When he asked if that was it, he confirmed it was still going.

“Then it’s not time to get up yet. Go back to sleep, I’ll explain it later,” Y/N said. Dean looked down at the woman in his arms and let a smile play on his lips. He carefully brushed a kiss on her forehead then snuggled down under the blankets and closed his eyes.

Maybe he should have nightmares more often if it meant he got to wake up with Y/N in his arms, asleep in his bed. Maybe he could have this after all, and it would be okay. Maybe there was something more here than he originally thought. Maybe… Dean felt a hand against his cheek, causing his eyes to open, then slip shut as he felt Y/N’s soft lips press against his in a tender kiss.

Their mouths moved against each other gently, cautiously feeling each other’s lips against each other sweetly. Just as Dean was about to deepen the chaste kiss, Y/N pulled away and slowly opened her eyes to stare at him.

“You’re thinking too much. Go back to sleep,” she whispered, gently brushing a delicate fingertip over his mouth. “I’ll answer all of your questions in a few hours. Then maybe we can try this again.”

Dean watched as Y/N shot him a sleepy grin, then settled back down against him. He blinked once, then twice, then broke into a huge smile. Tightening his arms around the extraordinary woman in his bed, he buried himself into her and the delicious warmth of her skin. There was a promise of something exciting and new waiting for him after they woke up once again.

If all his nightmares had this kind of outcome, he’d take all the night terrors he could get.

Taglist:

Supernatural:

@akshi8278 @vicmc624 @agirlwithdemonblood @flamencodiva @hobby27 @mimaria420 @compresshischest09 @kkrivers @deanwanddamons @LovelyRocker @mrsstevenbuchananstark

Jensen/Dean Taglist

@deandreamernp @siospins @sacriceria @sexyvixen7 @lanea-1 @nancymcl

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “The Spirit of Polaris.”

Didn’t know what I wanted to write this week , but I told you you would get three stories every week, so that is what I have done. I hope you guys like it. 

Adam couldn’t sleep. He lay flat on his back with the warm Texas heat blowing through him. The windows in the barracks were open and a breeze blew through tugging at his shirt muggy with warm summer night air. All around him the other cadets lay sleeping in the night filled with the distant sounds of marching feet and the even more distant wine of aircraft engines. Light filtered in from the distant runway giving a gently white glow to everything around him. He sighed and rolled onto his side, trying to get comfortable, but it was no use.

Sweat pulsed from his pores with every beat of his heart, and slowly he sat up rubbing his head and blearily looking over at the other sleeping recruits. He had no idea how they were doing it. Most of them were probably from more humid climates, used to sleeping in this sort of oppressive heat.

He was more used to dealing with the cold.

He sat there for a long moment, debating on what to do before finally making a decision. Slowly rising to his feet, he quietly grabbed his boots, and slipped towards the barracks door feet almost silent on the wood flooring below him. He did his best to avoid allowing the light from outside to filter too far into the room, leaving only an instant sliver of illumination on the wood before stepping out into the cool night air. It was nicer outside, and he took in a sigh of relief as the wind brushed over his skin and cooled the heat.

He turned his head up to the sky, tilting his head back and frowned wilting.

The light pollution was so bad here, there were no stars to see. He slumped back against the wall and sighed. This was going to be a long night. 

Bending over, he put his boots on the ground and laced them up turning and making his way towards the distan runway. Up in the sky he could see distant circling lights of the planes both leaving and coming. He was drawn towards them, and the rolling sound of engines. 

He made his way through other small concrete buildings, quietly passing by, doing his best to avoid the dim flare of red, and a line of smoke that trailed up from the watch building,  and up onto a hill in the training field where he was able to sit and stare at the planes both coming and going. He found the roar of their engines to be peaceful, and wrapped his arm around his legs gently rocking back and forth in the night as the wind blew past him.

Adam was going to be exhausted tomorrow he knew, but there was nothing to help it. He wouldn’t be able to sleep, and there was no reason to lay there and hope it would happen. If Master Sergeant Kimball caught him at this hour, he would get his ass beat, and everyone in his group was going to get punished for him being a dumbass, but he was pretty sure their MTI was supposed to be asleep at this hour, and he couldn't Imagine the Master Sergeant missing out on his beauty sleep.

He had to keep his beautifully bushy eyebrows in top shape to yell at the cadets.

Adam rested back against the grass, hands behind his head to stare up at the sky watching as a slow moving red light passed through the distorted atmosphere. The breeze continued to tug at his shirt; he lay in the grass and stared up at the sky.

He was sort of half dozen when.

“Are you enjoying your evening layabout, recruit.”

He nearly soiled his pants jolting upright and nearly tipping over as he turned around to see Master Sergeant Kimball crouching behind him in the grass, the whites of his eyes wide and wild.

“Master Sergeant,I…. I…”

Sergeant Kimball stood staring down at him with his large eyebrows furrowed. Adam had grown a lot over the past year and was almost as tall as the man, but that did nothing to ease his abject terror.

“Sneaking past the posted guard to come watch the airplanes” 

Adam stammered, “I’m s-orry, sir. I- I couldn’t sleep and there are no stars out.”

Sergeant Kimball stepped forward, and Adam flinched back preparing himself for the string of abuse that was sure to leave the man's lips, but when nothing happened he slowly opened on eye too see the man staring up at the sky overhead backlit as a silhouette against the training field below.

“Sit your ass down, recruit.” He said, voice softer than it normally was.

Adam did as ordered dumbstruck as the man slowly lowered himself to sit next to Adam. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting on and placing it between his lips as he stared up at the sky, “This damned humidity makes it impossible to sleep.”

Adam could only nod in agreement.

He looked up at the sky taking a drag on the end of his cigarette causing the tip to flare once before dying away.

You’re right, not much a man can see of the stars here.”

Adam nodded tentatively, opening his mouth, “That was you, at the guard post? You saw me?”

“You aren't exactly one built for sneaking, son, white as a bare ass.”

Adam blushed and shuffled his feet, “Sorry sir, couldn’t sleep.”

Sergeant Kimball looked back up at the sky, “Tell you what, why don’t you and me go for a little drive.”

Adam wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that. Getting in the car alone with their MTI seemed like a great way to get himself singled out, but he couldn’t imagine how he could say no to this man either, so instead he just nodded and stood. Sgt. Kimball led him down through the base and towards the parking lot before the main building pulling the keys to a hover jeep out from one of his pockets. Adam got into the passenger seat using the frame to halt himself into the seat and sit down as the man began to drive. The vehicle was open, and so there wasn’t much conversation as they spend through the night, wind rushing past them in great usts as they sped up the highway, other vehicles roaring past them.

Adam closed his eyes feeling the rush of air over his skin as he leaned his head out the open side and into the night.

They left the city behind crawling out into the desert of scrub brush dark under the night sky above. The city lights faded into the distance, slowly replaced by blackness overhead. Stars began to wink into place, the brightest first followed by their dimer counterparts.

He closed his eyes, lifting his face to the sky in awe feeling a thrill in his chest as the desert passed by them on both sides and the sky grew darker, until it was possible to see the distant milky lines of their galaxy’s arm extending into the darkness.

It didn’t fail to cross his mind that he was alone with Sgt Kimball in the middle of the desert, a prime place to kill someone and bury their body, but generally tended to hope that he wasn’t going to die.

He didn’t think Sgt. Kimball hated him that much.

They pulled off down a dirt track and pulled to a stop with the sky arrayed above them. 

He clambered out of the car at the instruction of Sgt Kimball who sat himself on the hood of the vehicle and stared up at the sky.

“Beautiful isn’t it.” The man commented 

Adam nodded eyes filled to the brim with glowing white stars.

Sgt. Kimball looked over at him, “You’re serious about this.” it wasn’t a question 

Adam nodded.

Kimll leaned back against the windshield kicking one of his feet up onto the hood while dangling his other foot off the side, “A lot of those kids back there couldn't give two shits about what we do.” he glanced over at Adam, “You on the other hand, you try, pay attention in the classes, spend your free time studying while those little assholes fuck around.” He lit another cigarette, “I always know when someone is going to make it, and you, you will.”

Adam frowned a bit skeptically, “Er….. thank you sir but, I Thought you…. I thought you thought I was a dumbass.”

Sgt Kimball laughed, “Because you are, son. But the world is run by two types of people, assholes or dumbasses, and quite frankly, I tend t find myself liking dumbasses more than I like assholes.”

A cloud of smoke billowed up from his lips as he pointed up at the sky, “I’m assuming you know where Polaris is?”

Adam nodded and pointed with a finger.

“People been guiding themselves by her light for thousands of years, soon enough we'll be sailing the stars and she won’t be so useful anymore.” he paused, “I think we should visit her when we can, seems like it would only be fair to pay homage to the most important star in human history…. Second to the sun I suppose.”

Adam stared at Sgt. Kimball mouth half open. He didn’t think there was particularly anything poetic about the man.

“Shut your mouth boy, leave it open too long and something might nest in it.”

He closed his mouth and turned away, lifting his head to the sky above staring towards  Polaris, which winked at him from the distant expanse of space.”

***

“Get out.”

“But.”

“BET OUT! If you want to sleep inside than you have to prove you deserve it.” Chalan flinched back as the door was slammed in her face taking a step back into the moss as the sound of her mother’s voice echoed through the night. Inside she could hear raised voices, an argument rising up in the night.

“You dishonor yourself .”

“Dishonor myself Kazna, or dishonor you dishonor yourself.”

“You are too soft on her.”

“And you are a traitor to your own family. As her mother it is your job to protect and love her. It is NOT conditional.”

“You are weak Lanus, and your ideals will make her weak.”

Chalan turned her head away and trudged her way through the village trying to ignore the eyes on her as she could see peeping out the little windows in the side of the huts. As she walked her feet kicked up bioluminescent moss spores, which glowed as they moved and wet dormant as they lay still calling attention to her movements as she made her way through the open streets and out towards the edge.

The city watch ignored her as she passed by them. Spores clung to her feet and heels making her feet glow with every step as she walked into a small patch of coil tree, their berries glowing white in the darkness. She picked one idly and rolled it between her fingers. Behind her, she heard the sudden soft padding of feet, crouched low she spun spear held out before her in a defensive stance, sure she was about to be set upon by an enemy tribe, but instead was surprised to find Nehchal and Kanan standing behind her. Nechal glowing like one of the moons with her bright white carapace, Kanan blending into the darkness behind in comparison.

She blinked “What are you two doing here.”

Nechal raised her spear, “Watching your back for the night is dangerous.”

Chalan sighed, ‘You could just be honest with me.”

“You know I don’t lie.” Nechal said falling into step beside Sunny as Kanan did the same on her other side.

“You guys don’t have to.” As they walked, their feet lit up with the bioluminescent spores.’

It was a safe enough time of year. The spores could be easily seen across long distances in the dark, and so an arriving raiding part would have to be stupid to come at night. Even now, in the distance, she could see a slow line of spores ascending into the sky as a herd of  unknown creatures passed over the fertile valley before ethem.

Kanan placed a hand on her shoulder, “Why don’t we sit, this seems as good a palace asanhy.”

Chalan shrugged and sat in the moss as she tilted her head back towards the sky. She tried not to think too much about Nechal and Kanan being here. They had probably been spending time together before the argument between her parents broke out. If it wasn’t for her they might be having a nice night together.

“Do you think we are the only ones?” Nechal asked into the darkness 

Kanan looked over ather, “The only ones what/”

Nechal waved one of her hands upward, “The acolytes say we live on a floating rock in the middle of the void. That void is lit by burning gasses of unknown providence, so my question is, are we the only floating rock or are there other things living out there?”

Kanan laughed while Chalan stayed silent, “Definitely the only ones.”

“You think so?

“Doctrine of the citadel doesn't mention anyone else?”

“The doctrine also doesn’t talk about coil trees, but those still exist.”

Chalan lay there listening to their banter as she looked up at the sky. It was a good question, and if there was life out there, what would it be like? She tried imagining fanciful creatures to populate these unknown worlds, but found that it was hard to imagine anything that didn’t resemble something already their own. Not like i mattered anyway, it was unlikely any of them would ever find out.

She did her best to block the arguments from her parents of earlier and listened to the distant roaring of the mountain volcanoes glowing red on the distant horizon.

Nehchal pointed her hand up into the sky, “Look, Chalan, Eedacheel. It’s bright tonight.”

Sunny turned her head to the southern star.

“Beautiful.” Kanan whispered 

“That’s my favorite story.” 

“What?”

“Eedacheel, the spirit that guides, the spirit that brings Drev together. Remember, they say she guides us to those we love.”

The two of them shared a long look and Sunny had to stop from rolling her eyes at them. She stared up at the star Eedacheel had never done anything for her. She stared at the softly winking star. All she saw was distant and unattainable. If there was a spirit, it certainly didn’t care about her.,

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

The love I have for him in sweatpants is unexplainable, he looks so cozy, like a college student walking to class on a Monday morning type shit. Ugh lord just take me know because I can’t

That’s biology student!Harry running late for an early lab so he threw on whatever he found first— a random t-shirt and a pair of tie-dye sweats that had been on his beanbag chair for a month now— and had rushed out of his apartment in a panicked frenzy (Dr. Dickensberg— or as students refer to him behind his back, Dickberg— had told him that if he was late again, he wouldn’t let him in or allow him to redo the lab, which Harry thinks is ridiculous because he’d only ever been late one other time and it was because there had been an on-campus car wreck blocking the parking lot of the science building). He’s finger-combing his hair as he slings his backpack over one shoulder, quickly jogging down the cement stairs with only one of his tennis shoes on and the other tucked under his arm, half a piece of gum cracking and popping in his mouth. He found in the pocket of his pants and it gives him something to do with his teeth, rather than grind them in anger.

He has hopes that maybe his lab partner— Y/N— had better luck than him this morning, because then if he’s late, at least he can get any important notes from her. That dream is crushed when he steps out of the complex and spots her scurrying out of the one beside him, looking in just as bad a shape as he is. It’s pretty obvious, seen in the way she’s wearing oversized olive green sweats and mix-matched socks, how her hair is in a half-assed ponytail (it’s required to have your hair back during labs, lest you lose 10 points right off the bat), and she looks utterly mortified as she sprints across the damp ground towards her car, lugging her bag along while she juggles a few extra books in her arms.

Harry nearly has a conniption right then and there.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

He speed-walks over to his car— which is coincidentally parked beside hers— and she’s so unhinged as she tries to find her keys that she nearly screams when his vehicle beeps.

When her eyes land on Harry, she looks like she’s about to have an aneurysm, as well. “Oh my God, I thought you’d—”

“Be on campus by now?” He finishes, yanking his door open and chucking his belongings into his back seat. He shoves the key in the ignition, sighing sharply as the car purrs to life and the heating immediately kicks in. He’s going to have to wait a bit while the engine warms up, so he proceeds to start working on putting on his other sneaker as he glances at her over the hood of his car. “In an ideal world, I would be.”

“Fuck, I was hoping I could—”

“Get the notes from me if Dickberg doesn’t let you in?” Harry finishes for her yet again, a mildly amused scoff puffing from his chapped lips as he ties off a double knot on his laces. “Great minds think alike, it seems.”

“Irresponsible minds, more like it.” Y/N releases a surrendered groan, and for a second, she entertains the idea of walking onto the road and begging her lab partner to run her over, just for the sake of sparing her all of the misery this mishap is going to bring. “Christ, we’re fucked. Absolutely fucked.”

Harry nods solemnly, straightening out his back and rolling out his tense shoulders. He’d slept funky last night, which had resulted in him not getting any real rest for the majority of the last eight hours or so, which is what had then caused him to sleep through his alarm this morning. He thinks he should probably start taking some melatonin gummies like Niall had suggested, or maybe he should try that weird tea concoction he’d seen on TikTok the other day. He’s willing to give anything a shot, at this point. Even a club to the head. Bonus points if it sends him into a coma.

He tucks a few rouge curls away from his tired eyes, tapping his lanky fingers across his dashboard as he waits with hardly any patience. “He said today’s lesson would be on the exam.”

“Oh, thanks for the emotional support!” The girl snaps at him sarcastically, rolling her eyes up towards the dusky sky. “Knowing that will do wonders for my sanity.”

The brunette lets out a soft snort, contemplating his acquaintance for a second. She looks nice in green, he notices. And especially with her Hello Kitty and Spiderman socks, and her hair falling across her cheeks in silky wisps, and how loose her outfit fits her to the point where it seems like she’s being swallowed in cloth. Pretty cute.

Harry suddenly juts his chin towards her, tilting his head down symbolically to signal his car. “I’ll give you a ride, yeah? We’re headed to the same place anyway, and if we walk in together, maybe he won’t chew us out as bad.”

Y/N indulges a long sigh, the action stemming from both relief (she’s much too sleepy to drive right now, in all honesty) and exhaustion (mental more than anything). She shifts her books onto one of her hips and reaches for the handle of Harry’s passenger’s seat, the corners of her lips twitching with gratitude. “Thanks, Harry. Guess we’re going with the classic partner in crime technique, huh?”

The young man ducks down into his car, pulling his door shut as he turns on the wipers in order to get rid of the dew covering his windshield. “You know what they say: ‘Spreading the blame is easier than shouldering it on your own.’”

Y/N slumps down into the cushions of her spot, closing her door lightly and allowing herself to bask in the notes of Harry’s delicate yet manly aroma. He always smells like ocean salt, French vanilla, and lavender fabric softener, and though all those scents lie on very different points of the spectrum, it strangely works. It’s cozy and comforting, especially now, when they’re both headed to their public executions. “Valid point.”

Harry sets his car into reverse, throwing Y/N a playful smirk over his shoulder as he reaches for the screen on his console to pick out some music for the drive. “Scientifically proven, actually.”

“Maybe if you agree to write a paper on it, Dickberg will let us off the hook.”

“As long as you co-write, I’ll consider it.”

[hklnvgl]

OMG I'm so happy for you and super excited about your prompts celebration! If it sparks joy for you :D could you do a Pynch + "Congratulations! One of your dreams has finally come true. Let me give you a big hug and wow, you’re warm…" Thank you! <3

(pre-relationship, set around bllb)

Adam was distracted from his careful and quite-shivery considering of how worth it’d be to try and drive to school that morning by crunchy steps and a sharp laugh.

“Shit, Parrish. I’ll give you twenty bucks if you manage to start that engine today.”

“Good morning to you too, Lynch,” Adam said through gritted teeth as Ronan was finally illuminated by the almost-dead street light. “Never thought I’d ever see you out and about before 11 am. Who died?”

“Shut up. Asshole. I share first period Latin with you on Tuesdays.”

Adam wasn’t impressed by Ronan’s glare. “You here to offer me a ride?”

Adam’s watch said he had exactly fifteen minutes to get to Aglionby, get warm enough that shrugging his ratty windbreaker with outgrown-three-years-ago sleeves into his messenger bag didn’t sound like torture, and review the essay he’d blearily finished at four in the morning for World Hist. With clear roads and normal visibility, his car needed nine minutes to get from St. Agnes to school. That morning, there was a foot of snow trapping his tires.

“Didn’t bring the BMW.”

“So you walked here?”

Ronan shrugged. Adam would never make it on time if they had to walk.

“Fuck. Okay. Let’s get going, then.”

He’d only walked three steps when he felt something hitting his arm.

He blinked down, barely registering the snow crumbs sliding down his sleeve.

“Did you just throw a snow ball at me?”

“You walk too fast. If I’d ran after you I could’ve slid off and fell to death.”

Suddenly, Adam felt hot, despite the snow crunching under his shoes when he turned back to get into Ronan’s space.

“I don’t give a shit about whatever’s got you in such a good mood today. You fuck with me one single time more and I swear, Lynch—”

“There’s no school today,” Ronan rushed. “We got an e-mail half an hour ago. ‘Cause of the snow. Gansey tried calling the church, but the phone lines must have gone to shit or something because it didn’t go through. So I figured—you didn’t know.”

“There’s no school?” Adam repeated, because he must have heard wrong, because Aglionby wouldn’t cancel because of a bit of snow, because he could’ve used the past half an hour, since his alarm woke him, to catch up on sleep.

Ronan nodded. The street light blinked hard, and for a long second they were in the darkness. Adam could only hear Ronan’s heavy breathing.

The light came back to life.

Adam was so close he could see the fur lining the hood of Ronan’s very comfortable-looking parka. His own arm was starting to go numb from the cold because the snow Ronan had thrown at him was leaking into his blazer’s sleeve.

He felt angry all over again.

“Congratulations,” he sneered. “No school: one of your dreams has finally come true!” Ronan pinched his lips together and Adam smirked, vindicated. “Let me give you a big hug—we must celebrate!” He’d just wanted to press his wet sleeve into Ronan’s nape, and he’d figured Ronan would step back anyway, but before he knew it he was wrapping his shivering arms around Ronan’s neck, and Ronan was letting him, and the wind picked up around them but Adam couldn’t care less because his ear was being caressed by the long breath Ronan took. “Wow, you’re warm—,” he gasped, before he could help himself, because Ronan’s coat was soft to the touch, and his brain was realizing he didn’t need to be fully on alert for school so it was starting to shut back off.

“You need a better jacket,” Ronan said, and it didn’t sound like he was patronizing Adam or trying to make him feel like he didn’t know how to take care of himself.

Adam just nodded. Ronan’s arms circled briefly his waist before Adam decided it was getting too weird and overwhelming and took a step back.

He didn’t feel like sleeping anymore.

“You just woke up?” he asked.

Ronan cleared his throat. “Never went to sleep.”

Adam nodded towards the end of the street, pointing at the 24 diner round the corner.

“Breakfast?” he asked. He thought he could spy the hint of a smile in Ronan’s lips before Ronan turned and started leading the way.

[vantaenims]

bittersweet | yoongi

pairing: idol!yoongi x reader

genre: established relationship au | fluff, bit of angst

word count: 7.6k

warning/s: alcohol consumption.

summary: Being miles away from you, Yoongi’s starting to feel like he’s missing out in your life and he can’t help but be guilty about it hence the reason why he made it his mission to be with you as much as possible now that he’s back home.

Part of BTSGhostieBingo (idol!au prompt)

masterlist

all rights reserved © vantaenims - do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

—

Yoongi has his hand around the steering wheel, drumming his fingers against it whilst his other arm is placed beside the window, knuckles pressed against his temple as he impatiently stared at your door for about five minutes now. Unlocking his phone, he was about to text you again until a blue bubble popped up saying ‘wait’ as a reply to his first text when he told you he’s outside already, making him wonder what’s taking you so long.

During your call last night, you mentioned to Yoongi that you’re running low on food and that you’ll be going to the grocery store tomorrow, causing him to immediately tell you that he’ll join and accompany you even though he still has a song that he needs to work on which he didn’t told you since you’re probably going to decline his offer to help if you happen to know it.

It’s a song he’s been working on ever since the tour started which is exactly three and a half months ago but he only got to finalize it last night just so he could spend the weekend with you hence the reason why he’s running low on sleep for today but it’s not like that mattered to him right now.

Given the circumstances of his idol life, the majority of the time spent in your relationship is being far away from each other that’s why he tries to make up for the lost time by being with you almost every day ever since he got back last week.

Truth be told, Yoongi never really believed Long Distance Relationships could work and as a matter of fact, he thought that this relationship would just be some sort of a fling to him, bearing in mind that it’s hard for him to enter in a fully committed relationship given his hectic life but luckily, his opinion about it changed when you two somehow managed to make it work - for about two years already and more years to come.

His thoughts were then cut off as soon as he heard a knock coming off from the window of the passenger seat, unlocking the doors once he saw that it was only you whom he'd been waiting all this time.

“Finally, what were you doing for the past ten minutes?” 

“Hello” you greeted in such a cheery voice as you always do whilst you leaned towards Yoongi to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Did you just got out of the shower?” Yoongi chuckled as soon as he saw how the upper half of your hair is dry while the other half is still damp.

“Sorry, i just woke up when i read your text that you’re on your way” you said as you buckled yourself in your seat.

“I got out of my house at 2 p.m.” Yoongi said, looking at the time that’s displayed on his touch screen stereo, “What time did you sleep?”

“I think it was about 1:30 or 2 in the morning” 

“You’ve slept for twelve hours!?” Yoongi bewilderingly looked at you, slightly jealous at how you’ve managed to get a full sleep while he’s only running on four hours of sleep even though he willfully did that on purpose.

Of course, he wouldn’t tell you the lengths he had to go just so he could free his time for today  because knowing you, you’d probably scold him and tell him to just rest which he thinks is surprisingly the last thing he wants to do, not when time’s limited for him as he needs to leave in a few days to continue the tour.

“It’s just one of those lazy days” you said whilst yawning as you stretched your arms to fully awaken yourself.

“You haven’t eaten anything yet then?” 

“Not yet but I’m fine, I don’t really feel that hungry” you smiled, grabbing Yoongi’s free hand to intertwined them with yours when he gave you a discontented look that didn’t last for long as he return back the smile, raising your intertwined hands to kiss the back of your hand before he freed his hand to switch the gear.

Yoongi proceeded to drive towards the direction of the grocery store where the grocery is but he thought that a little detour won’t hurt, not when that detour is towards the Mcdonald’s Drive Thru.

“I’ll have the six pieces McNuggets meal and can you make the drink and fries into large, thanks.”

As soon as Yoongi got the paper bag, he then placed it on your lap as he continued to drive to exit the drive thru and onto your real destination, not even sparing you a look, making you laugh at how he’s still trying to appear so nonchalant after all these years when he does caring things like this but it’s fun to tease him when he’s acting to be one.

“Aww Yoongs, Thank you” you pinched his cheek which only caused him to scoff as he tried to remove your hand away from his face even though you could clearly see he’s trying to hide his smile as he rolled his eyes.

--

It has been a year since your relationship with Yoongi was announced to the public but you still have to be very cautious whenever you two go out in public as to not raise any unwanted attention and you were both given a set of rules that you need to abide with but there’s this one rule you always seem hard to follow - lessen any displays of affection in public as much as possible.

You put on your mask and put the hood of your jacket up once Yoongi turned off the engine as he followed you in disguising himself, wearing his black bucket hat and mask. As you got out of the car, your hand instinctively went to reach towards Yoongi’s until you realized the situation you both are in, causing you to keep your hands inside the pockets of your jacket as you walked distantly beside him. 

It was weird for you to act so secretive when you two started to date and it was way too hard when you both have to keep your meetings a secret when your relationship got official like that time when you were told that you can only eat out in public at this designated place which is an exclusive restaurant that’s owned by one of Yoongi’s trusted friends for the sake of protecting both of your privacy.

Eventually, talks about your relationship with Yoongi gradually died down after it was publicly announced as time passed by though it can’t be helped that it’ll be sometimes brought up in one of their interviews even though it’s totally unnecessary in the first place but you guessed that you just have to live and deal with it.

“What do you want for dinner?” Yoongi asked as he got one of the carts from the aisle, volunteering to push it around while you scan for food.

“Are you going to cook dinner?” you looked back at him with wide eyes, a surge of excitement crashing at the news.

Yoongi knows how big of a fan you are of his cooking and he’s certain about it because you basically bombard him with messages whenever you get a sudden craving for it or how you’ll express your disappointment whenever you buy something he would cook only for it to be compared, saying how it’ll never taste as good as his which he’s taken pride of.

“Does steak and mashed potatoes sound good?” Yoongi asked as he put the frozen sirloin into the empty cart only to see that it wasn't empty anymore as he spotted the bottle of red wine.

“I knew you’d say my favorite, that’s why i got the wine”

“You never liked the taste of wine”, Yoongi stated, remembering that time he brought a wine with him when he visited your house only for it to be only consumed by him as you can never stand anything that tastes bitter which is one of the things he first learned about you.

But there was that one instance when you got him amused when you decided that you’ll be drinking with him although it’s totally way out from what he expected. The memory is still as clear as day when he remembered you walking out of his kitchen with a wine glass on hand  that you placed on the centerpiece table of his living room.

“Are you going to have a wine?” Yoongi asked with his brows raised, settling his glass filled with wine on top of the table.

“I thought it’s not fair for you to drink alone so might as well join you” you adjusted yourself as you sat down on the carpeted floor beside Yoongi.

“You really don’t have to drink -” Yoongi didn’t get to finish his sentence when you whipped out a grape juice box behind your back, watching as you poked the covered hole with it’s straw to squeeze out the contents into the glass.

“Cheers?” you said as you swirled the liquid in the glass, making it look as if it’s the same wine he’s drinking and Yoongi can’t help but laugh at your quirky attempt. 

“A grape juice?”

“Hey, wine is also a grape juice except it’s fermented and i can never like anything that tastes bitter so what do you expect?” you reasoned out but nonetheless find the whole thing funny too.

Yoongi can only watch in delight as you get more defensive about the topic of grape juice vs wine, convincing him that both of the beverages are sourced from the same fruit, the only difference is that the other one tastes bitter whilst the other one tastes sweet.

“It’s okay baby, it’s the thought that counts” 

You stopped yourself from talking as soon as you heard the term of endearment come out of Yoongi’s mouth. It was always you who would call him ‘baby’ until now and you can’t help but blush as you try to conceal your growing smile when you remember what Jungkook told you.

“You are indeed cute when you’re drunk” you looped your arm around his as you rested your chin on his shoulder to kiss his cheek, making his smile bigger.

Yoongi clinked his glass with yours before he downed the remaining wine in one go as he try to quickly cover up the embarrassment he felt although there’s no use in hiding it anymore once he felt how warm his face feels like, not knowing if it’s the effect of the alcohol or if it’s your effect - obviously, it’s you.

--

“Can we grab a coffee first before we leave?” Yoongi asked once he felt his energy slowly depleting, the cup of coffee he had in the morning clearly out of his system now that he’s feeling a bit grumpy which is more of a reason that he needs to refuel with caffeine.

“Sure” you said as you closed the trunk of the car after you helped him load the groceries, following Yoongi to the cafe that’s right beside the grocery store.

Thankfully, there aren’t many people dining inside the cafe that’s why you’ve gotten to the counter right away as Yoongi did the work of telling your orders to the attendant whilst you scanned the cakes that are displayed as you munch on a pack of Skittles you got back in the store.

“Do you want anything else?” Yoongi asked just before he could finalize the orders.

“I’m fine, there’s no red velvet cake” you said as you managed to stand beside Yoongi, a piece of Skittles in between your fingers ready to go straight to Yoongi’s mouth until you stopped when you felt the cashier attendant’s gaze on you as if she’s trying to recall why you looked so familiar.

You’ve clearly forgotten that you’re still out in public and that your face is perfectly visible as you’ve lowered your mask to eat but it’s too late to hide your identity as you saw how her eyes widened once she recognized who you are. She definitely got starstruck once she glanced beside you where Yoongi’s standing though she remained professional and offered a smile towards the both of you which you both gladly returned with a bow of your head.

“Your orders will be ready in a while”, she said as she handed the receipt to Yoongi who let out a little chuckle as you both made your way towards the claiming area, still finding it hilarious how you quickly retrieved your hand to eat the candy instead when the attendant recognized you.

“I think i should eat this later” you muttered as you placed the mask back again on your face, sealing the pack of candy for later. 

Looking over your side, you bumped your hips against Yoongi’s when you saw his shoulders still visibly shake from laughter and how his eyes turned into little crescents from smiling. 

Yoongi went over the counter as soon as your orders were called, getting his Iced Americano while he handed to you your Caramel Macchiato, muttering a thank you to the staff as you made your way out of the shop and back to the parking lot.

“Ah finally, i could eat in peace” you said as you got inside the car, discarding your mask and taking your hood down. You reopened the pack of Skittles, pouring them over your palm as you straight out put it on your mouth and also pouring more for Yoongi but he offered his palm instead when you reached your hand out to feed it to him.

“Say ah” you said as you picked one piece of candy instead, zooming in your finger like an airplane into his mouth.

“What am i? A child?” Yoongi playfully grimaced but obeyed nonetheless as you popped them into his mouth.

“Yes you are” you chuckled, resting back in your seat as you raised your leg to tuck it under the other leg, “Why don’t we play a game and you try to guess the flavor of the skittle i’ll feed you?”

You strictly instructed Yoongi that he could not cheat and inspect the color of the candy, telling him he could only look straight ahead at the road, causing him to laugh, saying how he’s going to look straight either way as he needs to keep his attention on driving you both home safely.

“Raspberry”, Yoongi said in full certainty.

“How can you tell Raspberry apart from Wild Cherry?” you squint your eyes at him, skeptical if he cheated or he’s just really good at guessing it because you’re positive that those two flavors taste exactly the same - for you, atleast.

“Maybe my sense of taste is better than yours”

“Yeah you’ve got all the flavors right” you’re impressed to say the least as you try to feed Yoongi another piece of Wild Cherry to test him again until he gently grabbed your hand to stop you as he felt his throat itch from eating too much sweets.

“Doesn’t your throat itch from eating too much sweets?” Yoongi looked over at you, watching as you devoured the candy you were going to feed him instead and as if that isn’t sweet enough, you grabbed your caramel based beverage to sip on it which just made Yoongi cringe in distaste.

“I just really like anything that’s sweet”

“You’re going to get Diabetes at an early age” Yoongi warned as he always has but he knows that his warning will just be disregarded as you continue to satisfy your sweet cravings as you always do.

“That’s why i’m eating as much sweets as i can before i’ll not be able to”

“What kind of logic is that?” 

“You like anything that’s bitter as much as I like sweets so shut up” you shrugged as you pointed out but you totally get that he’s just looking out for you and you appreciate that.

“I atleast won’t get any chronic disease from it”, Yoongi retorted, chuckling at how silly this banter is to begin with and that reminded how adverse you two are and he’s not just talking about your taste preferences but personality wise too.

You and Yoongi are too different from each other - you’re more of an outgoing and friendly person while he is more reserved and quiet one. All his life, Yoongi thought he’d prefer someone who’s similar to him yet here he is, eating up his own thoughts as he eventually got you and he’s not saying that as a bad thing because he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your relationship is a living testimony that opposites do attract and it’s not as bad as what everyone makes it out to be though there were still a lot of differences and barriers you both have to overcome in the beginning of the relationship which he thinks is inevitable for every relationship to work.

The reason why you two get along so well is because you complement and balance each other, like how you both are able to strengthen each other’s weaker aspects. You’re always able to get him out of his comfort zone and he could always let you be vulnerable to him, let you out of that happy facade you’re always trying to keep up.

In conclusion, you bring out the best in him and he could hope you felt that way about him too, making you two a perfect pair, not even minding a bit how cheesy that thought is to him because it’s only a matter of fact.

--

“Why are you still here?” Yoongi sets aside the sirloin he’s been seasoning, getting distracted how you’re standing so close to him as you peer over his shoulders at what he’s doing much like a curious kid.

“What should i do next?” you asked him for the second time even though Yoongi told you that he’ll just call you whenever dinner’s ready but you’re so persistent in helping him out, causing him to gave in as he told you that you can set up the table which he think is done now that you’re pestering him again.

“Lounge in the sofa, i guess” 

“But i want to help you, Yoongs” you whined, making him chuckle, “Should i peel these potatoes?”

“I’ll do it” Yoongi grabbed the potato from you as well as the bowl that’s filled with it, keeping it close to his side so that you won’t be able to touch it and help him like what you’re suggesting, keeping in mind that he’s doing all of this to make up for the times he’s away.

Guilt would always creep up on him whenever he’s far away from you because you don’t deserve to be neglected like this, dating someone who’s mostly physically absent that’s why he’s doing the most of his ability as much as he can whenever comes back home so that he could actually fulfill the duties and responsibilities of being your boyfriend.

“Let me atleast wash the dishes later then?” you frowned with a pout, causing Yoongi to shake his head at you as he sheepishly smiled.

“Fine if that’ll get you to stop” Yoongi kissed your forehead before he diverted back his attention towards the potatoes but before he could even do so, you grabbed both sides of his face as you inched towards him until he felt your warm lips on his.

Yoongi closed his eyes as he kissed you back, hands almost going towards your waist to reel you in once you kissed him fervently until he remembered how his hands are still dirty and covered with sauce and seasonings for the steak but that didn’t stop him from wanting to deepen the kiss as he slowly tilted his head to the side only for you to break the kiss.

“Right, you don’t need my help” you teased as you peck him once more and also patted his bum right before you left to disappear towards the living room.

Yoongi scoffed that you got him stunned for a moment but nonetheless busied himself as he went back in preparing the dinner that didn’t take too much time to finally get it ready now that you’re not there to bother him anymore.

Withdrawing a plate from your cabinet, Yoongi then began to place the mashed potato first whilst he set the steak beside it, dripping some sauce around it as he tried to recreate those  plating presentations that’s normally seen in high end restaurants.

Yoongi grinned as soon as he entered the dining area, catching the sight of how you set the table into some sort of a candlelit dinner that’s accompanied with pieces of nearly wilted rose petals which he suspected came from the bouquet he bought for you last week but it now surrounds the four sides of the table.

“Y/N! Dinner’s ready” Yoongi called out as he placed the plates on the table. It didn’t take less than five seconds before you emerged in the dining room with a delighted look adorning your face.

“Oh wow it smells really good” you enclosed Yoongi in a back hug as you tipped your toes to kiss him on the cheek, “Thank you, baby.”

Yoongi hummed as he pulled your chair back, guiding you to sit before he made his way to his place as the gentleman he is. Picking up the bottle of wine, uncorking it as he poured it over his glass and onto yours right after but he let the mouth of the bottle hover on the rim of your glass before letting it pour as he looked at you.

“You sure you’d like some wine?” 

“It’s fine”

“If you say so” Yoongi smirked, filling your glass up even though he knows full well that you’re only going to take a sip or two before giving it all up. Clinking both of your glasses, Yoongi watches you whilst he takes a sip of his wine only for him to chuckle after he has seen you scrunching your nose from the bitter taste. 

“It tastes better with this” Yoongi said as he cut up a portion of his steak to feed you with it. The dissatisfied look on your face now gone as the bitterness mixed with the savory taste only made the flavor stronger.

“Your brother told me he taught you how to cook one”

“Yeah, how’d you know that?” Yoongi tried to rack his brain, recalling if he had ever informed you that his brother is the one who taught him to master the art of cooking but he can’t remember telling you that, knowing how he likes to take credit in his cooking skills.

“Your mom invited me over to their house on my birthday and your brother took in charge of cooking the food. I’ve sent you pictures, remember?”

You took out your phone to went over your photo gallery, scrolling over the pictures until it landed over the series of photos you took on the day of your birthday, showing Yoongi a picture of you and Holly nicely cuddled up in the sofa, earning a warm smile from him and on the corner of the picture he spotted the bouquet of tulips he assumes is the one he arranged in advance right by the local flower shop near you, instructing them to deliver it on your doorstep with some note he had written himself.

Lastly, you showed him the selfie you’ve taken on the dining table that’s filled with a sumptuous meal along with his whole family gathering around - his mom, dad, older brother and Holly whom his brother carried in his arms to fit in the picture. 

“I’m glad you had fun” Yoongi gave you a faint smile as he felt his guilt creeping up on him once again.

It has been two months since he had dearly missed your birthday because of the tour and he felt bad for missing out on a special day like this but that’s how it’s always going to be and he hates how this is conceived to be normal in your relationship when it’s unfair, specially for you.

You must’ve noticed his mood faltering a bit as you’ve put your phone down the table, placing your hand on top of him to squeeze it, making him stop focusing on slicing over his steak as he directed his eyes at you to give you a warm smile that indicates not to worry about him.

“I think the tour must’ve been a whole lot of fun, no? How was it this time?” you said, sipping on your wine that had you still scrunching your nose though albeit less noticeable now as you get more accustomed to the taste.

“It’s still great but more than ever now that we get to see more of our fans” Yoongi beamed a smile, taking pride how their hard work and the support from their fans has taken them to where they are now like how they were able to do stadium tours around the world or how they’re able to play concerts in places they’ve never imagine which is something beyond their goal and expectations.

“I’m proud of all of you and will always be, how about we toast on that?” you raise your glass as you take a big gulp of the alcohol out of courage which is a totally bad idea as it had made you immediately regret it, coughing up the bitterness away, causing you to give up the drink all in all.

“Just grab your grape juice from the fridge” Yoongi suggested, chuckling when you stood up to go over the kitchen to do as told and guessed right that you’ll never be able to withstand the alcohol.

The dinner went on with Yoongi urging you to talk more about what you’ve been doing lately but you protested that it has been practically boring and uneventful like his which he interjected that it goes the same for him as well. Apart from performing, he spent most of his time holed up in his hotel room to produce and compose songs or sleep like you’ve never known this or how he’ll just go out to buy some music equipment he needs for his studio.

He’s pretty sure you’ve told him over the phone the story of how you’ve managed to step on a puddle that reached up to your shins on your way home from work, remembering how you’ve complained that it ruined your favorite pair of suede flats.

“Have i told you about this before?” you said, noticing how he continues to smile unfazed like he’s already familiar with this story.

“Yeah but go on” Yoongi assured you that he doesn’t mind at all if he’s heard it before. Nothing compares to all those facetimes and phone calls because this is what he truly missed - getting to talk to you in person with no distance and time difference in between you two.

Soon as you know it, the table looks almost empty now that all the food are completely gone except for Yoongi’s wine glass that’s still filled with the alcohol as he still continuously drink from it while you opted to go for dessert and eat the cookies ‘n cream ice cream flavored you’ve got in the grocery.

The conversation’s still pretty going at this point with you doing most of the talking as you relaxly laid back against the chair with your crossed legs and Yoongi would just stare at you as he rested his elbow against the table with his cheeks pressed against his palm, casually laughing or putting in a few words.

“Tired?” you asked once you noticed his half lidded eyes and how he’s blinking them ever so slowly.

“No, i’m just a bit buzzed i guess” Yoongi denied as he tried to fight off the exhaustion but you did not buy his excuse as you abandoned your pint of ice cream by placing it on the table to stand up and get the plates to put them towards the sink.

Yoongi tailed behind you as he got the pint of ice cream to put them back in the freezer and the wine glasses which you got off of his hand as soon as he was next to you.

“I got this, why don’t you go up and pick something to watch”

“I’m not tired” you laughed now that Yoongi’s cute side is starting to come out as he placed his head on your shoulders with his arms around yours whilst you opened the faucet to run down water over the kitchenwares.

“Just go and let me do this” you turned around to push him away from you with all your might though it’s useless as he stubbornly stood his ground but nonetheless let you guide him when you grabbed his hand and led him towards the end of the stairs.

Standing on the first step, Yoongi leaned down to leave a kiss on top of your head that had you giggling whilst he told you to hurry up before he ascended to leave you to do your task. You ran back to the kitchen as you cleaned up the place as quickly as possible but still making sure not to miss a spot.

You wiped your wet hands with a towel now that you’re done with the dishes which leaves you to your routine of checking every corner of the first floor - unplugging the appliances, getting your water container in the fridge, and securely double checking the locks.

As you went up and open the door to your room, you were immediately greeted with a dimly lit light setting thanks to the television and on the edge of your bed, you see Yoongi clad in a loose white shirt and gray shorts that has been kept in your closet for times he chooses to stay over in your place as he drys his hair with the towel on his hands, signifying that he had just gotten out fresh from the shower.

“What are we going to watch?” you asked as you stood in front of Yoongi to grab the towel from his hand so that you could do the work of drying his hair instead.

“What do you want? I haven’t seen anything that’s interesting yet” Yoongi grabbed your waist to set you aside so he could have a good view of the television as he clicked on the remote to scan the films but still remained his hand on your waist even though you’re not obstructing the view anymore.

“Well, you decide. I’ll join you in a second” you detach yourself from Yoongi’s hold as you go over to your closet to grab some comfortable clothes to change into. You let the damp towel dry as you hang it on your chair before you could enter your bathroom to take a quick shower.

With his hair damp and unruly, Yoongi got up to go over your vanity table where your hair comb is as he drag it along his hair until he noticed the corkboard hanging on your wall just beside the table which he has never seen before, guessing you might’ve put it up while he was away.

It was filled with polaroid pictures of the both of you but mostly of Yoongi and he looked unaware in mostly all of it as you like to candidly take pictures of him but there are also random things attached to it like movie tickets, flower petals, and other things you deemed sentimental but what catches his attention the most is the tissue with some scribbled words on it.

It was a tissue from Baskin Robbins and it has a badly drawn stick figure on it with a text bubble on the side - ‘It’ll be okay’ is what’s written on it. The smudged black ink giving away that it has been sometime ago - two years ago to be precise.

If he remembers it right, he had drawn this when he picked you up from work that time and you remained silent for the whole ride, reasoning that it’s just one of those bad days at work. 

It was also a time when you still find it hard to be vulnerable around him given how the both of you just started dating and that just gave him an idea to go to an ice cream store first on the way to your house, knowing how sweets could always lift your spirits up.

You both got settled inside the car once you got your ice cream and finally be on your way to your house which is something you’ve been dying to do ever since you got from work. Yoongi’s clearly concerned for you but you’re glad he’s not pushing you to say anything but at the same time you felt bad for being silent for the whole time, not wanting to pass the burden you’re feeling.

“Here, have some tissue with you” Yoongi handed it over to you as he got the car out of the parking area until he felt your hand on top of his.

“Thank you, Yoongi” you said with glassy eyes and he’s glad that it’s what took for you to confide in him and for you to start trusting him enough that you managed to show the weak side you’re trying to conceal from him at the start.

Yoongi removed his hand from the tissue at the sound of the bathroom door opening as you came out with a towel wrapped around your hands, dressed in one of those short sleeved top and bottom silk pajama sets he got for you back when he was in Japan.

“I didn’t know you kept this”, Yoongi said with a smile tugging on his face.

You discarded your clothes towards the hamper as you came closer to Yoongi to see that he’s pertaining about the board you’ve recently hung, making you flushed at how he’s not supposed to even see how you keep every piece of something that just reminds you of your time with Yoongi but it’s just the way you are with how those pieces serves as a token of your memory.

“Yeah, I know it’s weird” you said as you look over the board and spot the receipt from the restaurant you both have your first date, embarrassed even more as you sit on the chair to remove the towel from your head as you focus instead on keeping it dry.

“It’s not weird, baby”

Yoongi enjoys making you fluster as much as you like doing it to him too that’s why he’s taken this as an opportunity to tease you more. He took the towel from your hand as he gently blotted and squeezed it against your hair much like what you did to him awhile ago, setting aside the hair you purposely let down to cover your face to the side and place it behind your ear.

“Ow be gentle, let me do it” you complained when Yoongi yanked your hair a bit as he combed through the tangles.

“Sorry, let me just take care of you” Yoongi swatted your hand away but his sweet words got you giggling and also a blushing mess.

As soon as your hair got fully combed, you stood up as Yoongi grabbed your wrist to drag you with him on the bed. He first got himself settled as he sat down with his back pressed against your headboard whilst he pulled you in to let you sit in between his legs, encircling his arms around you as you laid the back of your head on his chest.

“I really can’t find anything fun to watch, why don’t you choose?”

Getting the remote on the nightstand, you scan through the wide variety of movies as you read the plot and watch each trailer but nothing piqued your interest much as what Yoongi told you, sighing in discontentment as you turn off the television.

“Do you want to listen to some music instead?” you suggested, looking up to see Yoongi nod in agreement. You turned on the bluetooth speaker as you paired it with your phone, searching for some songs to play until you just thought of an idea that had you stifling your laughter.

“Ah why play this one?” 

Yoongi’s proud of his recently released mixtape but you had him cringing upon hearing Daechwita play which is the least thing he’s expecting for you to choose. His mixtape just doesn’t fit the mood right now, he’s thinking you’ll be playing those mellow songs you could easily sleep and cuddle into which is something he feels like doing tonight.

“Why? It’s your song” you chuckled even though you can’t clearly see Yoongi’s reaction right now but you just know he’s scrunching his face, “Fine, i’ll change it.”

You chose another mixtape to play and that is Honne’s No Song Without You. Pressing shuffle, the track By My Side instantly played that got you smiling as you remember how you thought of Yoongi when you first heard this song. Actually, all love songs remind you of Yoongi if that isn’t cheesy enough.

Humming along to the song, you grabbed Yoongi’s hand to face his palm towards you as you set your palm against his just to compare how small your hand is compared to him. You decided to trace along the lines with your fingers as you write down the letters of the word that perfectly describes what Yoongi is to you - Home.

“Are you going to do some palm reading and tell me about my future?”

“Hmm your future’s still pretty bleak but there’s one thing that’s clear”

“And what is it?”

“I’m in it” you said that had you giggling which also caused Yoongi to do the same.

“Of course you are”, Yoongi hugged you tighter, swaying the both of you side to side as he kissed your cheek.

You twisted your body to the side so that you’ll be able to put your arms around his neck, the side of your face still remaining on his chest whilst you closed your eyes as you get even more comfortable in this position until you’ve thought of a better idea to make it more comfortable or rather relaxing for Yoongi.

“Lay down on your stomach” you commanded, sitting up straight that made Yoongi’s hold loosen around you.

“Why?”

“Let me take care of you” you repeated the words he told you, sitting yourself on the other side of the bed as you watched Yoongi plopped the side of his head on the pillow where he also kept his arms under. You then straddled his waist after he got himself settled, pressing both of your palms on his shoulder blades, massaging it gently to untie the knots.

Ever since Yoongi got back from tour, he did as much to be with you and to literally take care of you which didn’t go unnoticed - he helped you in assembling your bookshelf that you never bothered to open or how he even changed one of the bulbs from your chandelier that you didn’t notice had burnt out already. 

“Your muscles are a bit tense” you said as you dug the heel of your palm to apply more pressure to his shoulder that had Yoongi humming in pleasure, “Have you even rested properly ever since you got back?”

“I’m okay” you sighed, grabbing his shoulders as you instructed him to turn around so that he could face you but you remained to be straddling him still.

“Yoongi, you’re almost with me everyday and i know that you’re still working on some songs”

The least thing he wants right now is to make you worry about him because he’s the one that should be worrying about you when you’re always the one that’s being left behind here and no, he’s not actually worried but scared that it might literally happen with the two of you growing apart that one day you’ll wake up and suddenly feel the whole long distance thing to be overwhelming and unbearable.

“I just feel guilty for leaving you here and i also want to make the most out of the days i have left with you” Yoongi finally confessed as he sat himself up to be closer to you, hands on your waist as he drew circles on your exposed skin where your shirt rose up before his other hand made way to the side of your face to reel you in for a kiss.

Yoongi bit your lower lip, causing you to slightly open your mouth which he took as a sign for him to slid in his tongue to clash it with yours, making sure to kiss you gently and passionately as he could as he pour his raw feelings into it, wanting to savour the moment slowly rather than taking it in a rush.

The kiss was nothing but pure longing for each other - longing for all the times you’ve missed and for the time he’ll leave again which will be in three days to continue the Asian leg tour. It isn’t also a bad thing because when he comes to think of it, it’s the last part of the tour but that still isn’t an excuse to make Yoongi feel guilty again as he’ll be gone in a span of three months.

It was clear that your kiss is getting more eager as you play with the hair on the nape of his neck, pulling him in close as much as possible when you wrapped your legs around his waist whilst your other hand has made its way under his shirt, resting it above his chest where you can feel his heart that’s beating erratically.

You’re making it hard for Yoongi to take this slow reason why he detached his lips from yours, chuckling when he heard you emit a disappointed grunt but not for long when his warm lips then invaded the base of your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he work his way up to your jaw, pecking the side near your ear as he whispered.

“I’ve missed you”

He was about to kiss your cheek until you pulled him in by his shoulders, snuggling your face into the crook of his neck that had him quite puzzled at the sudden action but nonetheless let you do so as the both of you stayed like that for a while - you sitting on his lap with your legs around his waist and your arms securely around his neck, head still hiding from him while he rubbed your back and gently caressed your hair.

The warmth of your bodies and gentle touches against each other are exchanged between the two of you, not minding how you’re just basking in the silence as you solely focus on enjoying each other’s presence with the music making everything seem so melodramatic and it was just one of those moments you’d call to be bittersweet.

The silence between you two was soon gone as he heard you sniffling, alarming him even more when he felt hot tears falling onto his neck. Yoongi tried to pry you away as he leaned back to get a proper look at you but that just made you tighten your arms around him, burying your face even more into his neck.

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, chuckling a bit to mask the reason why you’ve suddenly gotten so  upset, “It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure about that?” Yoongi asked as he laid back down the mattress, joining you with him.

“I'm sorry, it’s just that i still can’t get quite used to it” your voice was muffled but he perfectly heard you and catched on that you’re referring to him leaving so soon again. Finally, he was able to see your face as you adjusted yourself, wiping the tears as you pressed one of your hands on his chest where you rested the side of your face onto.

“You don’t have to be sorry about it” Yoongi comforted you as he gently ran his thumbs along your cheek, “I should be the one saying sorry to you.”

“Yoongs, you don’t have to be sorry about it too” you leaned in towards his touch as you rested your hand on top of his that’s cradling your face, earning Yoongi a smile. 

“I know our relationship is far from normal and it’s sometimes hard for the both of us but I just want to assure you that the distance wouldn’t keep us apart. I won’t leave you because you’re my home and my safe space, Yoongi.”

It’s a rare sight to see Yoongi get emotional but here he is tearing up at your words and how you instantly eliminate the doubts and guilt he has been carrying with himself. Yoongi chuckled as he covered his eyes with his arm, making you laugh too with tears welling up your eyes at the sight of Yoongi crying as the emotionally sensitive person you are.

Turning to the side, Yoongi set you to lay beside him as you both completely faced each other, fondly staring at you whilst he thread his fingers in your hair that had you closing your eyes. Your left hand in between you two caught his attention, fingers immediately landing on your palm as he wrote down the word you’ve written on his.

Yoongi looked up at you as soon as you enclosed your hand around his, watching how your eyes are still close but a small smile is now adorning your face. He scooted closer until  your foreheads touched, closing his eyes as well but before he could drift off to sleep, he dearly whispered the words to express the same sentiment.

“You’re my home and I'll always come back for you.”

--

A/N: The tissue with scribbled words was based on irl and it just gets me soft everytime, reason why i had to write it down hehe. Anyways, hope you like this one and if you like, you could give me feedback about it hehe.

[jj-ktae]

(M) Squirt Pro Quo

Banner : courtesy of  @jaebeomsmullet​

Pairing : Bambam x Fem!Reader Genre : Smut (Oral, body fluids, penetration, raw language) Words : 2669 Saturday nights are the busiest ones and starting midnight, most party-goers are either drunk or comatose, if not both. Tonight though, as you are taking your last fare, one regular customer enters your taxi with a whole new destination he wishes to penetrate into. 

This scenario is part of The Pleasure Chest ~ A Cringe Fest Collaboration

Squirt Pro Quo

You will never understand people who drink until they collapse.

Alcohol is a good way to make a party wilder but what is the point of wasting all this money if you’re going to forget about what actually happened? It’s part of your job, taking care of drunk customers who get left under your care like it’s your duty to make sure they make it home safely.

You have no other choice though. It is part of the job; no driver can drop a dead weight on the street and leave.

But how many times do you have to do this every weekend? It’s tiring and it fills your car with disgusting odours of liquor you wouldn’t even pay to drink. The application is beeping every five minutes with new requests. It’s the end of the night and people are more and more wasted, turning fares into a chore you wish you could live without.

It’s good money though. Weekends are good money.

This is what you tell yourself when you take the last fare. Money is needed. You might even get tipped. You usually check who you’re taking; you never know what type of person could enter your car. Some are regular users, others are new. You often pick the ones you at least took one time, just to make sure.

Drunk people aren’t only hard to deal with, they apparently gauge their level of attractiveness accordingly to the number of shot they drank.

You stop by one of the familiar nightclub, phone laying on the passenger seat and already signalling your customer that you are waiting. You turn the music off, just in case you end up with someone who thinks you’re holding an after party in your car.

You see a few people stumble and laugh at their clumsiness, others are dancing to no music at all and oh is that a man peeing against that tree?

“I’m late I’m late-, oh it’s you!” The voice makes you stop judging the bystanders to look at your rear-view, where one of your regular customers is looking for the seatbelt.

Bambam.

You should have seen it coming; there was not a week when you didn’t take him back home. He always goes out of the same club, looking like a hot mess and being overly flirty.

He also gives huge tips.

“Am I the last customer?” said boy asks, finger pressing the button to lower the back window. He takes a deep breath and you suspect he is feeling nauseous.

You start the engine, nodding and sighing heavily when a guy almost falls right in front of your car, in the middle of the road. “Tough night?” You try.

Bambam shrugs. “The usual routine night, alcohol, dancing, doing weird things.” his comeback is only funny to him and he notices it, because you see him nod toward the back of your head. “How about you?”

“The usual routine night, alcohol, puking, doing weird things.” You joke back, stopping at a red stop and looking at the rear view again. “I can’t wait to go to sleep.”

“Do you ever party?”

You shrug, barely turning around to look at him. “When I see how you people end up puking and having no dignity, I wonder if I ever will.”

Bambam laughs, dodging your remark with ease. “You’re too pretty to collapse on the streets anyways.”

“Always the smooth talker.”

“Yet you refuse to give me your phone number.”

You pull up at another red stop, feet pressing the brake hard just to shake him a little bit.

Bambam jumps, his pitiful whine quickly replaced by another pick-up line. “I love girls who know how to handle big engines.” he smirks afterward, a brow wiggling up in an obvious attempt to be lascivious.

“You whistle, amused.” This is what you say to the girls in that nightclub, right?”

“None of them hold the gear level the way you do.”

To this you laugh. Bambam always does the same thing; he flirts and flirts until you almost give in before leaving a big tip on the backseat and offering numerous winks.

Tonight, he seems different, though. Almost serious.

“How many car metaphors do you have?”

“Probably less than your horsepower.” He says, taking the seat belt off to lean toward the driver’s seat. “You obviously have a lot going on under that hood.”

You chuckle, taking a turn before stopping again. How many more red lights will you have to deal with?

Bambam feels your irritation, for his hands reach your shoulders to massage your tense muscles. “You’ve never been this cranky, what happened?”

“Nothing, I’m just tired.”

He presses harder, his lean finger feeling like heaven. He does have some skills. “So it is probably a bad time to tell you that I forgot my wallet at the nightclub?”

You turn around abruptly, forcing him to stop massaging you and looking bewildered. “You what?”

“I just noticed, it’s not in my pocket anymore.” He doesn’t even look panicked and merely makes an apologetic face.

“How are you going to pay- great, I will never have that money, right?” You should have known. Turning on the feature I take cash on the application was a very stupid move.

“Well…” Bambam starts, not really getting the part where you would need so little money when you can have him in your car. “I could give you the money next time or…”

You stop, nodding toward him to make him continue.

“Or I could make you relax.”

The light turns green and thankfully there’s no one behind you because you’ve been proposed...sex in exchange of a free ride?

Bambam’s hand finds your shoulder again. “Look at that awful pout. Such a beautiful car body yet such a bad temper…”

You see the way he enjoys the teasing and the way his eyes lit up when you frown at him. He likes it when it’s a losing battle, it seems.

But it might not be that much of a losing battle when the probability of hot sex in your own car crosses your mind.

You lack too much sleep. It has to be the reason why your pussy is clenching.

“Love, the light is green, or you probably would like me to-”

You turn around before he can finish, pressing the accelerator so hard it plasters him again your leather seat.

Bambam laughs, your uneasiness more amusing than disturbing.

He finally looks confused when you don’t turn left like you should be doing. You see him cross his legs, eyes boring into you through the rear view.

“I live the other way” he tries, amused.

“Did you think I would go all the trouble of accepting that fare and leave without getting anything in return?” You answer, irritation mixed with a sudden urge to destroy Bambam’s smug face.

And smug he is, with his lip-smacking and quiet nodding. He lets you take him where you want, still slightly surprised that you finally accepted his overtures.

You stop near a tiny park. The road is empty if not for a couple of taxi, already going around town to pick the last partygoers.

No one is walking by this side of the park so early, either.

You turn around when the engine stops, observing a curious Bambam who is checking outside to test the waters.

“Now how about I lubricate the camshaft?” You lift a brow and earn an impressed look from Bambam, who wastes no time reaching for your seat bell to free your body. His clothes create funny sounds against the leather but he is already too caught-up in the act.

Instead he pulls you at the back of the car with much difficulty.

“Babe, I don’t need no GPS do get into your pants.”

And it is true. Bambam pops your jacket’s buttons with one snap of his fingers and pulls on your sleeves to let it fall. His long coat is easily forgotten when you straddle him and sneak your hands under the thick fabric to let it slide off his shoulders.

He grabs your hips, leaning properly against the leather seat and creating more questionable sounds. They all fall to deaf ears though, especially when he raises his pelvis to make you feel how aroused he is.

“Which gear do you think I’m at?” He teases, head dipping to lick the curve of your neck. His thick lips feel like fire and even cause tiny desperate thrusts against his now hard dick.

“I’m not sure...but you might need to slow down before your engine goes overheating.”

He laughs, warm breath tickling your moist and sensitive skin.

Your clothes fall rapidly, piling on the carpeting and each layer reveals an even better view, Bambam thinks. He lets you return the favour, manoeuvring his hips when you start pulling on his expensive Gucci belt to reach for his ripped jeans’ zipper.

Fog paints the back windows –and you wonder when did he even pull if back up- , hiding your shadows and allowing Bambam to open your bra without you being too conscious about anyone seeing you.

You lean back when your breasts meet the chill air, your hands leaving the bulge in his boxers. Bambam stares for the longest time, his eyes obviously drawn to your nipples, now perky and oh-so-inviting.

You roll your hips against him when he grabs one of your breast and wraps his mouth around a nipple. A satisfied sigh leaves your parted lips and your back arches, automatically sticking more of you against him. The boy welcomes you gladly, bringing you even closer while subtly grazing his lips over your skin.

You jump, giving him a particularly hard thrust in the process and he can only groan, before sucking hard in retaliation.

He is not going to get a free fare and tease you.

Bambam releases your nipple with a popping sound when you part from him. He stays seated, looking at you questioningly as you get up from his lap.

“Let’s check that dipstick before it goes into the oil hole.” You wink seductively, your inhibition out the window as you pull on his boxer’s elastic to free his painful hard-on.

Bambam hisses, your cool fingers short-circuiting his already poorly functioning brain. Two pumps are enough to turn him into a mess of thrusts and grunts, your grip a little bit too tight if he wants to last long enough to keep his promise.

But you don’t seem to care for you lean - and hit your knee against the seat - to gobble his dick in one go.

Bambam jerks away, head shaking violently. “Easy,” he breathes, eyes glued to your parted lips, now against that one very swollen vein.

The feeling is too exciting. The situation is nothing but thrilling; anyone could walk by and see you, kneeling in the back of your car and feasting on a man’s cock. It feels wrong, like you shouldn’t mix work and pleasure but at the same time, you’re merely paying yourself for that free ride.

Bambam is breathing heavily, the tip of his cock turning redder with each stroke of your tongue, now flat against him. He lets you have your fun, satisfied with his self-control. He would love to fill your mouth right there and then. You’d look so beautiful, with a string of semen dripping from your chin.

You look up when you feel his finger threading into your hair. It’s too delicate to be one of a horny man but it isn’t unpleasant; you definitely don’t know him enough to allow any sort of choking with his thick dick.

Surprisingly, the thought doesn’t bother you.

“Touch me,” he adds, “pull on me like you pull on that handbrake.” he demands, now at your mercy. Your hand automatically goes to his navel and travels down until it reaches the base of his cock.

“Like this?” You ask candidly, hand devastating as you pull on his dick way too hard.

It almost hurts, but Bambam enjoys every second of it. “Just like this…”

You keep going, alternating between hard sucking and dick pulling and Bambam grabs your chin when he finds himself reaching his peak

“Turn around.” He adjusts himself on the seat and grabs your hips. Your head hits the ceiling in the process and Bambam has to spread his legs even wider if he wants you to keep a good position.

You end up looking ahead, eyes going wide when you notice how clean the windshield is; anyone could see you, bent into your car and ready to impale yourself on a guy.

“Come on, sit on me babe…” You hear Bambam’s needy whispers and you comply, aligning yourself perfectly and feeling him enter you with a switch motion. “...ride me.”

You moan, the position tiring but also offering one of the best angle you’ve ever experienced. You do exactly as he says, your butt bouncing rapidly on his lap and allowing him to nestle his dick into you to the hilt.

And nothing more happens, nothing more but the sound of wet skin and pleasured moans. You end up grabbing the head-rests for balance when your legs start to quiver and Bambam decides to end your misery.

He feels the signs of release, so powerful they are tickling his legs and hips. Everything gets too hot, too satisfying to resist the urge to fill you up.

And that’s what he does, when he can’t take it no more.

You feel it, the warm semen and the jolting legs informing you of what is happening.

Bambam gives one final thrust, his head falling back and body sweating.

It was mind-blowing.

You’re about to protest. How dare he finish before he even-

“We’re not done.”

You find yourself being pulled back on the seat, his cum dripping on your thighs and you’re sure the leather is going to be ruined but you’re also curious.

“Let me take you somewhere nice.”

He has difficulties moving and you totally blame it on how long his legs are but he doesn’t complain, even if he looks ridiculous with his pants down and shiny dick.

He spreads your legs and somehow finds himself between them. His finger graze the wet skin and you cannot help but blush at how satisfied he seems to be when he looks at his own cum staining your beautiful skin.

“So fucking pretty…” he muses, fingers reaching for your engorged pussy to thrust two fingers into you.

You close your eyes, legs shivering when he picks up the pace and starts ramming into you. You hear him grunt, like he is enjoying this as much as you.

And he is. “You know what works best with overheating engines?” He looks up at you and tries to get up. His voice is a tad deeper and sensual, like he is going to completely end you. He grips the seat and ends up towering you, his hand now allowing him to press his thumb against your clit while finger-fucking you.

You shake your head, eyes glued to his predatory smile and shiny eyes.

He accelerates his hand, stimulating you more and more with his stroke. “Coolant.” His hand goes crazy, so fast it’s almost unbearable.

You scream, hips shaking from the hectic thrusts and you don’t expect to cum this hard.

So hard you are now squirting all over Bambam.

He looks down, admiring his masterpiece and stimulates you even more to keep you going until there’s nothing but a trickle of cum, ridiculous and dripping down the seat.

You keep your eyes closed, the realisation of what happened hitting you like a truck - or so to speak.

Bambam sits back, his hands grabbing your exhausted legs to let them rest on his half-clothed lap. “How about I never get my wallet back?” he tries, his cheeky smile tearing a tired snort out of you.

“You’ll have to because my car is a mess now.”

[lovelivingmydreams]

@Meowthefluffy Zombie au au chapter 2

A happy belated birthday to you @meowthefluffy hope you enjoy it.

They had found themselves a safe space in the library. There was an underground parking to hide the car, the windows were high up so while it was well lit no one on the outside would spot movement and they could collect some books to help them survive. Knowledge and skill was crucial. Languages, knots, engineering… Anything that could help them out later. Virgil knew sign language, Janus knew French and Roman knew Spanish. They decided that to be safe they should each learn one additional language. Janus picked mandarin, Virgil Russian and Roman took Arabic. Roman had been very timid ever since they lost the horde. And Virgil hadn’t been exactly eager to talk to him. “V- Virgil? Can we talk?” Roman whispered. Virgil didn’t answer, nor did he look up from under the hood. He was checking over their car to see how long it would last them and what parts would need replacing soon. He wondered if they could make it to the shop to gather supplies for maintenance. “Listen… I understand that you are angry with me…” “Do you?” Virgil snapped as he finally got up, oil smeared over his cheeks, cleaning off his hands with a cloth he shoves in his pocket. He crosses his arms over his chest staring down at Roman. He’s definitely mad. “Because I don’t think you do. We’ve talked about how I feel about consent. But you go ahead and kiss me without so much as a warning! And then you plan to just go off so I can feel guilty and like a crappy person for the rest of my life? Are you that selfish?” Virgil seethed. Roman cringed. He did know. They’d talked about it plenty of times while watching movies. Virgil was not a fan of the ‘confess your love by kissing them without warning’ trope. “I was a coward, I know. It shouldn’t have taken the end of civilization and certain death for me to confess to you. But… I knew you’d be disgusted by me and I just…” “There’s another thing. We’ve been friends since before I can remember. You really think that little off me that I’d feel different about you just because of that?” Virgil growled. Roman looked up surprised. “But… You always laugh when people make those jokes… And…” “And that was wrong of me. I can own up to that. But you never said anything to imply you found them anything other than funny yourself. Has it occurred to you that I might do that for the same reason?” That… Roman hadn’t thought of that. “And didn’t I always come to your defense when people thought you were to girly? What did I say about that?” Virgil pointed out. “That… That I’m a different kind of manly. Like a prince…” Roman recalled. “Hence me calling you princey since kindergarten!” Virgil huffed. Roman’s head was spinning. Trying to make sense of everything he was hearing. “But you’re… You mean you’re…” Virgil was straight right? He did everything right. He rode a motorcycle, wore leather, worked on cars, liked aggressive music and guns… Sure he also wore make up but in a cool way.

Virgil shrugged. “I’ve been questioning myself for a while, I’m not sure. I don’t know how I feel about a lot of stuff right now. At this point I wanna see if either of our families are still around and make it so that we all live.” He stared Roman down again. “All of us. You are not allowed to die on me Roman. Understood? I’m pissed as hell. But that doesn’t change that I’ll keep you safe. Got it?” Roman’s heart went a thousand miles a minute. Virgil was right. With the end of the world hanging over their heads, this wasn’t the time to sort out this mess he’d gotten them in. But one thing was sure. Virgil didn’t hate him because of how he felt. He was mad about what he did and almost did though. And that was fair. If the roles were reversed he probably wouldn’t have been very happy about it either. But things could still be fixed. Maybe. “Yes… I’ll… See if I can put something together for us to eat,” he muttered softly. “There’s some supplies in the trunk. Use the perishables first,” Virgil instructed. Roman nodded. “Right… Good idea,” he said softly as he moved to the trunk and gathered some things to cook a decent meal for three. “I’m really sorry for hurting you Virgil… I just wanted to protect you for once,” he told him before disappearing back inside. Days turned into weeks and Roman had a hard time. Virgil’s anger at him subsided. Roman even woke up a few times finding that Virgil had moved closer to him either in his sleep or due to waking up from a nightmare. And when they were awake he slowly started to relax around him again. Roman wasn’t sure if he was waiting for him to make another move on him or to pull another heroic stunt, but he was slowly trusting that he wouldn’t. Janus was… He was clever. A master strategist, if Roman was completely honest. And he was handsome.  And charming.  And flirty. Towards both of them. But mostly Virgil. And that made Roman nervous. Because what if it wasn’t him but Janus who’d made Virgil question whether he was entirely, strictly into girls? Roman is too insecure to ask. They didn’t find their families. They decided to assume that they got out and were somewhere safe until proven otherwise. If only for their own piece of mind. Virgil recovered his tools from the shop, as well as some extra weapons and ammunition. They managed to raid a few homes and even an apothecary for first aid kits and medicines. Roman held a meticulous catalogue of all their perishable supplies. When Janus hinted at Virgil that he could give him CPR anytime, Virgil calmly deflected him and said that Roman would be the one playing nurse if any of them wanted to survive. “Though you might need to teach me some of the basics soon. I don’t want you to die cause I don’t know how to save you,” he’d added softly. Roman had blushed and nodded. Feeling hopeful that he was getting close to being forgiven. Then one night he woke up and found Virgil sitting at the window of the abandoned classroom they were hiding in for the night. Janus was sleeping. They must’ve switched watch recently. “V?” Roman whispered. They had to talk again. He needed to know where they stood. “You should be asleep Ro. You have three more hours until your shift,” Virgil said softly. Virgil always took the middle watch. Never allowing himself 8 consecutive hours. Roman and Janus both had tried to convince him to switch it up. But Virgil was adamant. Janus took first, Virgil second and Roman third. Virgil claimed that that way they’d all have breakfast waiting when they woke up. But Roman suspected Virgil didn’t want to disrupt his sleeping schedule if he didn’t want to. Ever since they were little, Roman had more trouble staying up late than getting up early. He’d loved getting up early actually. Sunrise was his favorite. Virgil and him had slept under the stars a few times. The only times Roman had managed to stay awake and alert for most of the night. It was almost sunrise when they finally went to bed. “I can’t… We need to talk,” Roman insisted. Virgil looked back. “I guess we do,” he sighed reluctantly. Roman went to sit with Virgil and looked out over the playground. “Are you still angry?” he asked. “… I’m still scared Roman,” Virgil answered finally. “I haven’t been angry with you for weeks. But I’m scared you will do something stupid and I won’t be able to protect you. I was… I froze last time. What if I freeze again and lose you without even trying to stop you?” Roman was shocked to find that Virgil’s eyes were filling with tears. “How do I live with myself if I lose the most important person in my life like that?” he asked. It was hard, trying not to be happy that Virgil said that. But the love of his life was in pain and Roman would be damned if he didn’t take that pain away. “Virgil, I did what I did because I knew you’d freeze up. You always do when you get dropped in unexpected situations. I knew that… That would shake you up enough to let me go. I used my feelings for you and what I knew about you to do what I thought was right. I regret doing that… I’m sorry Virgil. I…” Before Roman could continue he was pulled into a tight hug. “Promise me we’ll stick together from now on. Ok? No matter what you think is best for me. We’re a team alright?” Roman let himself melt into the embrace and nodded into Virgil’s chest. “Ok,” he said softly. The next month things seemed to go back to what would be normal for them under the circumstances if they’d never had a fight. They joked and teased and Virgil was comfortable with showing physical affection again. Roman was even warming up to Janus, who told him that while he enjoyed flirting and everything, he wasn’t very interested in dating of any kind. “Virgil and I have this game we’re playing, but I don’t care much about winning. He’s all yours your highness.” Being friends was much easier after that. There were scary moments. Stray zombies in what they thought was a clear building. Sometimes they found people who’d been infected and locked themselves away to give their family time to escape. But those situations were easily dealt with. The hordes were harder. Luckily they were rare. Only loud noises and bright lights attracted them and they tried their best to avoid both. But sometimes an engine would backfire or an animal would get spooked and make a ruckus escaping.

They didn’t encounter other survivors often. Usually at a distance and it seemed an unspoken agreement to not approach each other. It was the best way to avoid misunderstanding. It was Virgil’s birthday. Roman had done his best to keep track of time and been counting the days to do something nice for him. So he gathered the right ingredients and made the closest approximation to Virgil’s favorite pasta he could. They found themselves in a restaurant, as if the universe agreed to cut them a break and so Roman found the right spices and some unopened tubes of tomato concentrate. They obviously didn’t have ground beef but Janus had gotten good at providing them with fresh meat. Virgil nearly strangled the both of them when he realized what that smell was. The dinner was interrupted by a knocking at the door. It was soft, and rhythmic. Nothing like the way a zombie would sound. Virgil, naturally, took point and stalked towards the door. They all got ready to react if their visitor was hostile. “Good evening… Say, I haven’t smelled anything that good in ages. Mind if I join?”

[idyllicstarker]

“Come on, let’s go on a drive” • Starker

Warnings: One use of foul language, one comment with implict sexual connotations, otherwise none, just a healthy douse of fluff

“Come on, let’s go on a drive.”

Peter blinked surprised, head lifting from the soft pillow underneath his cheek, to look over his boyfriend. Tony was kneeling on the edge of the bed with a soft smile, his eyes still looked clouded with sleep, as he beckoned Peter to get up. The man was still in the boxers he’d slept in, but he looked as serious as ever.

Peter shifted under the sheets, hand reaching out to tap his phone screen, squinting at the sudden light as he tried to make out what the time read.

“It's 2am Tony”, he said quietly, rolling over again to face him.

“Okay.. so let’s go on a drive.”

Peter let out a tired laugh, shaking his head. “Come back to bed love, you were asleep five minutes ago.”

“Yes but you weren’t”, Tony stressed, his voice no louder than a whisper. Crawling forward he placed a kiss to Peter’s head. “I know you’re worrying over your final grades. So, I thought we could go on a little drive, I know that calms you down, especially when it’s raining”, he hummed softly.

Peter felt very warm - very loved; Tony spoke so gently to him. In all fairness, he was stressed, he’d been worrying all night, and Tony was right, he hadn’t been able to sleep. As the man let out snores, Peter had tossed and turned, and when he’d woken Tony up with all the movement, he’d profusely apologised.

What he hadn’t expected was for Tony to get out of bed. As silence fell over the room, Peter confirmed that it was indeed raining, he could hear the quiet pitter-patter against the window. It was soothing, calming even, and maybe that would lull him to sleep instead. Maybe.

As tempted as he was, he knew Tony was tired. Back to back meetings had wore him out, to make him drive him around so late at night just seemed selfish.

But Tony saw the hesitance in Peter’s eyes, and decided he wasn’t going to give an option. He tore the sheets off the boy, laughing at the way he squirmed.

“It’s cold Tony”, Peter whined, but the smile on his lips showed he wasn’t all that mad.

“Well then put a hoodie on and hurry up”, Tony prompted, gently pulling on Peter’s hands to help him sit up, before climbing off the bed to get into some of his own clothes.

***

The soft purr of the engine rang out into the quiet night. Peter winced, glad they didn’t live around anyone and turned his gaze out the window.

“We don’t have to do this Tones, I promise, I’m fine”, he muttered softly, the guilt obviously setting in.

He’d pulled on one of Tony’s old sweatshirts, the sleeves bunched up in his fists, and the hood pulled atop his head so that only a few chestnut curls could be seen peeking out. The man glanced over at him, and couldn’t help the affectionate smile that rose onto his face at how adorable he looked.

His face was slightly flush from exhaustion, but Tony could see how his brain was still whirring, so the drive was needed, even if Peter denied it.

He decided not to reply, simply pulling out of the garage and out onto the road. Peter let out a small huff at being ignored, crossing his arms over his chest. Tony laughed softly at the sight.

“Peter baby”, he muttered softly “relax.”

“How am I supposed to relax knowing you have four meetings tomorrow, and yet we’re out here at 2am because you’re too stubborn for your own good.”

For a moment the car was silent. Tony’s steady gaze focusing on the road in front of them. He’d put his glasses on before they’d left the house but they were slightly crooked in his haste to get out. He knew better than to drive without them though, especially if he had Peter in the car with him.

“I just wanted to help…”, the man finally whispered. He’d deflated in his seat, no longer as excited as he had been, and all at once a wave of guilt washed over Peter. “I just… I’m sorry, we can go back”, he continued quietly.

A fool. That’s what Peter was. Tony was doing this for him, he was always so good to him, and he still couldn’t appreciate it.

“I don’t want to go back”, Peter mumbled quietly, raising his hand to gently fix Tony’s glasses on his nose, and leaning over the console to press a kiss to his cheek. It was still cold from the shock of leaving the warmth of their bedroom, and so he moved to turn on the heater.

“Do you think you can reschedule the meetings tomorrow?”, he asked gently after a moment.

“If it makes you feel better.”

“It would.”

“Then I will.”

Peter nodded his head, letting out a small breath of relief. “We can sleep in. And I’ll make you breakfast in the morning”, he offered, almost as an ultimatum.

Tony huffed out a laugh, taking his right hand away from the wheel so he could rest in on Peter’s thigh. A smaller, warmer hand, found its way on top of it a second later, lacing their fingers together. “How could I ever say no to breakfast”, he hummed.

Peter laughed gently, resting his head back against the rest, titling his head so he could watch the raindrops fall slowly down the glass of the window.

His thumb gently ran over Tony’s knuckles, brushing over the grooves and scars left behind from a life of hard work.

“You can put on some music if you want”, Tony spoke after a good few minutes of silence, the sound of the rain hitting the top of the car, and the soft hum of the engine.

“I didn’t bring my phone.”

“Have you forgotten what a radio is?”, Tony asked teasingly. Peter giggled, closing his eyes as he yawned, and shook his head.

“Alright old man, we’ll do it your way”, he muttered, slowly opening his eyes to gaze over the man with a sleepy look of affection, before he leaned forwards to turn the radio on.

Within seconds, loud rock music was blasting through the speakers, Peter jumping twice his height as he scrambled to turn it down.

“Jesus Christ Tony”, he hissed, once it was at a more acceptable level. The man himself was laughing hysterically, the sides of his eyes crinkled in the way that Peter adored so much. Tony had such a cute smile, he didn’t know how anyone could ever disagree with that.

He rolled his eyes, moving his left hand to grip at the steering wheel, to make sure Tony didn’t swerve. He trusted him enough not to, knowing he wouldn’t put his life in danger like that. But he also knew that if they did get into an accident, Tony would do everything in his power to make sure Peter was as safe as he could be. Even if it meant directing the car in such a way that the hit was directed to Tony. Therefore, Peter acted as the balance, he wouldn’t allow that to happen. The road was largely deserted, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

“You done?”, he asked, unamused as Tony began to calm down. The older male snickered, glancing over at the boy and smiling softly.

“You love me really”, he said simply, watching as Peter took his hand back off the wheel, to rest over Tony’s on his lap once again,

The boy made a show of pretending to think about it, letting out a hum as he gave the man’s fingers a squeeze. “I guess you’re right”, he ended up shrugging.

Tony scoffed at that, looking out at the approaching lights of the city.

“What?”, Peter asked with a soft giggle, “maybe if you didn’t leave your music blasting all the time, so that when I go to turn it on, I won’t have a heart attack… I’d love you more.”

“The car’s sound proof, no one can hear it…”

“I can!”, he interjected, pouting slightly.

They pulled up to a red light and Tony huffed. “Smile sweetheart, if you frown and pout all the time you’ll end up looking ugly like me”, he said softly, leaning across the console to press a kiss to the sweet lips that were basically inviting him to do it, so Peter couldn’t complain.

“Eyes on the road mister”, Peter muttered when he’d pulled away, but he of course, would never complain about a few extra kisses. “And you’re not ugly, so stop saying that. You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen”, he hummed.

“You have to say that, I’m your boyfriend”, Tony corrected.

“Oh please, the only reason I’m your boyfriend is because you’re sexy”, he teased, causing Tony to gasp as if he was offended, pulling off again as the light turned green.

“Then what happens when my looks start to slide?”, he questioned.

Peter raised an eyebrow, pretending to be very confused as he turned his face away. “I thought they already had”, he mumbled - of course it was all playful, a deliberate attempt to rile him up.

Tony knew that all too well, and began to laugh. “Hey now Peter, I don’t care if I’m seventy, and my chest is sagging, and my stomach’s round, and I have no hair, you're gonna love me anyway”, he said, nudging him gently.

Peter snorted, moving to rest his head on Tony’s shoulder, after having pressed a gentle kiss to his jaw. “I will, I’ll always love you. I don’t love you for your look:, even if the small gray hairs poking out of your head do sinful things to my thoughts. I love for who you are. So yes, even when you’re seventy, I’ll be right here beside you”, he whispered gently, nuzzling his cheek against his shoulder gently.

The rain had begun to pick up a bit more now. The raindrops sounded heavier against the roof. The buttery glow of the streetlights on their faces became more frequent as they turned into the more populated streets.

This was a conversation they’d had many times. Tony was usually the one to express his doubts. He may be egotistical most days of his life, but Peter had quickly figured out that he was a slight bit insecure about their age difference. He was always quick to reassure him, despite the jokes he made. Peter wasn’t going anywhere. And besides, he was pretty sure Tony Stark couldn’t age badly, it just seemed impossible.

“I know Peter. I do. And I thank you for that”, he said softly, tilting his head to press a kiss to his temple. He felt the way his cheek squished further into the material of his shirt as Peter smiled.

“Don’t thank me for loving you. It’s pretty hard not to.”

“I beg to differ.”

A roll of his eyes, and Peter was poking at his side gently. “Shush, I don’t have the energy to tell you all the reasons why I love you right now”, he huffed out.

Again Tony laughed, turning around a corner so that they could go back the way they came. They weren’t planning to go anywhere in particular, but he knew Peter preferred driving in the more secluded areas. They were more dangerous of course, but they made a great team against anyone who would try to cross them. “Fine, fine, I’ll leave the self loathing to another day.”

“Tonyyy”, Peter whined.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I love you too sweetheart”, he muttered instead.

Peter nodded his head, happy with that answer as he leaned forwards to change the station, ignoring Tony’s grunt. “You said I could play music, we’re playing what I want”, he said adamantly.

When he found a station to settle on, he gasped quietly hearing the song. He was up in an instant, Tony having to blink and register the fact that all the energy had seemed to come back to him. “I love this song”, he giggled, moving to turn it up just slightly.

The slight scrunch of Tony's nose showed it wasn’t quite to his taste, but with the way Peter was grinning, and making up an elaborate dance routine in his seat, he didn’t have the heart to complain. He was wiggling his hips to the beat, singing along quietly, and Tony couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He really did love him so much.

He turned it up just slightly, quite enjoying the personal concert he was receiving.

As the next song came on, Peter apparently coined onto the fact that he knew it. And was begging the man to sing with him. They bickered for a moment, but of course, Tony lost at the sight of the wide puppy eyes, and suddenly they were dancing and singing together.

By the time Peter had calmed down, Tony’s voice was hoarse, but it was worth it because the other seemed less tense. He was yawning slightly, Tony turning the music down as the younger male cuddled up under his hoodie, and curled into his seat. Tired eyes watched as they passed familiar buildings, but they were slowly starting to blur.

“Do you think I’m going to pass everything tomorrow?”, he asked quietly after a moment. He seemed timid and shy, turning his body to look over Tony, as he yawned once again.

“I know you’re going to pass tomorrow Petey. With flying colours, top of your class”, he corrected.

The boy sighed out, pretending to seem uninterested with that reply, but Tony noticed the blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Be serious”, he huffed, and Tony laughed quietly.

“I am sweetheart. I know you better than anyone. You can say I have high expectations but I know your abilities and what you can do. Even if you don’t see it. And I know you���ve tried your hardest no matter what. And that’s all you can do. Your best. I’ve seen your sleepless nights studying, the way you’ve overworked yourself… you’re going to be absolutely fine. I know you are.”

“But what if my best isn't enough.” The look on Peter’s face almost broke his heart. Tony knew, the effort he’d put into his grades, and to fall now, Tony knw would wound the boy much worse than any enemy of the boy could.

“It will be”, he soothed, gently moving to take Peter’s hand in his, and being the smooth knuckles up his lips, pressing a comforting kiss over them. “Everyone, including me, will be proud of you, no matter what you get. If you get into M.I.T great. It’s your dream, and you deserve to live it. If you don’t, then fuck them. You’ve tried so hard everyday, and we all know your so much better than any grade that you get on a piece of paper”, he said.

As the streetlight washed over Peter’s face, he could see the blush had only grown stronger. Spreading over his nose and to his ears. But what got Tony most of all, was the tears that were in his love’s eyes.

“Baby…”, he muttered quietly, his entire expression softening at the sight. He ended up pulling over, onto the side of the road, shutting off the engine so he could give him his undivided attention.

“You really think so?”, Peter ignored his concern, instead focusing on his words. He sounded so trusting of Tony as always, but there was clearly something holding him back from believing in his own worth. It was something that Tony had become well accustomed to by this point. Something he’d tried to make sure wouldn’t grow too heavy on the boy's shoulders. It took a lot of encouragement, praise and overall a healthy support system, something Tony was more than happy to provide.

“I know so, sweetheart”, he confirmed. “Your intelligence is unmatched-”

“Apart from yours of course”, Peter giggled wetly.

Tony shook his head, usually appreciating the ego boost, but not right now. “Peter, honey, sweetheart, baby, love bunny.. you’re so much smarter than I will ever be. And at 18 years old too. You’re amazing. I’m jealous of that little brain of yours. And if M.I.T can’t see that, regardless of your grades, then they’re idiots.” (Peter hadn’t let him interfere with the process, he wanted to do this on his own - the only thing he did was send a glowing recommendation that was of course only filled with praise)

Peter was sobbing by the end of his little speech, and Tony took off his belt, moving to take him into his arms. He held the boy as he trembled, rubbing his back, and letting him cry off all the stress he’d been holding in.

When he was done, and he pulled back, his eyes were puffy, but as always, they held so much love for the man beside him in the car. “Thank you Tones…”, he mumbled quietly. What else was he supposed to say. There were no words he could give to truly display the way he felt.

But Tony didn’t want anything else. He just wanted Peter happy. That was the most important thing. “I love you”, he said softly in the end, moving his thumbs to stroke softly over his cheeks, and wipe away the rest of his tears.

“I love you too”, Peter muttered gently, laughing as he caught sight of himself in the reflection on the window.

“I’m a mess”, he added after, shaking his head, as he caught Tony’s lips against his own.

When he pulled away, Tony winked at him. “My beautiful mess”, he offered instead.

Peter rolled his eyes, but loved the phrase nevertheless. “I guess we can say that”, he hummed playfully, looking over Tony with all the love and affection the small body could possibly give.

Tony could see past that however, noticing how tired he was now. The good thing was, he did seem to be a lot better. And he supposed his words had taken some good effect. At least he could do that right. A quick glance at the clock told him it was nearing 3:30am now, so home was a given, even if he was quite enjoying their time in the car. He wanted Peter at least a little rested, he didn’t want him collapsing from exhaustion. He started up the car again, mumbling about how they should get him home, as he pulled off onto the street.

Peter didn’t try to stop him, or interject. His body was heavy as he leaned back in his seat, rolling his neck as his gaze tried to focus on the lights of the city. They all fused together eventually, his eyes slowly closing despite how hard he was trying to fight it. Tony’s hand still lay comforting on his thigh, and the soft purr of the car was quite a nice background to his fading thoughts.

As the city lights began to diminish, and the car rolled forwards towards home, sleep won the battle over Peter’s body. He knew that whatever happened tomorrow, he’d made Tony proud, and really, that’s all he’d ever wanted to do.

***

Tag list: @itsmexavie @icandoakickflip @peterparker-starks

[settersprouts]

꠵ look at me : chapter three ꠵

俗語。

"Mmm." Oikawa's chocolate colored eyes fluttered open, taking in the sunlight leaking in from behind the blinds. The first thing he noticed as he woke up was the fact that-

This isn't my room. The third-year setter sat up abruptly, looking around frantically. Was I kidnapped? Where am I? Where's Iwa-chan? Last thing I remember was- just then, his eyes laid to rest on a sleeping Iwaizumi, who had come to rest right next to him. He had his brawny arms around Oikawa's waist, his leg flung over like he was holding a big stuffed animal. A blush rose in Oikawa's cheeks, as he diverted his attention to anything but him. C'mon. Look somewhere else. Don't look at his cute- I mean- stupid face. He's going to kill you when he wakes up.

Oikawa tried slipping out of Iwaizumi's grasp, but failed miserably. Each time he got close to freeing himself, the other would groan and pull him closer. After a couple minutes of losing this miniature battle with Iwaizumi, he gave up and reached for his phone on the nightstand. The device turned on in his hand automatically since it sensed the motion, and a bunch of messages popped up on his lockscreen.

4 messages from ✨ Makki ✨

2 messages from ✬ Mattsun ✬

7 messages from ♡ Rooster-head ♡

Oikawa sighed, rubbing his temples. Just looking at the messages gives me a headache. He clicked on Kuroo's messages, not wanting to leave him waiting for the setter's reply any longer.

. .

[from] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: oi, oikawa [from] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: how's it going [from] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: hey [from] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: you [from] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: heyyyyy [from] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: you there? [from] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: i heard what happened, how you holdin' up?

[to] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: hey, kuroo. i'm fine, thanks for worrying though!

[from] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: and that is how i know you're not fine- [from] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: you're using punctuation.

[to] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: u H- why can't i use proper punctuation?

[from] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: you can it's just, you don't.

[to] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: you sir, are incredibly smart.

[from] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: pff, i know right? so, wanna talk about it?

[to] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: maybe. we can meet up soon?

[from] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: sure. you're still coming to watch, right?

[to] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: maybe, i dunno though. i hope karasuno n shiratorizawa both fail, though

[from] ♡ʀ���ᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: LMAO you're messed up

[to] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: could say the same about you

[from] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: ah, got me there. i'll text you a restaurant location after my matches.[from] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: udon or ramen

[to] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: udon

[from] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: alright. i'll find someplace [from] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: imma get ready, ttyl

[to] ♡ʀᴏᴏꜱᴛᴇʀ-ʜᴇᴀᴅ♡: bye.

. .

Oikawa sighed once again, scrolling through the other messages he had from Matsukawa and Hanamaki. They didn't really differ from each other : it was just them asking where to meet up later for the qualifiers. He quickly texted them both an answer, saying Iwa would pick them up.

"Mmm." Iwaizumi groaned, making Oikawa's eyes flick over to his friend's face. "Oh. Morning, Kawa."

"Morning." Oikawa hummed in response, setting his phone aside to give Iwaizumi a quick hug. "Get ready, you're going to pick up Makki and Mattsun to watch the rest of the matches." Iwaizumi lifted his arm so Oikawa could leave his warm embrace, and blushed a bit when the setter started taking off his clothes.

"T-trashykawa, the hell are you doing?"

He turned around. "Changing. Is it okay if I use some of your clothes again? I'll wash them as soon as we get back, I promise. I just need something to wear when I walk home."

Iwaizumi nodded quickly. "Sure, whatever, just- hurry up and change already." A couple minutes passed of Oikawa looking through his closet when the gears in Iwaizumi's head started shifting. "Wait, walk home?"

Oikawa turned around, pulling on one of Iwaizumi's large Godzilla sweatshirts. "Mhm. My parents are already worried enough as is, I need to get home before they get even more pissed at me." He pulled off his shorts to reveal regular black boxer briefs, which caught Iwaizumi by surprise. He would've expected him to have alien-themed underwear. "I know it's not the smartest idea to be going home right now, that's why I'm just going to get some clothes and head out. I already called my brother, he said I can stay with him for a little while."

Iwaizumi's mouth formed an 'o' shape. "When are you moving in with him?"

"He'll be back in town next week. So, around then." Oikawa clucked his tongue, something suddenly coming to mind. "Oh, I forgot to tell you, I'm going to an udon restaurant with Kuroo after his matches are over. Do you want to come with?"

"Sure." Iwaizumi stood up, changing into some clothes as well. As he was shrugging his jeans-jacket over his hoodie, he looked at Oikawa with an unreadable expression on his face. "You going to be okay? I can come with you when you're at your parent's house."

Oikawa waved his hands in dismissal. "No, no, that's okay. I think that'll just set them off again." He put his hands up over his head, stretching and cracking a couple of joints in the process. At every pop Iwaizumi flinched : ever since Oikawa's knee injury, he's been worried about every little unnatural noise that emitted from his bones and the rest of his body. Iwaizumi didn't want another repeat.

"Why would it set them off? They like me, right?"

"Of course they do. They'll probably assume I told you everything and that you're only there to call the cops on them and stuff." Oikawa shrugged. "Something like that. Don't mind, Iwa-chan."

Iwaizumi pouted a little bit, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine. Call me if your folks try anything."

Oikawa smiled brightly at him, and it almost seemed like he was glowing. Like he was the sun itself. "Of course, Iwa."

⊱ ─ ‧̥̥͙⋅. ♔ .⋅‧̥̥͙ ─ ⊰

Water lopped at Oikawa's shoes as he started the tedious trek towards home. The faint pshhhhhh reached his ears, the rain splashing in puddles and lifting Oikawa's spirits. Normally, he hates rain since it usually meant practice would end way earlier then it was supposed to, but he liked walking in the rain, he liked the sound and the smell of the fresh dew. 'I should take Iwa-chan to the park next time it rains,' Oikawa thought. 'He'd like it, right?'

Once he reached his fairly-nice home, he shoved the key into the keyhole, jiggling the knob a little so it would unlock. The lock was a little stiff, so it needed a little push now and then. Once the door had swung open, he called out, trying to see if anyone was home. No answer. Good, I don't have to talk to the old man tonight. He skipped to his room, pulling a backpack out from his closet, as well as his gym bag, and starting packing. Clothes, some stuffies Iwa-chan had got him when they were younger, and the award he received back when he was at Kitagawa Daiichi were all set on the bed before he had to set them in the bag. He pulled one of the pillow sheets off of the pillow on his bed, wrapping the fabric around the award carefully. He didn't want it to get scratched or damaged in any other way when it was in his bag.

He pulled off the sweatshirt and shorts he borrowed from Iwa, dressing up in a white button-up shirt, and a creme-colored vest. He shrugged into a navy-blue suit top, pulling on a pair of brown khakis afterward.

Oikawa put on a pair of glasses, looking into the mirror and styling his hair a little bit. Not bad. Pulling out his phone, he sent a quick text to Iwaizumi, telling him he was ready to be picked up. The latter replied with a "👍," and Oikawa turned off his phone. He looked around his room a little more, packing up anything he might want to take with him. A photo album, his and Iwa's old shared journal, some picture frames containing priceless memories, and many other little trinkets he was given over the years.

A couple of minutes after he had set everything he wanted to take with him in his bag, he heard a loud honk in his driveway. That must be Iwa-chan!, Oikawa thought, grabbing his backpack and his gym bag, racing to the front door. Sure enough, Iwaizumi's car was parked out front, the man himself leaning on the hood. He perked up once he heard Oikawa's front door click shut, smiling a little bit at the sight before clearing his throat and glaring at the setter.

"About time." He muttered, causing Oikawa to roll his eyes a little.

"I didn't take that long." The latter retorted, opening the trunk and setting his belongings in carefully. "You waited for like, two minutes."

Iwaizumi scoffed. "So? I still have to pick up Matsukawa and Hanamaki."

"Mm."

The two third-years hopped in the car, putting on their seatbelts. Iwaizumi turned the key fob, making the engine start to sputter before it leveled out, and backed out of the driveway. Oikawa looked at the dash, noticing a phone propped up with the Maps app open and directing him. "You don't know where Makki and Mattsun live?"

"No, of course not. I've never been to either of their houses before." He replied, glancing at Oikawa. "Also, you look nice."

Oikawa turned to face him, his cheeks matching Iwa's. Both boys' faces were flushed, and they both seemed to turn their heads away from each other in unison when they noticed this. "Thanks." Oikawa mumbled a reply, twirling a lock of hair around his index finger. Iwaizumi smiled at this action. It was almost childish, and he was glad Oikawa hadn't changed at much as he thought he did.

"I haven't?" Iwaizumi snapped back to reality as Oikawa said this.

"Huh?"

"You said I didn't change all that much."

Iwaizumi blushed again, scratching the nape of his neck with one hand, the other safely holding the steering wheel of the vehicle. "I said that out loud didn't I?" Oikawa nodded. "Well, you haven't really. You might present yourself differently, but you still act like that annoying, crybaby dumbass I grew up with."

Oikawa huffed, crossing his arms and staring out the window. "You're so rude, you know that?"

"Whatever, Shittykawa."

"And vulgar!"

chapter 4 !

[lyssismagical]

in my need, you have always been there

Parkner Week Day Ten: “We’re going to frame you for murder” / canon-compliant / villain au

okay i know I’m like eleven days late but I got busy oops but here we are! the last installment of parkner week !! 

 Keeping his family safe was his number one priority as soon as Beck had appeared all over the news, so he made sure Happy was with May, and that MJ was going home with plans to talk to Ned, and then he started running.

He didn’t have time to pack a bag, not with the citizens of New York turning against him. They knew his face, they were staring and jeering and throwing things, there was nowhere for him to hide so close to everything. So he boarded a bus, hood pulled low over his face and eyes downcast, empty-handed aside from his phone and his wallet.

And then he was on the run.

It sounded so dramatic, even in his head, to be on the run. Despite having particularly bad periods with money in the past, Peter had only ever technically been homeless once and it was only for three nights, living out of May’s old car.

Peter doesn’t have a plan. He doesn’t have a passport, he’d lost it somewhere in Europe a few weeks prior. He only has a few dollars on him. His wounds from Beck in Europe still haven’t entirely healed, he’s still limping and his shoulder twinges.

Most people he knows lives in New York, and he definitely can’t stay anywhere near the whole state. He’s only ever even left New York three times. DC for Academic Decathlon, Germany with the Avengers, and the Europe trip for school.

Now, he’s apparently moving out of New York, on his own, with no money.

“Last stop!” the bus driver calls out, looking over at Peter, the last one on the bus. He doesn’t know where he is, where he’s going,  anything. But he gets off the bus, onto a dark, empty street, and watches as the bus peels away from the sidewalk, leaving him.

He made it to New Jersey. Not far enough, not yet. He needs somewhere to hide away for a few weeks, at the very least, until Pepper can figure this whole thing out.

As if on cue, his phone rings.

He’s about to decline it, he doesn’t want to talk to anybody he just left behind. He definitely doesn’t want to talk to May or Ned who will try to change his mind about running away. But it’s not them, it’s an unknown number.

“Hello?” Peter says, voice trembling already. He’s cold and tired and the fear of spending the night somewhere on the streets makes him desperately want to call May, get her to come save him.

“Peter Parker, right?” the voice asks, no tell of who it is beyond the southern lilt to his voice. “We met a couple months ago. At the… At the funeral?”

The hero flinches harder than he’d like to admit at the reminder of who’s not here. If Tony were here, Peter wouldn’t have had to fight Beck on his own, his identity wouldn’t have been leaked, and most of all, he wouldn’t be on his own right now.

Peter doesn’t remember much from the funeral, most of it having blurred away through his grief. He thinks he can remember a pair of bright blue eyes and a hand on his shoulder from who must’ve been the guy on the phone, but he can’t place a name of fill in the missing gaps.

“Sorry, I-”

“Harley Keener,” the boy says, not even phased at being forgotten. “I was the kid who talked about a potato gun? It’s not important. What matters is I just saw you on the news.”

Peter would’ve thought the potato gun idea would’ve sparked some memory, but he really can’t remember anything from that day. He can barely even remember what he said, himself, so it’s a lost cause to remember one Harley Keener.

“Why does it matter?”

Harley lets out a little laugh, the sounds of traffic washing over it. “You’re running away, aren’t you? You have a place to go?”

“No,” Peter admits half-heartedly. He doesn’t have any kind of plan.

“Alright, well, if you need a place to stay, Rose Hill is full of people who don’t care enough to watch the news, and I’ve got a couch with your name on it,” Harley says, voice light and breezy.

Peter frowns, moving closer to the nearest alley to get away from the prying eyes of the last few people wandering the streets. He tucks his arms close to his body, ankle aching with the pressure on it. “Rose Hill?”

“Tennessee, my friend.” Harley laughs again, bright and easy. “You wanna come stay with me while this whole thing blows over?”

“In Tennessee?” Peter’s not exactly sure why he feels like he’s stuck in molasses, unable to comprehend the offer. “With you?”

“Wow, harsh much. Listen, I’m on my way to come pick you up and get you somewhere safe, but it’ll take me a good ten hours to make up the distance, even speeding down backroads. Is there anywhere near where you are you could stay for one night?”

Peter frowns, looking up and down the street at the empty darkness, nobody here would be willing to let a poor kid sleep on their couch, and he certainly doesn’t know anybody living in New Jersey aside from one of May’s old coworkers, Janet, who used to babysit for Peter before she moved. Even then, he has no idea where Janet is, nor does he have anyway to contact her.

“I’ll, uh, yeah, I can figure it out,” he says, though he doesn’t think there’s any options. If he has to, he can spend the night in the alley if it means having somewhere warm and safe when he wakes up. “Thank you, Harley, I don’t know how-”

“Don’t sweat it.” Harley swears a few times under his breath. “I’ve gotta stop for gas in a second. Text me where you are, I’ll be there as soon as I can, yeah? And call me if you need anything.”

Peter nods a few times, looking down his alleyway into the darkness and shivers. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Good.”

Harley doesn’t bother with pleasantries or goodbyes, just hangs up the phone.

Peter slips down the alley, phone tight in his hand, and finds a nice spot between two big dumpsters, wedging himself in and trying to mentally prepare himself for calling it a night. Ten hours. He can do ten hours here.

* He doesn’t manage to do more than drift off, not really sleeping, arms tucked around himself like he’s trying to be his own blanket.

He keeps half his attention on his watch, keeping count of how much time he has left, and leaving his phone off, not wanting to drain the battery.

There’s only three hours left when his phone rings again.

“I’m getting gas and snacks, I’m in Virginia. Just a few more hours until I’m there. Anything you want me to pick you up?”

Peter’s teeth are chattering so hard he can barely get out a few words. “Something warm?”

Harley curses a few times and then there’s the sound of coins hitting a counter. “Are you- Fucking hell, I thought you were going to stay with somebody? Are you outside?”

“Alley,” Peter says, shivers wracking his body. At least that’s a good thing. Through his hazy memory, he thinks shivering’s a good thing. It’ll be bad if he stops shivering.

“Shit, okay, you know it’s fucking freezing out, don’t you? What kind of- Okay, I’ll make it two hours, okay? Can you do two hours? I’ve got a few blankets in the back of my car and I’ll make sure to pick you up a nice hot coffee or something. Is that okay?”

Peter nearly drops his phone, fingers going numb. “Mm, ‘kay. Two hours.”

“Two hours, Peter. Gotta hang on until then, yeah?”

“Yeah… Also,” Peter almost forgets where he’s going with his train of thought. “Also, gummy bears.”

“Gummy bears?” Harley echoes and then he laughs, a touch hysterical. “I can get you gummy bears, Peter. Anything else?”

Peter thinks for a long moment, eyes slipping shut. “A hug?”

There’s a beat of silence followed by more cursing and then a door opening and closing. Harley’s voice is soft, though, when he speaks. “I’ll give you the warmest hug in the world when I get to you, okay?”

“’kay.”

“Good. Two hours, you hear me, Parker?”

“Two hours.”

* Despite already promising two hours for a nearly three hour trip, Harley makes it in an hour and a half.

Peter hears the truck engine and he knows he should get up, meet Harley on the sidewalk, at the very least, pry himself out for between the dumpsters, but his legs are numb, thoughts escaping him, so he stays put, listening for the telltale footsteps.

“Peter?” Harley spots him a second later, face drawing up in worry and fear. “Oh shit, Peter, come on. Let’s get you out of there. Come here.”

Harley seems to understand that Peter’s incapable of getting up on his own, so he does most of the work of pulling Peter up and onto his feet, and then letting Peter lean most of his weight against the southerner’s side.

“T’ank you,” Peter stutters still, shaking from head to toe but feet too numb to do more than drag on the pavement as Harley drags him over to his running truck.

The older boy lifts him into the passenger seat, barely blinking an eye as he tugs off his hoodie and yanks it over Peter’s head. He grabs a thick blanket from the backseat and wraps it around Peter’s shoulders and puts a second one over his legs.

“That good?” Harley asks nervously. He looks over at the steaming coffees waiting for them, but he doesn’t seem to trust Peter’s hands to carry one.

Peter shakes his head, carefully extracting his arms to reach out for the other boy. He’s too tired to feel embarrassed by the silent request, mouth pouting and eyes undoubtedly sad and pleading.

“Oh, come here,” Harley says, voice dripping with sympathy. He wraps Peter up in his arms, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. Just as promised, it’s the warmest hug in the world. “I would’ve left sooner if I’d known. Pepper only called me after you’d left and then I had to convince Mom to let you crash with us and to let me skip school tomorrow… Anyways, you’re safe now. Nobody’s going to find you in Rose Hill.”

The warmth of Harley’s arms around him, the gentle smell of coffee and gasoline, the promise of safety, it makes Peter feel safe and makes the shivers dissipate.

“Thank you,” he repeats, tucking his head against the crook of Harley’s neck, taking a slow breath.

Harley smiles gently, only pulling back when Peter loosens his grip, as though he’d hold Peter as long as he wanted to.

“I’ll take care of driving, you sleep and eat your gummy bears and drink your coffee. It’s another twelve hours till we get home.”

Peter frowns, enough of a mind to worry about Harley. “You don’t want to take a break? You’ll be driving like twenty-four hours total.”

“It’s cool, don’t you worry about me. I’ll stop if I have to.”

Harley finally slips away from him, closing the door and then climbing into the driver’s seat, gunning the engine and starting off on their journey back to Tennessee.

“I still can’t believe this happened,” Peter admits. His shoulder throbs where the seatbelt digs into his old wound. “I was framed for murder. I was painted as a villain. After everything he did to me, everything he pretended to be… I thought it’d be enough for him to try to kill me and all my friends, to hit me with a fucking train, to betray me like he did, but no. He had to make it public, out my identity, call me a fraud. I just- I don’t know how I’ll ever bounce back from this.”

“You haven’t been on social media, have you?” Peter was expecting it to be a bad thing, but Harley’s smiling. He shakes his head. “It’s trending everywhere. Things like Spider-Man’s-A-Hero or hashtag I-Stand-With-Spidey. People telling stories of everything you did for them, how much you’ve meant to them. There’s always going to be people who don’t like you, but there’s also people who know what you’ve done for New York and the world.”

Peter frowns, looking over at Harley. The angle makes his jaw look strong and sharp, but Peter chides himself for focusing on it. “People are standing with me?”

“Course they are,” Harley says like it’s obvious. He throws a smile in Peter’s direction. “You’ve spent, what? Three years? Working tirelessly to reduce crime, save people’s lives, even last year, you saved the world. Of course they’re standing with you.”

It’s the last piece of reassurance Peter needs to get comfortable in his seat, curling up tightly and pulling his hood up over his head, and finally letting himself fall asleep in the comfort of Harley’s truck.

* By the time they finally reach Rose Hill, it’s night again.

Harley’s yawning, fingers tapping against the wheel as they pull up onto a gravel driveway, engine cutting off.

“Home sweet home,” Harley murmurs, helping Peter unbuckle his seatbelt. “Come on, I’ll show you around real quick, you can get a shower, and then you can sleep, okay?”

Peter nods, hopping out of the car and checking, almost obsessively to make sure his phone and wallet are still tucked in his pockets. He lets Harley wrap his arm around his waist, letting himself fall lax in his grip, following Harley up to the house.

It’s warm in the house too, smelling of laundry and baking. There’s a girl curled up on the couch, watching what looks like an old sitcom on the TV. She looks up when they walk in, face falling into a frown.

“You were gone for over twenty-four hours, Harley,” she says, turning her nose up petulantly. “Mom was worried.”

“She’s been stress-baking?” Harley questions, but he shakes his head before the girl can answer. “Peter, this is my little sister, Abbie. Abbie, this is Peter. He’s staying here for a couple weeks.”

Abbie’s eyes narrow as she looks him over and he’s immediately self-conscious. He probably looks awful, he probably smells like garbage, he’s probably dirty.

But she shrugs and offers a smile. “Welcome to Rose Hill, Peter. Home of douchebags and failures. Good luck ever getting out.”

Harley rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue with her. He tightens his grip on Peter’s waist, leading him out of the living room, up the stairs, and into a bathroom.

Peter showers quickly, not sure how much he trusts his own legs to hold him up. And when he gets out, there’s a pile of Harley’s clothes waiting for him. The hoodie is much too big, falling over his shoulders and down to his thighs, covering his hands, and the pants aren’t much better, barely staying up on his hips, but they’re warm and they smell like Harley, and they make him feel safe.

Harley’s waiting for him in the bedroom across the hall, sprawled out on a bed, looking seconds away from passing out.

“Do you have a pillow?” Peter blurts before he can stop himself. “You said, uh, that I’d be staying on the couch, sorry. Was wondering if-”

“Honestly, I really don’t care if you’d wanna crash here with me,” Harley says, voice slurring with exhaustion. He kicks at a blanket near his foot. “There’s enough space for you. Plus, it gets cold downstairs at night, wouldn’t want you freezing to death again.”

Peter can feel the blush creeping up his neck, but he holds himself together as he silently accepts the invitation, slipping into the space left on the bed. He tugs the blanket up and over his shoulders, letting himself sink into the mattress.

The older boy is like a heater at his side, radiating warmth, eyes already closed, hair like a halo around his tan, freckled face. He peeks open one of his eyes. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t-”

Harley laughs, unashamedly tossing his arm around Peter’s waist, who immediately relaxes in his hold. “Just teasin’. Go to sleep. Mom will no doubt have me up and ready for school in less than five hours.”

Peter’s not exactly sure how living in Tennessee is going to work out, he doesn’t know how long it’ll take until everything blows over, he doesn’t know how long it’ll be until he can say May and Ned and MJ again.

But he knows one thing.

He really likes staying here with Harley and he knows Harley will keep him safe and happy until he can return to New York.

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina  @spidey-reids-2003 @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @pj-hermes-tonystark-obsessed  @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester  @emo-girl10 @justme--emily  @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

[shadowywerewolfqueen]

Dark and Stormy Night

For Suptober Day 18. This one really got away from me!

It was a dark and stormy night. Thunder rolled over the land, causing the ground to shake with every rumble. Lightning flashed, illuminating the night with bright white streaks. Rain fell from the sky in waves, beating against anyone who was unlucky enough to be out in the downpour. 

Most creatures were curled up in their homes, unwilling to venture into the storm. One poor person was not so cautious. Dean Winchetser was driving down a lone road cutting through the forest on his way home from visiting his brother. It had been months since he had seen Sam and he knew it would be a long time before he saw him again. Even though the visit had required him to take five days off of work, he didn’t regret it one bit. He would never turn down an opportunity to see his little brother.

Dean knew he would pick up extra shifts at his jobs to compensate for the lost work days but he didn’t mind. Sam was doing amazing in college and therefore Dean’s hard earned money was being put to good use. He would work a dozen jobs if it meant Sammy got to have his dreams.

Dean tapped his fingers against the steering wheel of his 1967 Chevy Impala. Baby was the only thing left by his dad that Dean actually wanted. The thousands of dollars worth of debt was not wanted very much. Sam had offered to help pay off their dad’s bills, but Dean refused. Sam needed to save his money for better things. Dean didn’t mind working himself to the bone, it’s all he’d ever known. Sam was the smart one and had a bright future ahead of him. Dean was just a grunt. He had always been and always would be.

Dean was singing quietly to the rock song playing on the radio when suddenly a large black wolf ran across the road. Dean jerked the steering wheel to avoid hitting the animal and instead crashed into a tree sitting close to the roadside. “Son of a bitch,” he shouted as Baby’s hood grunted and groaned as it was crumpled. The car rumbled for a few seconds more before the engine and lights shut off, throwing Dean into silent darkness.

Dean grabbed his spare flashlight from the backseat and threw the door open and rushed outside to see how bad the damage was. He was immediately soaked all the way to his skin under the torrential downpour. Dean took quick stock of Baby’s crumbled hood, checking underneath to get a good look at the engine, and cursed under his breath. The damage wasn’t as awful as it could be and he would be able to fix it at the garage he worked at. The problem was, the garage wouldn’t be open for another five hours, so Dean couldn’t call them for towing assistance.

Once the damage had been assessed, Dean slipped back into Baby’s front seat, muttering a quick apology for getting water everywhere. He was already shivering as the chill from the rain seeped into his bones. He grabbed the blanket from the back seat and covered himself up as much as possible. 

Dean woke from a light sleep sometime later, unsure of how much time had passed. He blinked his eyes before turning his head to look out the driver’s side window and was surprised to see a pair of glowing blue eyes staring at him. He screamed and scrambled into the passenger seat as the eyes continued to look at him. Suddenly, the eyes disappeared.

Dean continued to stare at the empty space, his heart pounding heavily in his chest. He shook his head, trying to determine if he was still dreaming. Dean jumped, hitting his head on the roof, when there was a light tapping on his window. He was frozen as the tapping continued when a voice broke through the night. “Hello! Can you hear me?”

Dean slowly crawled forward and was surprised when he saw a hand knocking against his window. He reached for the handle and slowly rolled the window down, rain immediately blowing into the car. “Hello,” he called.

A head appeared in Dean’s line of sight. “Hey, it seems your car broke down. I can give you a ride to my place. At least, you’d have somewhere warm and dry until the morning.”

It was still too dark for Dean to make out much about the man. Dean chewed on his lips, unsure what to do. Being able to get out of the pouring rain sounded like a good idea, but this man could be some kind of murderer for all Dean knew. 

“Have you decided? It’s still raining heavily and I’m getting soaked,” the man shouted, obviously annoyed.

“Yeah, alright,” Dean replied. Hopefully his decision didn’t get him killed. He grabbed Baby’s keys, rolled the window up, and opened the door.

Dean slammed the door shut and made sure it was locked before turning towards the other man. “Follow me,” he shouted over the pounding rain.

They ran to a pickup truck parked a few feet away. They threw themselves inside, both sighing at escaping the rainfall. The man started the truck up and turned the heater up as high as it would go. Dean immediately held his hands up to the vents and sighed at the warmth that started to rush through his fingers.

“I’m Castiel. Nice to meet you,” the man said, his voice deep and full of gravel.

Dean turned to look at the man next to him and gasped. The guy was drop dead gorgeous and if the circumstances were different, Dean would already be flirting with him. He had shaggy black hair, a few day’s stubble, plump lips, and the most gorgeous ocean blue eyes Dean had ever seen. Dean was suddenly reminded of the eyes he had seen when he first woke up. This guy's eyes were almost the exact same color and Dean felt a tremor ripple through his body at the realization. “Uh, you didn’t happen to see anything around my car when you pulled up, did you?” Dean asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

Castiel tilted his head. “I saw a large shape next to your car, but it was too dark for me to make out what kind of animal it was. It disappeared into the bushes before I could shine a light on it. Why do you ask.”

Relief swept through Dean. “Uh, your eyes are eerily similar to the eyes of whatever was by my car. It’s a little creepy.”

Castiel’s lips curved up slightly. “I’m sorry. There’s not much I can do about that.”

“It’s ok. I’m Dean by the way. Thanks for stopping and offering me a place to stay.” Dean shivered, his wet clothes sticking to him like glue.

Castiel caught the motion. “Don’t worry. My house is only about five minutes away and then we can go inside and change into something dry and warm.”

“That sounds awesome,” Dean said as Castiel started the truck and pulled back onto the road.

Cas glanced at him before looking back at the road. “So, how did you end up hitting that tree?”

Dean growled. “Believe it or not, a damn wolf ran out in front of me! I didn’t even know wolves lived in Kansas. Anyway, being the nice guy that I am, I avoided hitting the damn thing and instead crashed into that tree. It’s a good thing I wasn’t going very fast or who knows what would have happened.”

Cas nodded his head, his gaze focused on the asphalt in front of him. “Well, I’m sure the wolf appreciates you not hitting it.”

“It better because now my car is wrecked. If I didn’t already work as a mechanic, there’s no way I could afford to get my car fixed. As it is, I don’t know how I’m gonna be able to get to my jobs without a working car,” Dean replied, tersely.

“Jobs?” Cas asked, obviously confused.

“Yeah, jobs,” Dean said with a nod of his head. “I work at Singer’s Garage during the day and then work at the Roadhouse at night. Helping to pay your brother’s way through college and having to pay off the debt left behind by your alcoholic father isn’t cheap.” 

Dean snapped his mouth shut, surprised at himself. He rarely talked to people and within minutes of meeting Cas, he was already spilling his secrets. Something about the man was relaxing and made him easy to talk to. Dean took a deep breath and his nose was filled with the warm scent of sandalwood and jasmine. He glanced at Cas, wondering where the smell was coming from. 

“I’m sorry. That must be tough to do. I work one job and it leaves me exhausted. I couldn’t imagine having to work two,” Cas replied with a quick glance in Dean’s direction.

Dean shrugged. “I’m used to it. Sam’s the smart one. I’ve never been good for anything besides grunt work. I ended up dropping out of high school so I could work full time just to be able to take care of Sam since dad was never around. When he told me he wanted to go to college, there was no way I was going to keep him from doing that. After dad died, I was forced to get a second job so I could continue to support my brother. His future is worth more than some lost sleep on my end.”

Again, Dean was surprised at how much he was telling Cas, but something about the man slipped past Dean’s reservations. He found that after keeping so much bottled inside for so long, he desperately wanted to get it all out. Cas actually seemed to be listening to Dean rather than just humoring him. Dean actually felt better, getting some of the weight he had carried for years off his shoulders.

By now they were pulling up in front of a log cabin. It wasn’t overly large but was bigger than Dean was used to. He had always lived in apartments and the one he currently lived in was nothing more than a run down crackerjack box. They exited the truck and quickly ran up the steps. Cas unlocked the door and then both rushed inside.

Dean could have wept with joy as he was surrounded by heat. His nose was once again flooded with sandalwood and jasmine. Maybe it was an air freshener or a cologne that Cas used and that’s why Dean smelled it earlier in the truck. He frowned at the water dripping off his clothes and forming a puddle on the floor. He looked at Cas and said, “You got a towel and I’ll wipe this mess up.”

“Let’s get changed first. If you want, you could take a shower while I get some clothes for you. I should have something that fits you,” Cas explained as he studied Dean up and down.

“That sounds great. Just point me in the direction of the bathroom.” Once Cas had given him directions, Dean made his way. He quickly turned the water on and stripped out of his clothes. As he stepped under the hot spray, he moaned in contentment.

He had just finished washing his hair when there was a knock on the door. “Dean, it’s me. I’ve got some clothes for you. Can I come in?”

“Yeah, just leave them on the sink. Thanks,” Dean called back.

He heard the door open and then shut a moment later. Once he was done showering, he dried off and then slipped into the sweatpants and shirt Cas had left. He couldn’t help but smell them, and something in his chest lurched at the warm scent that was practically imbedded in the fabric. He was definitely going to have to ask Cas about whatever scent this was because it was the best smelling thing ever. The clothes were a little tight but nothing Dean couldn’t live with. He dropped the towel in the laundry hamper and left his clothes hanging over the curtain rod to dry out a little bit. He then went in search of Cas. As he walked, he studied the pictures that were hanging from the wall.

There was one of Cas with his arms thrown around another man that was almost identical to Cas. The only difference was the eye color, Cas’ were a dark ocean blue and the other man’s was a bright electric blue. Another picture that caught Dean’s attention was one showing two large black wolves sitting side by side. Their eyes were eerily familiar and Dean found the two wolves stunning.

Dean walked into the kitchen to find the man standing in front of the sink, wearing a pair of gray sweats and a black t-shirt. Dean felt his cock jerk at the sight. “Down boy,” he muttered to himself. Dean knew before he left, he was definitely going to get Cas’ number.

Cas looked over his shoulder and smiled. “How are you feeling?”

Dean almost melted from the look that the other man flashed in his direction. “A lot better now that I’m warm, that’s for sure. Thanks for letting me use the shower and giving me some clothes to borrow,” Dean said as he took a seat at the table.

Cas turned around and leaned against the counter. “You’re welcome. Nobody should have to be out in that kind of weather. Tomorrow, if you want, I can tow your car to the garage.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can just call Bobby and he will send someone out. One perk of working there means I won’t have to pay for towing fees.” Dean paused before adding, “It’s the parts that are gonna cost me. I love having a vintage car, but the parts for them ain’t cheap.”

Something flickered in the depths of Cas’ eyes, but it disappeared before Dean could put a name to it. “I really don’t mind towing your car; It’s the least I could do. Besides, I needed to go into town anyway.”

Dean stared at him curiously. “What do you mean you owe me? Pretty sure, I owe you, not the other way around.”

Cas dropped his gaze. “I, uh, just meant… I, uh, owed you for your… uh company. It’s nice to not have to spend such a gloomy night alone.”

“O...k. You alright Cas?” Dean asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

Cas cocked his head. “Cas?”

“Oh, sorry. Your name is just a mouthful. I can say your whole name, though, if it bothers you,” Dean offered.

“No, it’s fine. Nobody has ever given me a nickname.” Cas moved to the fridge and opened the door.

Dean’s eyes went wide when he saw all the bags inside the refrigerator. Besides a six pack of beer and a few cans of soda, nothing but meat lined the shelves. His eyes jumped to Cas’ back as he felt his blood run cold. “Oh shit, this dude is like some kind of psycho murderer,” Dean screamed inside of his head.

He was jerked from his thoughts by the sound of a door shutting. “Dean, are you ok?”

Dean swallowed thickly. “Uh, is there any reason you have a fridge full of bags of meat?”

Cas chuckled softly. “I’m a hunter Dean. All of that is from the deer I killed recently. My freezer quit working, and I have nowhere else to put it. That’s why I have to go to town tomorrow, to buy a new freezer.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Dean replied, his body relaxing at the explanation. He knew he should be more cautious about Cas, but something about the man was making him lower his guard.

“What, did you think I was some crazy serial killer?” Cas asked..

“What,” Dean scoffed. “No, of course not!” He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks at his embarrassment. 

Cas obviously didn’t buy Dean’s lie. “Mhm,” he hummed as he handed a beer to Dean.

He took the beer from Cas and their hands gently slid against each other. Dean gasped as a jolt of lightning sparked through his body. Not only that, but Cas’ skin was like touching a space heater! Dean pulled his hand away and studied his fingertips, afraid to find them burned. He looked back at Cas and said, “Uh, Cas, I think you might be running a fever. You’re feeling a little warm there buddy.”

Cas straightened and held his hand to his forehead. “No, I feel fine Dean.”

Dean eyed Cas warily. “Are you sure because you feel like a fucking furnace! Your temperature must be at least a hundred and one.”

Cas smiled softly and took a sip from his Coke. “I assure you, Dean, I’m fine.”

“Dude, I swear if you pass out on me, I’m gonna be pissed at you,” Dean warned.

“I’m not going to pass out on you. Would you like to watch some TV before we head to bed?” Cas asked.

Dean still didn’t believe the other man but there wasn’t much he could do. He took a drag of his beer before replying, “Sure, why not.”

They headed into the living room and Dean took a seat on the couch. He sat his beer on the table and noticed something strange. He picked up the clump of black fur and stared at it. He looked down at the couch and noticed more strands of black fur. “Cas, you got a dog or a cat?”

“No, why would you ask such a thing?” Cas asked as he grabbed the remote from the TV stand.

Before Dean could respond, a lone howl shattered the silence. Cas immediately looked out the window and frowned. He mumbled something under his breath before looking at Dean. “I will be right back. I need to go check on something.”

He was gone without giving Dean a chance to say anything. After Cas had left, Dean looked back down at the fur clutched tightly in his hand. He started thinking about everything that had happened that night. 

First, he had seen a large wolf run across the road. Second, he had woken up in his car to a pair of bright blue eyes. Third, within minutes, Cas was knocking on his window, offering him a place to stay for the night. Fourth, Cas had a near identical eye color as the creature outside of his car. Come to think about it, the men and the wolves in the pictures had the same eye colors as well. Fifth, Cas had a fridge full of meat. Sixth, the man had a ridiculously high body temperature and was unfazed by it. Now, Dean finds animal fur and yet Cas claims he doesn’t have a pet. Not to mention the fact that as soon as Cas heard the howl, he said he had to go.

Dean dropped the fur as he put all the pieces together. “No fucking way,” he whispered to himself.

Everybody grows up hearing the tales of the shifters: humans who were blessed to have their souls intertwined with that of an animal, giving the person the ability to turn into that animal at will. Shifters were rare and reclusive, often living in places that resembled the homes of the animals they could turn into. Every so often, a shifter would take a human as their mate.

To be mated to a shifter was considered a great honor. Once mated, the human would go through a transition phase, turning them into a shifter as well. Shifters had heightened abilities, including better smell, sharper hearing, and increased strength. They also tended to have a higher body temperature than a regular human.

Dean looked up at the sound of footsteps. Cas came strolling back into the living room, a look of annoyance on his face. “Sorry about that. I forgot to call my brother about something.” He noticed Dean’s panicked look and asked, “Are you ok Dean?”

Dean jumped to his feet. “No, not really! I know what you are!”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Cas said slowly. “What do you mean you know what I am?”

“You’re a shifter,” Dean accused.

Cas came to a halt, standing to his fullest height. He ground his teeth together before asking, “What makes you say that?”

“There’s a lot,” Dean exclaimed. “But maybe the fact that you run extremely warm, have a fridge full of meat, and have black fur in your house even though you claim not to have a dog or cat! Not to mention, I wake up to see a pair of blue eyes staring at me and the next minute you show up, also with blue eyes! I even bet you were the wolf that ran across the road!” Dean gasped. “Is that what you meant when you said it was the least you could do when you offered to tow my car since you’re the reason I crashed in the first place.”

Cas sighed heavily and his shoulders slumped. He scrubbed his hand down his face before looking back at Dean. “Yes, I was the wolf that ran across the road, causing you to hit the tree. I was chasing after my brother and I thought you were further down the road than what you were. I’m sorry for causing you to crash. I will be more than willing to pay for any damage done to your car.”

Dean fell back onto the couch. Even if he had predicted the truth, he still wasn’t prepared to actually be told he was right. “Son of a bitch!”

Cas slowly walked towards Dean before taking a seat next to him. He smirked as he said, “I told you the wolf was probably happy that you didn’t run it over.”

Dean barked out a laugh. “I bet! Dude, I’m happy I didn’t hit you. Although Baby might not be so happy.”

Cas scrunched his eyes in confusion. “Baby?”

“My car that I crashed trying to avoid hitting your furry butt,” Dean explained.

Cas flinched. “I really am sorry and so is my brother. He said if there’s anything you need, he would be more than willing to help.”

“Your brother? When the heck did you talk to him?” Dean asked sharply. Cas gave him a deadpan look before Dean realized, “That was the wolf who howled, wasn’t it?”

Cas nodded. “Yes, he wanted to make sure you were alright. As soon as you crashed, I ran back here to pick my truck up.”

“Why the hell were you staring at me in your wolf form?” Dean asked.

“I wasn’t. That was my twin, Jimmy. He stayed behind to watch over you while I came back to get my truck since my house is closer. I apologize that he scared you. He told me if he didn’t already have a mate, he would definitely be interested in you,” Cas said, his cheeks stained a bright pink.

Dean snorted. “Yeah, well, he shouldn’t be. I’m not worth being mated to, especially to a shifter. Hell, the only relationships I’ve had for the past few years are random bar hookups. I’m not worth anything long term.”

“Don’t say such a thing. You seem like a wonderful person Dean,” Cas admonished. 

“The truth is the truth. I’m nothing special. I’m barely making it through life Cas. If it wasn’t for Sam, I’m not sure where I’d be. He’s the only reason I’m still trudging,” Dean explained.

Dean jumped when Cas grabbed his shoulder, the heat of his skin seeping through Dean’s thin shirt. “Dean, what you’re doing for your brother is amazing! You’re giving up your own happiness so that Sam can have his. I don’t know many people who would do that.”

“That’s because he’s worth it; even my dad thought the same thing. If he had had any money left over after he died, it would have gone to Sam. He didn’t intend to leave me a single dime, saying that a grunt didn’t need it,” Dean said bitterly. “The only problem was, his debt far exceeded his savings, so I got stuck paying off the ten thousand dollars worth of debt he still had.”

Cas growled low in his throat and it caused goosebumps to erupt on Dean’s skin. “Your father doesn’t sound like he was a very good man. You are not a grunt Dean, and you deserve so much better than the hand you’ve been dealt. You should have never been forced to drop out of school to take care of your brother. You shouldn’t be having to pay off your father’s debt. None of that should have fallen on your shoulders.”

Dean scoffed and looked at his hands. “It doesn’t really matter if I should have to deal with it or not because I do. That’s my life. Work two jobs, go home to a shitty apartment, and do it all over again the next day.”

“Does Sam know any of this?” Cas asked softly.

Dean’s head snapped up. “NO! When we meet up, I fly out to meet him. He offered to help pay dad’s debt, but I refused. He offered to help pay his tuition with the money he earns from his job, but again I refused. He deserved to be able to spend that money on himself. I know he hates living in the dorms. Maybe he can save up enough to get a small apartment next year.”

Cas moved his hand from Dean’s shoulder to his cheek, forcing Dean to look at him. “See, how could you think yourself unworthy of good things? It seems to me that you’re extremely self-sacrificing and Sam is lucky to have you for a brother. Your father just didn’t realize what he had in front of him: an amazing and loyal son.”

Dean felt a tear slide down his cheek before throwing himself into the shifter’s arms. He buried his nose in Cas’ neck, inhaling the soothing scent of Cas’ cologne: a combination of sandalwood and jasmine. He felt Cas wrap his arms around Dean’s waist and pull him in even closer to his body. “Shh, Dean, it’s ok. You’re ok,” Cas whispered softly.

“My dad hardly ever said a nice thing to me in the twenty five years of my life and in one night, you’ve said dozens of nice things. You’re too good to be true, Cas,” Dean mumbled against the shifter’s neck.

“You deserve to be told nice things Dean,” Cas replied softly. “If you’ll let me, I’ll tell you- hell I’ll give you nice things for the rest of your life.”

Dean pulled back. “What do you mean?”

Cas’ whole body went rigid. He nibbled on his lip before finally saying, “Please tell me you have felt a connection between us since we met.”

Dean rubbed at the back of his neck. “Well, yeah I have. Something about you makes you really easy to talk to. Not to mention, you’re fucking gorgeous and I’ve been attracted to you and that damn cologne of yours from the moment I got a good look at you in your truck.”

Cas tilted his head and squinted his eyes. “Dean, I’m not wearing any cologne. As a shifter, my sense of smell is already heightened. Most colognes are overpowering and make me sneeze.”

“Ok, so then what air freshener do you use because it’s the best smelling thing ever.”

Cas frowned. “Dean, I don’t use air fresheners either for the same reason.”

Dean shook his head. “Ok, so then why does everything around you smell like sandalwood and jasmine?”

A soft smile spread across Cas’ face. “Dean, that’s my scent. Every person in the world has their own unique scent.”

“Um, dude, I’ve never smelled another person before,” Dean said, looking at Cas as if he was crazy.

“Well, of course you haven’t,” Cas said with a roll of his eyes. “Humans don’t have a strong enough sense of smell like shifters do.”

“Then why can I smell you?”

Cas was silent for so long, Dean wondered if he was going to answer. Finally, in barely more than a whisper, Cas replied, “Because we’re true mates.”

Dean wheeled back as if he had been slapped. “NO! NO! Cas, no!” All shifters had a true mate, the one person that was their perfect other half. There was no way Dea was that for Cas.

At Dean’s words, the shifter crumbled in on himself. He slid from the couch, saying, “I’m sorry Dean. I don’t blame you for being upset.”

“Cas, wait,” Dean cried as he reached for the man’s wrist. “Why are you sorry? I should be the one apologizing!”

“You have nothing to apologize for. It’s not your fault that the wolf inside of me has claimed you for its own,” Cas said remorsefully.

“Cas, I’m sorry that your wolf was dumb enough to choose me! I told you, I’m not… I’m not special enough to have the honor of mating with a shifter. You deserve someone who is as amazing as you and… that’s not me,” Dean said, letting Cas’ wrist drop out of his grasp. 

Cas turned around, fire burning in his eyes. He grabbed Dean by the collar of his shirt and pulled him to his feet. Dean was a little afraid of the man standing before him; Cas looked every bit the predator that he was. “You are infuriatingly stubborn! I already told you that what you’re doing for Sam is something you should be proud of. You might not have much in this world Dean but it’s not because you’ve thrown your life away! It’s because you’re sacrificing it so that your brother can have a better one! That is not something to be ashamed of!”

“Cas, I work two jobs and live in a shitty apartment! If I’m not working, I’m probably sleeping because I’m exhausted from working eighty to ninety hours a week! I hardly ever go out with friends because I can’t afford it or I’m just too tired. Hell, I took a week-long vacation to go see Sam and am already figuring out a way to take some extra shifts to compensate for the lost hours.” The fight left Dean and he slumped against the shifter. He closed his eyes and took in another deep breath of Cas’ calming scent. “I have nothing to offer you.”

Cas petted the back of Dean’s hair. “Dean, I’m not asking for anything. I don’t care how much money you make or what kind of apartment you live in. Your worth isn’t measured by those things. It’s measured by what’s on the inside and trust me, you have a heart of gold. Just give me- give us a chance. My wolf has never steered me wrong before.”

Dean barked out a laugh. “I think that record is about to be broken.”

“Does that mean you’ll give us a shot?” Cas asked, afraid to get his hopes up.

Dean looked up at Cas and pressed their lips together in a gentle kiss. “Against my better judgement, yeah. I’ll give us a chance.”

A few months later, it was a dark and stormy night. Thunder rolled and lightning flashed. The rain had quit minutes ago and now the plants were wet and the ground was soggy. Most creatures were inside their homes, waiting for the rays of sunlight to dry the land up.

Two creatures were unlike the rest, running through the forest, uncaring that their pelts were getting wet and covered with mud. A large tan wolf was sprinting as fast as he could, a slightly smaller black wolf hot on his heels. Dean put on a burst of speed when he saw their cabin appear in his line of sight. He had just landed on the porch when Cas barrelled into him from behind.

They both crashed to the ground before shifting back to their human forms. Cas straddled Dean’s hips and looked down at the man he adored. “I told you I would catch you my love.”

Dean laughed as he stared at his mate. Even soaking wet, Cas was the most gorgeous man Dean had ever laid eyes on. “When you start gaining weight because you’re pregnant, let’s see if you’re as fast.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “I would still be faster. Those bow legs I love so much slow you down, which is good for me.”

Dean shoved at Cas’ chest playfully. “Keep gloating and you’re sleeping on the couch tonight!”

Cas leaned over and nipped at Dean’s lips before soothing the sting with a kiss. “Don’t make empty threats love. We both know you can’t sleep without my knot buried deep in your ass.”

Dean shivered at Cas’ voice, lust slowly thickening it. He felt a trickle of slick slide from his entrance as his own apple and pine scent thickened with arousal.  He wound his arms around Cas’ neck and pulled him closer, sealing their mouths together. Their tongues slid against each other as their hands roamed wet skin. “Love you Cas.”

“I love you too Dean. I’m so glad I chased Jimmy across the road all those months ago,” Cas replied with a smirk.

“Yeah, well, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m glad I crashed Baby into that tree. I can’t imagine life without you,” Dean said, pressing another kiss to his mate’s lips.

In the ten months they had been together, Cas had helped Dean turn his life around. Cas was a well published author under the pseudonym Emanuel Milton, one of Dean’s favorites actually, and had more money than he knew what to do with. He had helped Dean pay off his dad’s debt and get Sam set up in his own apartment. Dean was now living with Cas, beyond glad to be out of his shitty apartment. He still worked full time at the garage since he loved being a mechanic but only worked the weekends at the Roadhouse. Cas told him he didn’t have to work at all, but Dean couldn’t just sit around all day.

The best part of being with Cas was being turned into a shifter himself. Dean loved his wolf form and would spend much of his free time running through the woods with Cas. There had been a few things that had taken some getting used to, though. Shifters had secondary genders: Alpha and Omega. Cas was an Alpha and Dean had presented as an Omega meaning he produced his own lubrication and would have the ability to get pregnant. That had taken him a few days to come to terms with.

Dean looked at his stomach, already starting to show and couldn’t believe how freaked out he had been. He let his hand rest on the slight bump and smiled, excited to be growing a new life inside of him. He couldn’t wait to meet their pup.

Cas laid his palm over Dean’s. “What are you thinking about my love?”

Dean smiled. “Just how happy I am. I can’t believe I got the man of my dreams and in about seven months, we’ll have a pup of our own. It seems like I deserve nice things after all.”

“I told you, love, that I would give you nice things for the rest of your life if you would let me,” Cas said softly.

“Thanks for keeping your promise,” Dean whispered before pulling Cas into another heated kiss. 

“Thank goodness for dark and stormy nights,” Cas replied before he sealed their mouths together.

[cosmiccandydreamer]

Insecure chapter 2

( I do not own these gifs)

Paring: Otis Driftwood x Reader

Masterlist is here. Please see warnings ⚠️

Otis knew it, was a done deal; you were his forever, he already. y knew that he would never want anyone else but you at the moment you too became a couple. It was just different; no woman had ever made him feel this way before.  He remembers You and his sister running around like teenagers and how you didn't have a mother at home. You had an inattentive father on the road a lot, so you spent most of your free time doing your schoolwork here and trying to get Baby to do hers. Nothing seems to frighten you, even the occasional scream from the basement. No one lied to you about what was going on, but no one was outward sincere about the truth either. 

,

Otis back then looked at you like a little sister, helping you with your homework and on occasion ranting about how everything is wrong. He knew you were different on Baby’s 18th birthday when all of you were out. She ended up hitting someone with the glass bottle in the parking lot, killing him instantly. You said we got to hurry and bring them into the trunk of my car and into your basement. Otis was shocked at how you handled the situation despite the fact you seemed nervous; you kicked into high gear and took care of shit. 

After leaving to go to college a couple of cities over, he started to think about how much he missed you tagging around the house. When you showed up on a summer break asking him for his help with your political science homework, he knew he was hooked, but you were so young, just 21 years old; what would you want in this old man?. He remembers like it was yesterday when you came back at the giant smile on your face that you had gotten an A on your paper because of him but also some weird comments from your teacher. You sat on the roof laughing, sharing a bottle of Jack Daniels. He told him you were worried that your father was not going to be around much; what. You were going to have to sell the house. Suppose you can't find somewhere to move. In that case, you're probably going to have to move to California to live with distant family members. Baby heard that as she was coming up the stairs to the roof and said, no, you're not; you’re moving in here. Later that night, Baby eventually wandered off to go do fucked up shit in the basement, and you decided it was time to turn in; he insisted that you were too drunk to head home, and he helped you to his room. You knocked out, instantly curling up on the bed. 

As he stared at you for a good 30 seconds before leaving the room, he knew he was in trouble. That whole night while working in the basement, he couldn't stop picturing your beautiful face, fuck what were you doing to him. He felt this longing desire to cuddle with you right then and there. Still, he knew it wasn't right to make a move when you were shit faced, he wasn't a gentleman about many things, but he was going to do this right; hell, he wasn't even sure wh; hee was assuming was correct; he had a feeling you liked him, he saw the lingering looks you gave him, the way you made special trips to the house even when Baby wasn't there just to see him, the way you never seemed disinterested in anything he ranted about. You always asked what art piece he was working on. After a couple of hours, he headed back upstairs; he passed Baby in the hallway " Otis, where's y/n? She’s not in my room; she didn't drive home, did she ?!" " Naw, she passed out on my bed n? She’swer your god damn voice before you wake her up always fucking screaming and shit," he huffed, walking past her looking very confused, " I can take her to my room that's.." " No, you ain't you won't wake her up she's tired now go on getting dammit" he shooed her away toward the bedroom, she stared at him for a while unsure what to do, she didn't think he would hurt you, but this was strange for him to be so insistent. " Ok then .." Baby said, walking into her room. 

She had a feeling there was a little spark between you two even if neither of you wanted to admit it; she smiled while closing her door and happily pictured you as one of the family. Otis took his seat next to the bed; he planned on drinking some more than passing out in the chair; he began to nod off when he heard heavy distressed breathing that stirred him out of his sleep; he looked over to see you in what seemed to be an awful night terror, he quickly went over and shook you awake, " y/n hey hey sweetheart wake up it's alright" he shook you a little harder until you jolted awake and stared at him, you were breathing heavy and shaking 

" Otis I was having such a bad dream I got scared something happened to you I.. I.. I can't imagine that you're my best friend. I hated seeing you get hurt".. your voice started to crack and shake. He was moved; you had a bad dream/terror about him? Did you give that much of a shit about a crazy dick like him? This was crazy! " I think that's the first time you've said I'm your best friend out loud," he said, sitting next to you on the bed; you steadied your breathing and turned to look at him " well, you are. I mean, I've known you as long as Baby and we'll there are things I've told you I haven't even told her" " well shit mamas I think you’re my best friend too you're the only person I don't wanna punch in the face" this made you erupt in laughter which was a welcomed change from the horrible feeling you had just felt from your night terror, " well that's good to hear," you said earning a small chuckle from him, "I'll let you try and go back to sleep I'll be right there in the chair if you start to get spooked again" " wait for Otis'' you gripped his arm before he could exit the bed causing him to sit back down " can you tell me a story maybe your theory about the complexity of karl marx?" " You wanna hear that?" He asked, turning to look at you; you nodded and lifted his arm to cuddle up next to him, he froze; he wasn't sure if he wanted you to breathe, afraid this would ruin this moment; needless to say, he thought about you being so close many times especially when he had his hand in his pants, he leaned back. He got comfortable, " so in theory that's what I .." after about 15-20 minutes, you had fully knocked out against his chest, slowly snoring against his chest; oh man, he was in trouble now. It wasn't long after that that you, too, were a couple.

 You had come over the next day asking him to take a look at your truck when you lifted the hood and stood over the engine standing on your tippy-toes and your adorable butt poking out in your short jeans, he couldn't take it anymore when you lifted at your head up to say "I think it's this part.. " he lifted you and sat you on the hood of the nearest car, he confronted you about wearing such a cute outfit around someone like that does to him. You smiled  "well, I think it's doing exactly what I was hoping it would'' his eyes darkened, and a smile crept across his face. You admitted that you had feelings for him; there was a dark beauty to him that you had become addicted to and no one else would do. No one your age could satisfy you mentally the way he could, and given his stature, you assumed physically too. Needless to say, no work was done on your truck that day; he had lifted you into his arms and carried you into the house. A few weeks later, you were living in the house permanently.

Downstairs after the lovemaking and that unexpected show from you, Otis was doing well.. what he did best and was causing horrible terror and mayhem to what unfortunate soul happened to cross their path in the basement. Now In the past, when he's "working," nothing can distract him.. not even you, but something was different this time. He didn't like the look that you had given him earlier, the face of insecurity and doubt; he never wanted that kind of shadow to cross your mind again while with him.

 He decided it was time to finally make it official and marry you into the family. Of course, it would be unofficial. They were not once to go near any courthouse or any kind of compliant facility. He also didn't want you tied to him legally if, unfortunately, in the future, shit did hit the fan, and they had to flee.  He pondered this idea with a smile that old-fashioned slowly crept over his face. He liked the idea of you officially announcing to the universe that you were his, and he’s yours; he was a southern boy; after all, maybe some of those aches for the traditions still lingered in his subconscious. 

The idea of you being after that he comes home smiling made him feel a kind of warmness that he never thought possible. He walked down into the kitchen and saw you talking with momma while making dinner; yeh, this was the time. You were the one, you fit in with his family so well, and you hadn’t run out the door screaming yet; when mama walked out of the room to grab more supplies for the pies you two were making, he hugged you from behind, holding both your boobs in his large hands. " That was amazing  y/n guess you ain't mad no more " you placed your hands on his large ones, squeezing them a bit " I love you, Otis, so if this is something you want, I'll try and make it work it's just I gotta know you love me above all those things I don't wanna feel I gotta complete or I can be replaced" " nothing can replace you" he squeezed you a little harder he let you go walking back out the kitchen, he knew he had to do something soon to show you how serious he was about you, the idea that you felt this way and possibly had doubts means that you could have perhaps considered trying to leave and we can't have that he thought, the idea of losing you started to make him slightly panic, would you ever run off? Hell or try to too? Although he never said it, if you tried to run away from him, he would hunt you down and drag you back to the house, tie you to a chair until you explain yourself about how you could break his heart like that. I mean, granted, you two get into little spats here and there; he wasn't an easy person to live with. 

Even tho you would say you're sick of his shit, you always were there in his bed later that night, usually after talking shit in Baby's room or going to the backyard to hide out in the truck for a while. That night in bed, he watched you sleep, seeing your bare chest rise illuminated by the moonlight peeping in through the window; he couldn't believe that such a beautiful thing was willingly letting him touch it, love it, and keep it close; he had to do something soon to get this insecurity out your mind, he never wanted to see the doubt in your eyes again.