#Andrea x female reader

[tpwk-formula1]

Can I order

Ollie Bearman- Thin crust,red sauce,roasted mushrooms,bacon,pineapple with sprite,truly and Diet Coke with no dessert please💕

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

thin crust brother's best friend red sauce rough sex roasted mushroom “Fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy” bacon "What would your brother think if he caught us" pineapple "Look so pretty wrapped around my cock" sprite size kink truly belly bulge diet coke recording kink dessert no served by Ollie Bearman

Ollie x Antonelli! reader

TW - squirting, pussy eating, multiple orgasms, fingering, unprotected sex, filming the act, belly bulge, size kink

WC 1900+

Y/N POV

"Kimi, can I talk to you?" I ask after finally finding my twin brother hiding in the Mercedes garage getting away from all the media.

"What's up?" Kimi asks putting his phone down and giving me his full attention.

"So, you're probably gonna be mad but you cannot make a fucking scene," I tell Kimi making him sit up taller and stare at me with an unreadable face.

"Go on, I make zero promises," Kimi says making my pulse rise a bit.

"So, Ollie and I are dating," I say while giving Kimi a sarcastic smile knowing he wasn't happy the second the words left my mouth.

"Oh, I'm gonna fucking kill that giraffe," Kimi said while standing up and shoving past me.

"Kimi, we are in the fucking paddock keep it professional," I say while pulling his arm back slightly but he was on a mission that left me scrambling to follow him.

"Kimi, stop," I say again pulling him back a bit harder. This time Kimi stopped and looked at me with pure anger flashing in his eyes.

"Are you fucking serious right now? You planned this shit to tell me here in public so I couldn't blow up on either of you, but news flash, I dont care," Kimi said turning on his foot and marching towards the Ferrari garage.

We didn't even make it to the garage when we see Ollie pop out smiling and talking to one of the engineers when he spots both of the Antonelli twins approaching him. One radiating anger and the other radiating stress while still giving off a fake smile.

Ollie picked up on the signs and instantly popped back into the garage trying to get away before the much shorter boy reached him.

"No, Oliver Bearman get out here, I just want to talk," Kimi says. I'm shocked to find Ollie actually turning on his foot and coming back outside to stand in the middle of the pit area.

"How can I help you?" Ollie asks trying to mask his fear.

"Oh cut the shit, you and my fucking sister?" Kimi asks trying to keep his volume down but failing with how angry he is.

"Okay, before a full-out brawl occurs I think you guys need to take this into the garage," Fred says coming out of nowhere but quickly ushering the three of us into the Ferrari garage and into an unoccupied room before leaving the three of us to hash out our difference.

"Look Kimi, it's new, and I care a lot about your sister, I'm not in the business of hurting her," Ollie tells Kimi seriously. I can see a very perplexed look flash in Kimi's eyes before I watch his body physically relax.

"How long?" Is all Kimi asks sharply.

"Little over a month, it's new and we wanted to make sure it was gonna be more long term before telling anyone. You're the first person we are telling and I'm sorry if I did it in public I just knew you would flip shit... and I was right," I reply back softly. I can feel Ollie's hand brushing my back showing me that he is still there supporting me but keeping it respectful in front of my brother.

"Please, don't hurt her. I will run your ass off the track every single race if you do," Kimi finally speaks up making me smile and softly pull him in for a hug.

"It's gonna take time to get used to this shit, but I'm not gonna make you guys split or anything, but don't do weird shit in front of me," Kimi tells us making both Ollie and I smile.

"Deal, and thank you," I tell him softly.

We all leave the room and Kimi and I go back to the Mercedes garage where we spend the rest of the day talking and figuring out our plans for our upcoming vacation as well as sitting through boring Mercedes meetings.

"Hey, I'm gonna go see Ollie for a little bit and I should be back before dinner," I tell Kimi when we get back into our hotel happy to not have to be lying to him anymore.

Kimi just pulls a fake disgusted look before shooing me away.

When I get into Ollie's room I knock softly before I step in and pull him into my arms.

"Well that was interesting," I whisper making Ollie laugh and nod.

"He called you a giraffe," I tell Ollie making me laugh before looking down.

"He might be onto something," I joke when I realize how much I am having to strain my neck to look up at Ollie.

"I think you Antonelli's just don't know how to grow," Ollie said with a joking smirk written across his face.

"Oh shut up," I say not having anything to rebuttal him with.

I walk over to Ollie's bed noticing the the scattered clothes all around. Before climbing into his bed and making myself comfortable Ollie climbs onto the bed and into my space where he starts placing soft kisses across my jaw trailing to my lips where he pulls me in for a heated makeout session.

"I need you," Ollie whispers against my lips making me smirk slightly but agree anyway and pull Ollie in closer to keep the heated session going.

I can feel Ollie pulling off my tank top making me lift my arms and pull back to allow him to pull it off all the way and I make quick work of taking his shirt off leaving both of us bare from the top up given I wasn't wearing a bra.

"I love your pretty tits babe," Ollie mumbles against my neck before pulling in one of my hard nipples into his mouth making me gasp slightly.

"Not much there," I mumble which has Ollie lifting his hand and pinching my free nipple making me whimper slightly.

"Don't take about my favorite tits like that," he says while jokingly stroke them like they had feelings.

"Big apologies," I say with a joking eye roll. Ollie moves over to the nipple he had just pinched and starts sucking on it instantly making the sting go away and turn into pure pleasure.

"Fuck," I moan gripping into Ollie's hair pulling him closer needing him.

"Please," I beg wanting him inside me more than I want to continue the teasing. Even the begging doesn't cause Ollie just continues playing with my tits before finally unbottoning my shorts and pulling them down with my thong leaving me completely bare for Ollie to use.

"Fuck, so pretty baby," Ollie mumbles before he starts kissing down from my tits to where I needed him the most.

"Can we try something," I gasp when I feel a soft lick on my clit.

"Does it prevent me from eating this pussy right this moment?" Ollie questions clearly annoyed that I put a stop to his plans.

"No, I just wanna try filming ourselves," I tell him softly when I suddenly lose all of Ollie's warmth as he is across the room grabbing his phone and propping it up against the night stand to film our activites.

Once Ollie is back into the bed he makes quick work of pulling my clit into his mouth and sucking on it before he starts licking all around my pussy like a starved man.

"Fuck, best pussy ever," Ollie groans into my pulling makng me whine and moan when he sends a strong vibration through my clit just from him taking into my pussy.

"Ollie, so good!" I gasp when he slips two fingers into my pussy and searching for my G-spot which didn't take him long.

"What would your brother think if he caught us? Yo clenching around my fingers and my face burried in your soaked fold while you're begging for more," Ollie says with a smirk making me gasp at the mention of his best friend.

"He's fucking murder you in cold blood," I tell him which makes Ollie laugh lightly before he slaps my inner thigh making me jump slightly and gasp from the sting.

"Well then, be a good girl and don't get too loud, he's right next door," Ollie tells me before going right back into my pussy and teasing my clit with his tongue.

"Ollie, I'm so close," I moan while pushing his head deeper into my pussy and holding him there while he speeds up his fingers working on my G-spot helping bring me over the edge into a loud orgasm.

"Fuck, Ollie!" I scream out before covering my mouth and start cumming all over Ollie's face. Ollie's fingers leave my pussy wrapping both arms around my thigh and holding me in place while he helps ride my orgasm out. Once my orgasm has finished Ollie continues teasing my clit allowing for the overstimulation to sink in before he pulls away and instantly pulls his pants and boxers off before climbing between my thighs and sinking right into my cunt leaving no time for me to adjust.

"Look so pretty wrapped around my cock" Ollie mumbles while he starts thrusting his hips making me whine at how much he is stretching me out.

"Too big," I whine looking up at Ollie who has a proud smirk on his face while he concentrates on thrusting into my pussy at a consistent pace.

When I feel Ollie softly place his hand on my tummy and push down I scream out because he threw me into an unexpected squirting orgasm.

This doesn't stop Ollie from fucking into me but he does move his hand but continues staring at my tummy making me look down and notice the very noticeable bulge in my tummy.

I knew Ollie was big but seeing a bulge in my tummy that is clearly made by his dick was surprising.

“Fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy," Ollie says clearly loving it just as much as I loved it.

"Fuck, Ollie," I moan.

I feel Ollie reach his arm over to the nightstand where he picks up the phone and turns the camera towards me.

Ollie made sure to keep the camera focused on everything but makes sure to draw attention to his cock poking through my stomach where he softly pokes at his cock each time he thrust in making me whine.

"You gonna cum all over my cock again?" Ollie states more like a question before he pushes down on my tummy again while he makes sure to keep the camera focused.

"Fuck," I scream again while cumming all over Ollie's cock again making him pull out and cumming all over my tummy and cumming so hard some of it landed on my tits.

"Fuck," Ollie groans before ending the video and getting me a towel so he can clean his cum up.

When I hear my phone ring next to me I look at it and notice that it's Kimi calling.

"I think he might have caught us," I joke while showing Ollie who was calling. Ollie makes a fake oopsie smile truly not really caring. I ignore the call but quickly receive a text from Kimi that says "Hanging out my ass"

I just laugh and ignore him pulling Ollie in closer.

[lildavewrites]

the way you felt in my arms | kimi antonelli

requested? : yes! ‘hey there! could you pls write one where reader is ollie’s sister and kimi and her have been sneaking around dating for like 6 months or so. and then ollie catches them.’

edit: I have completely lost the request- I am so sorry 😭

edit 2 : I FOUND THE REQUEST FOR YOU POOKIE<3

summary : an accidental sleepover exposes your secret relationship with kimi to your brother

disclaimers : second pov (you/your), bearman!reader, rather fluffy in the beginning, not proofread

word count : 2k

a/n : thank you for the request! I love writing for kimi atm, so if anyone has any kimi (or ollie) requests send them in bc they are likely to get done fast lol

MEXICO GP WEEKEND

When Ollie had first introduced the two of you, his little sister and his best friend, he made it pretty clear that he didn’t want anything to happen between you two. You and Kimi had clicked instantly, finding you had a lot in common, and it didn’t take long for your friendship to grow into something more. You were hesitant to get into a relationship with Kimi though, knowing how upset Ollie would be, but that didn’t last for long. Some flowers and a promise to keep it secret was all the convincing you needed.

Thats how you found yourself in Mexico, standing outside of Kimi’s hotel room at 10:30pm on a Thursday, blanket and snacks in hand. You quietly, and quickly, knocked on the door, adrenaline high as you glanced at the door to the right, which was where your brothers room was. You had gotten pretty good at sneaking around in the past six months, but you were still nervous of your brother finding out everytime you did.

You worries quickly melted away as the door opened and you were met with a large smile. You matched his smile, quickly making your way into his hotel room. You set your blanket and the snacks you had grabbed from the corner store on his bed, then turned towards Kimi. His hair was damp, a few curls splayed across his forehead, and he was dressed comfortably.

“Hi,” Kimi said as he made his way to you, arms wrapping around your waist. Your arms instinctively reached up to wrap around his shoulders, and you could feel him relax under your embrace. He pulled back after a moment, and it was then you could see how tired he was. Your eyes softened as you reach a hand up to run through the back of his damp curls.

“You look tired, do you want to reschedule?” you asked, to which Kimi quickly shook his head to. You gave him a small smile, but you couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty because you knew he had had a busy day with media duties and team meetings, and he had to be at the paddock early tomorrow. “Are you sure? It's okay,” you added.

“No, no,” He said, placing a quick kiss on your forehead, before stepping around you to the bed, though his hand found yours and he pulled you with him. “And, I have your favorite movie,” he added, turning to you with a wide smile as he turned his laptop towards you to show it already loaded up on the screen.

Your heart swelled at the small action, seeing your favorite movie, which you knew Kimi was not a fan of. “You hate that movie,” you said with a laugh, following him around the side of the bed, grabbing your blanket in the process.

He flashed you a sheepish smile, pulling you onto the bed with him. “Yeah, but you love it,” he said, his tired eyes finding yours. You both cuddled up under your fluffy blanket, his arm wrapping underneath your waist and your head leaning on his chest. He grabbed his laptop, placing it where you could both see the screen, then played the movie.

It was quiet nights like these that you cherished, nights that were becoming too far between for both of your liking. It was rare either of you went on public dates, trying to hide your still new relationship from both the media and your brother. You hadn’t originally set out to hide it from Ollie for as long as you had been, but the more Ollie noticed how close you two had gotten, the more he doubled down on not wanting you two to be anything more than friends. You did plan on telling him soon, but for the time being both you and Kimi loved that your relationship was just yours. The sneaking around, only seeing each other after dark, stealing glances from afar, kisses behind closed doors; it was exhilarating.

Not even ten minutes into the movie, you had looked up to comment on something, but saw Kimi was asleep. His features were calm and he looked so relaxed, you couldn’t help the small smile that made its way across your lips. You stayed like that, just admiring your sleeping boyfriend, for a few more minutes, before reaching down and closing the laptop, moving it to the other side of you guys. As comfortable as you were and as much as you wanted to stay, you knew you couldn’t. All your stuff was back in your room, and Ollie would be looking for you in the morning.

As carefully as you could, you tried to slide out of Kimi’s arms without waking him. You had nearly managed to when you felt his once loose grip on your waist tighten before pulling you back to your previous spot. You chuckled as you looked up, meeting his tired, still half-asleep, eyes.

“Stay?” he asked quietly, his voice only a whisper. You smiled, but shook your head, knowing that you couldn’t. Kimi sighed, but didn’t move.

“Love, I can’t,” you said, chuckling as he huffed. “I don’t have any clothes,” you added.

“Wear mine,” Kimi said back, eyes now closed as his hand gently ran up and down your side.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure Ollie would love to see me rep Mercedes,” you retorted, earning a small chuckle from Kimi.

“He wouldn’t suspect a thing,” he joked, earning a quiet laugh from you. A short silence fell between the two of you, and for a moment you had thought Kimi had fallen back asleep. After a moment, he spoke up again. “You’re so relaxed, I can feel it. You don’t want to leave,” He said, still trying to convince you to stay.

You looked up again, seeing a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and couldn’t help the smile that then tugged at yours. You laid your head back on his chest, pulling the fluffy blanket back around your body.

“No, I don’t,” you admitted. You didn’t plan on staying the whole night, just until Kimi fell back asleep, but it seemed that wasn’t going to happen unless he thought you were staying.

Or at least, that was the plan.

But the longer you waited in the dark and quiet room, cuddled up to Kimi, the more your eyelids began to droop. Everytime you were sure Kimi had fallen back asleep, he’d mumble something to you or move his hand up and down your side again for a short time, letting you know he was still awake. Eventually, you just couldn’t keep you eyes open any longer, and you slowly succumbed to sleep.

You were startled awake by a loud banging at the door, followed by a shouting voice. You picked your head up, tired eyes meeting a confused Kimi, who was patting around the bed for his phone. You looked around the still dark room, but paused when your eyes landed on the window, seeing the sky painted with shades of pink and orange. It was morning and you were still in Kimi’s hotel room.

“Kimi, we need to go!” a familiar voice shouted through his hotel door, followed by a series of loud knocks. It took you a minute before you realized the voice was your brothers.

“Shit,” you cursed, eyes wide as you turned to Kimi, who was mirroring your expression. You shoved his shoulder, trying to tell him to get up, while you gathered your blanket and jumped up from the bed.

“What do you want me to do?” Kimi asked in a not-so-quiet whisper, texting Ollie from his phone to say he’d be out in a minute. You folded your blanket in your arms, setting it in the corner of the room, before turning back to him, shrugging your shoulders.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, grabbing your phone to see a few texts and missed calls from Ollie. “Oh, he knows,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself but Kimi had overheard you as he was trying to quickly get ready.

“What?” Kimi asked, appearing at your side as you showed him the texts, which were a mix of ‘did you oversleep?’ and ‘where are you?’. His hand found your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe he doesn’t, you could just wait here until we leave,” he suggested.

“Maybe,” you said with a nod, although you had a feeling that your brother did know. You and Kimi had both been m.i.a all morning, it wasn’t that hard to put two and two together. “But you have to get going,” you said, helping Kimi gather his things. You leaned up, placing a quick kiss to his lips, before shoving him towards the door. You then quickly ducked behind the wall, sitting back down on the bed out of sight.

Kimi cracked the door open just far enough for him to be able to slide out, but was stopped by Ollie before he could. Ollie had his arms crossed, eyes moving from Kimi to try and peer into the room.

“Who were you talking to?” he asked, looking back down at Kimi, who was shaking his head.

“Uh- myself?” he said as more of a question, trying again to step out of the room, but the taller brunette across from him didn’t budge.

“Mate,” Ollie began, an unamused look on his face, “is my sister in there?”

Kimi was silent for a moment, clearly not expecting that to be one of the first questions Ollie asked, but that was all the answer he needed.

You buried you head in your hands, sighing. This was not the way you wanted your brother to find out about your relationship. You stood up, figuring that the cat was already out of the bag, and made your way over to the door, pulling it fully open. Your eyes met Kimi’s momentarily, and your hand found his.

“Look, I can explain,” you started, looking up at Ollie, trying to read his body language, which was seemed to be displeased. He simply shook his head, his eyes darting between the two of you.

“How long?” he asked, eyes now locked on yours.

“Um- about six months,” you mumbled after a moment, your eyes darting to the floor. You felt Kimi gently squeeze your hand, catching your attention. “I’m sorry Ollie, we were going to tell you eventually.”

“Eventually? In another six months?” Ollie asked with a slight scoff, and for a moment it seemed like he was actually upset. He paused, a sigh leaving his lips as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I don’t care, it’s just weird,” he said, and almost instantly a tiny weight felt like it was lifted off of your chest.

“Actually?” Kimi asked, having expected a completely different reaction to his best friend finding his little sister in his hotel room.

“Yeah, I guess,” Ollie said, crossing his arms again. “We’ve got to get going,” he added, looking at Kimi, who quickly nodded his head.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kimi said, turning to you. “I’ll see you at the track?” He asked, seeing as you still had to stop back at your room to get dressed and ready for the day.

You nodded your head, turning to Ollie. “Be nice,” you said, giving him a small glare, as you knew Kimi was about to get a lecture from him on their way to the track.

Kimi gently tugged on your hand, catching your attention, and placed a quick but sweet kiss to your lips.

“Woah- I do not want to see that!” Your brother exclaimed, bringing a hand up to cover his eyes as he turned around, causing both you and Kimi to chuckle.

Ollie wasn’t entirely happy about the idea of his little sister dating his best friend, but as long as you were happy, and he didn’t have to see any pda, so was he.

masterlist | have a request? send it in!

[musaslullaby]

I'm sorry

grid x fem reader

p1 p2 p3 p4

Summary: The race didn't go as planned.

Face: people on Pinterest, Bianca Bustamante and the driver

Warning: Most of the grid has a small weakness for you. It's a series

Masterlist

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Yn.official

Description: It's Friday, then it's Saturday, Sunday what??

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and other 9384934802

f1lover: The kiss??

vroom: Who wouldn't? ❤️ Like to author

Race: Go girl.

user34: What a shame.

user12: Just a way to get attention.

lewishamilton: If Mr. Dad gives me permission, I'll give you a kiss on the cheek.

❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Dad???? Plssss.

maxverstappen1: Daniel, say no.

charles_leclerc: Reminder, we have a race today, Daniel.

carlosainz55: Be careful with what you do.

danielricciardo: You have my permission. ❤️ Like to author

Formula: Daniel fears nothing and no one.

one_: I want a dad like Daniel.

Olliebearman: It's been nice knowing you, Daniel.

kimiantonelli: You were a good father. ❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: The best dad in the world.

danielricciardo: You’re exaggerating.

landonorris: Absolutely not.

op81: The McLaren cap?

❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Nice, right?

landonorris: It looks even better on you. ❤️ Like to author

user32: I don’t understand how drivers are into this girl who has nothing special.

user4: They’ll realize it soon.

lewishamilton

Description: The kiss

liked by kimiantonelli, Yn.official, and other 49892923898

oscarpiatri: I wish I were Roscoe right now.

kimiantonelli: Me too.

landonorris: She looks beautiful even with sunglasses.

georgerussell63: She looks good in everything. ❤️ Like to author

Love_: How are they so relaxed before a race?

user34: She’s relaxed because she knows she can’t compete with the others.

user3: She can only watch and learn.

user56: The dog doesn’t seem happy to me.

Race: Actually, if you notice, he’s literally melting into the hug.

Formula: He’s perfectly calm, or else Lewis would have stepped in.

charles_leclerc: Where did you get those sunglasses? I want them toooo!

Yn.official: Sorry, but they’re only for cool guys. ❤️ Like to author

carlosainz55: So are you telling me?

Yn.official: Mmm let me think, no. ❤️ Like to author

danielricciardo: That’s my girl. ❤️ Like to author

f1

Description: During this race, Yn Yln lost control of the car and crashed into the barrier. Fortunately, we know she's okay, but there's a lot of disappointment.

liked by charles_leclerc, lqndonorris, and other 98989898

f1lover: Don’t worry Yn, you did great anyway.

Race: Guys, let’s remember she’s new to F1.

Vroom: We need to wait for the interviews to know more.

One_: Did you see her face when she got out of the car?

Ynmyqueen: Yes, she looked so sad, she had tears in her eyes.

Ynmylife: Yn, remember you’re amazing, don’t get discouraged.

OllieYn: Keep fighting.

user45: This is what happens when you flirt with drivers instead of training.

user6: Go back to F2, Yn.

user12: She shouldn’t even be racing anymore.

user78: I wouldn’t blame them if they fired her.

user9: She would deserve it.

Yn.official

Description: Guys, I’m really, really sorry. I promise I’ll do better next race.

liked by Olliebearman, oscarpiastri, and other 723672376

landonorris: Please don’t cry.

oscarpiatri: It happens to everyone to lose control of the car.

charles_leclerc: You made a mistake, and it’s human to make them. Don’t worry.

georgerussell63: Don’t be so hard on yourself.

kimiantonelli: Yn, seriously, it’s all okay.

Olliebearman: Haas didn’t blame you, so you don’t need to worry.

f1love: Yn, we love you.

Race: You won’t lose your job.

Vroom: Don’t apologize, everything’s fine.

danielricciardo: Sweetheart, don’t keep watching the crash video on repeat, it won’t change anything.

lewishamilton: If you need anything, your parents are always here.

user0: Please, stop pretending to be sorry.

user8: Yeah, now she has to play the victim, so she’s crying on Instagram.

user78: Yn, we don’t want to hate you, but you don’t do anything to make us love you.

user23: Guys, poor thing, let her pretend a little longer.

user5: Disgusting.

landonorris

Description: I'm going to cheer Yn up.

liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55, and other 27727288

charles_leclerc: Give her lots of hugs from us.

❤️ Like to author

oscarpiastri: I wish I were there with you. ❤️ Like to author

carlossainz55: Cabron, do what we can’t. ❤️ Like to author

danielricciardo: I’ll be there soon. ❤️ Like to author

landonorris: She won’t admit it, but she wants you there.

maxverstappen1: I swear, if you make her cry even more, you won’t make it to tomorrow.

landonorris: Don’t worry, I’m not that bad.

georgerussell63: But your sense of humor is awful.

landonorris: No, it’s not.

Olliebearman: Are we sure?

kimiantonelli: Absolutely sure?

formulaone: What a sweet thing.

one_: Norris is such a sweet guy.

Race: Such a good guy.

Vroom: Please, Yn, don’t cry.

1_11: I’m sure the second photo wasn’t meant to be posted by Yn.

user54: Yeah, sure, all just for views.

user6: Let her cry.

user9: It’s a fact, she did awful in the race.

Yn.official

Description: The little girl needed her father.

liked by yourcousin,danielricciardo , and other 88238239

comments restricted

danielricciardo: The father will always be by his little girl’s side.

❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: I don’t know what I’d do without you.

danielricciardo: You probably wouldn’t have eaten those delicious desserts. ❤️ Like to author

landonorris: Which you definitely didn’t make yourself.

danielricciardo: Shut up, Lando.

yourcousin: Yn, don’t get discouraged. Being a woman on the grid isn’t easy, but you shouldn’t beat yourself up for your mistakes.

❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Thank you, I love you.

yourcousin: I love you too, darling. ❤️ Like to author

kimiantonelli: Are you feeling better now, Yn?

❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Yes, thank you all so much.

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Tag list

@barcelonaloverf1life @exotic-iris13

[gogoconvstore]

hello bestieee 😚😚

new request!! poly bearnelli texts with an s/o who is shy about affection ? 👉👈

fanks :]

-bear anon

BEARNELLI X AFFECTION SHY READER TEXTS~!

REVERSE VERSIONS:

[chanelnumbermine]

2024 f2 boys when someone else compliments you | f2 grid picks x gn!reader

since u liked the previous part so much, i decided to write a little more and added franquito! he has a special place in my heart after this season (mentally i’m still in imola sprint). i’m very open to learn about more drivers and add them to the list! have a nice read!

pairing(s): ollie bearman x gn!reader, kimi antonelli x gn!reader, zane maloney x gn!reader, paul aron x gn!reader, pepe marti x gn!reader, luke browning x gn!reader, franco colapinto x gn!reader;

warning(s): itty bitty possessive behaviour, mostly cuteness!!

ollie bearman | prema —> haas f1

squeezes your hand and smiled politely

"thank you. they really do light up every room."

he says dryly and tries to shrug off this weird feeling in his chest

becomes a little stiff and after a while he asks

“do random people compliment you like that often?”

you shrug and smirk, seeing he’s a little jealous

“they were right, you look stunning. i should say that more often”

andrea kimi antonelli | prema —> mercedes amg pertronas

he’s already a little flustered because you came over to see his family

you click with them instantly

"uh, thanks mom. i say it every day."

to him you’re the sweetest prettiest person ever and he sometimes forgets that other people can also see that

it’s just hard to remember about the whole world when he’s in your presence

you’re his and he’s fully yours, and he’ll spend the rest of the day clinging to you

he’s nott that good with words, but very good at making you feel loved

paul aron | hitech —> bwt alpine reserve driver

i bet it was one of your friends who complimented you

and paul? tries to outdo the other person with compliments

"you're not just radiant, darling, you look literally ethereal. you know, your eyes ere like the moon. so big and shiny."

thinks he's smooth

he's not

but he's adorable as hell, grinning like and idiot and spewing nonsense just to make you laugh

you'd have to kiss him to shut him up

“i was supposed to make you blush, not the other way around…”

zane maloney | rodin —> formula e

awkward as hell

could be even a little insecure

why would anyone dare compliment you? do they think they have a chance with you?

he tries not to show it, but is not good at it

"aww, are you pouting?" you teased him

he chuckled and scratched the back of his neck nervously

"what, me? you're seeing things"

please reassure him!! he’s the sweetest bunny

pepe marti | campos, red bull academy

"yeah, of course my baby looks beautiful tonight."

goes full on protective mode

could become sarcastic, maybe even passive-aggressive

"i knew this day would come. i have to fend off other admirers."

you laugh and poke his arm

"must be so hard having a beautiful partner, huh?"

huffs playfully and kisses your forehead

luke browning | hitech —> f2

he was joking around with his friends when one of them made an innocent cute comment about your looks

“i know, right? they make me look better just standing next to me”

tries to divert the attention from you

on the outside he seems quite normal, but inside he’s seething with jealousy

like, why would anyone feel the need to point out the obvious???

sneaks his arm around your waist

peppers your face with kisses when you have a little time alone

franco colapinto | mp —> williams racing

whatever the circumstances, he goes into full yapping mode

franco takes seizes every opportunity to brag about who he managed to pull

"right!! you see, mom, they bake the best cookies. one time, when we were in madrid, we ate those cinnamon buns i like so much and..."

he just wants everyone to know you're the best person he's ever had the privilege to meet

he wants to share all the best memories with his family! and has no filter

"no, sis, we weren’t drunk that much… oh, you’re totally right amor, we were, sorry”

the compliments are flowing from both sides, its very natural and franqui doesn’t get worked up at all

masterlist

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 3

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: Ready for some more ridiculous flirting? lol

🔥 Series Masterlist

Song Inspo: “Got a Hold on Me” by Christine McVie (of Fleetwood Mac) Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: Mutual pining, fluff, first encounters and first dates

Part 3: “Got a Hold on Me”

Your gaze drew a path onwards, eventually reaching the other end of the bar.

There you caught sight of red flannel over a black undershirt, familiar broad shoulders, and an even more familiar face. Your eyes widened a fraction as his met yours, gleaming with recognition…and interest.

That slow smile of his was familiar too. It made a lance of heat run down your spine. You gripped the counter, mostly to steady yourself as you let out a breath.

Lieutenant Winchester.

You couldn’t help but smile back as you met the man’s gaze across the bar.

You recognized his bearded friend, Benny, who leaned over and said something to Dean. You couldn’t hear him, of course, but maybe he was asking a question. Because Dean nodded and said something in reply before he picked up his glass of what looked like whiskey. And he smoothly got up out of his seat.

Anticipation and nerves coiled together in your lower belly. You turned to your friend, who was already sipping at her vodka cranberry.

“Dre, help me,” you pleaded.

Andréa discreetly followed the path of your gaze, and her brows raised. A smirk curved her lips.

“Oh, babe. You need to help yourself,” she replied.

“I haven’t done that in a while,” you admitted. Your dating life had been sorely lacking, between the demands of your job and taking care of things at home. “I’m gonna say something demented.”

Andréa huffed in amusement.

“So? That’s half the fun,” she said. A smile curved her lips. “I think I’m going to go play some pool.”

And with that, your friend abandoned you. She slid off her seat and patted your ass on her way over to one of the pool tables. You watched her go with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. 

“There you go, hun,” said Jo. She slid your drink in front of you. It came in a deep round glass on a stem, with a straw on the side.

“Thanks,” you replied.

You opened the straw and took a small sip to steady yourself, as you saw Dean coming out of the corner of your eye.

You even pretended not to notice the handsome man sliding into the seat next to you. His elbows rested on the counter next to yours, and you finally glanced over at him.

“Can I help you, sir?” you asked. A coquettish smile played at your lips, but you even surprised yourself with your smooth delivery. Inside, you had butterflies.

You didn’t notice the way Jo’s gaze lingered on you and Dean, a frown marring her features. Though she soon moved on to another patron.

And Dean’s attention was solely on you. He gave you a handsome smile, full of charm. You gave him expectant brows. 

“Well, we’ll see. I’ve got a question for you,” he said.

You indulged him with a nod. “Okay. What’s your question, Lieutenant?”  

“Why Girl Scout cookies?” he asked, speaking of the baked goods you’d brought by the firehouse yesterday. “I mean, we’ve gotten cakes, muffins, Krispy Kreme donuts. But I gotta say, we’ve never gotten some bakery-style Trefoils.”

Your smile brightened a bit.

“Who doesn’t like ‘em?” you asked. “I mean, you can walk by their table and be all coy and pretend you’re not going to buy anything, but then you walk away with half a dozen boxes of Thin Mints.”

Dean chuckled, and you enjoyed the way it crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Or is that just me?” you added, and once again sipped at your drink. 

Meanwhile, Andréa felt a hot gaze on her as she set up the cue balls on the pool table. She allowed it with a subtle smile. If it was the same one she’d crossed paths with earlier when she walked in with you, then she didn’t mind.

She was, however, getting impatient.

“Mind if I join you?”

The pleasant drawl of the man’s voice licked up her spine. When she glanced over her shoulder, her smile widened a fraction. Finally.

“For a game?” she asked. She straightened, brushing a smooth wave of dark hair off her shoulder.

And she turned to meet the bearded man standing casually behind her, resting his glass on the edge of the pool table. The gray of his rolled up, buttoned-down shirt brought out the vivid blue of his eyes. But even though he was tall and broad, he didn’t seem intimidating.

“To start with,” he said. His lips quirked at a smile. “But first, I think it’d be a damn shame if I didn’t ask for your name.”

Andréa’s head tipped to one side as she considered him. She picked up the second pool stick and handed it to him.

“Are you going to ask?” she replied. Her fingers curled around her own stick as she leaned a hip against the table. 

It made him smile. Those eyes of his considered her dress, an earthy green that brought out the hazel in her eyes, warm against her tan skin. But he lingered on her face, full lips and long, dark lashes.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” he asked.

“Andréa,” she answered, and gestured to the pyramid of cue balls. “I’ll even let you go first, if I get your name.”

His smile deepened, and he leaned over beside her to line up his shot. He glanced over and found the challenge in her eyes was more than welcome.

“I’m Benny,” he said. He took the shot without looking at his target, breaking the pyramid and scattering cue balls across the table.

Back at the bar, your drink and your conversation were both bringing a pleasant buzz to your brain. You nodded along with the music when “Got a Hold on Me” by Christine McVie replaced Boston.

“You’re liftin’ me up,” she sang through the speakers. “Never let me down…and I smile whenever you’re around.”

Dean glanced at you with a small grin, shaking his head.

You couldn’t help but smile back. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he said. “I just didn’t expect to see someone like you here.”

Your brows furrowed. “Someone like me?”

He caught the look on your face, and his turned apologetic.

“Nah, I just mean…this doesn’t seem like your usual vibe,” he said.

You weren’t quite sure how to take that, but you eventually shrugged.

“To be honest, I don’t go out all that much,” you replied. “I like it here though. Good music, good drinks—”

“And good company, I hope,” Dean added in. You allowed that with a smile.

All the while, Christine kept singing.

“I’ve been down. I’ve been used. Now I know, I know, I know, I just can’t lose…”

“So did you guys like the cookies? Or did the Girl Scout thing put you off,” you teased. Dean’s lips quirked.

“Sweetheart, those delectables were gone by end of shift. I’m talking that afternoon. They were easily some of the best cookies I’ve ever tasted…I’m serious,” he said, when you became a bit bashful, and maybe disbelieving.

“I’m tellin’ you, if you had your own bakery, I’d be lining up every damn day,” he said. He then sent you a playfully suspicious look. “Matter of fact, you didn’t just buy those, did you?”

Your smiled warmed as you considered your half-empty glass. Your fingers traced the rim.

“Well, don’t laugh but…I actually went to culinary school,” you said. Dean’s brows rose high at the confession.

“Why would I laugh about that? That’s awesome!” he said. “Why didn’t you become a chef or something?”

Your gaze drifted downwards. “Well…let’s just say, life got in the way.”

His face dimmed a little at that. But you noticed, and you tried to perk up.

“So yes, sir. I baked all five dozen of those cookies with my own two hands,” you said more cheerfully. You raised waving fingers. “I’ve got the burns to prove it.”

You’d actually made a rookie move, trying to move one of the trays before it had sufficiently cooled down. It was bad enough that you had to apply some aloe last night.

Dean made a show of furrowing his brows, with playful concern.    

“Let me see,” he said. He straightened in his seat, acting more “Lieutenant Winchester” as he took your hands and examined your palms and fingers. You blushed, and you bit your lip against a smile as his larger hands handled yours with care.

He did notice the redness on your fingertips, and part of your right palm. He glanced up at you.

“Do they hurt?” he asked.

You blinked at the genuine note in his question.

“Oh, not really,” you said. But you smiled at the fractional raise of his brows. “Well, maybe they still sting a bit, but it’s nothing. I had worse in school, believe me.”

Dean hummed as he considered your hands. Your face heated up further as you tried to get a read on what he was thinking. Was he about to do the cheesy thing and kiss it better? (Though you probably wouldn’t mind, even if he did.)

Instead, Dean reached into his own glass and grabbed an ice cube. After shaking off some excess water droplets, he moved the ice against the pads of your fingers, then down the fading red mark on your palm.

“That feel better?” he asked.

If possible, your blush intensified as your insides warmed and melted like hot butter. It was a sweet, and seemingly earnest gesture that plucked at your heartstrings.

And that was how Dean Winchester got your number before “Got a Hold on Me” ended.

Andréa was still chatting away at the bar with Benny by the time you decided to call it a night. She understood why you wanted to get home, to check on your grandfather.

You saw a bit of disappointment in Dean’s eyes when you said you needed to go, but he graciously offered to walk you to your car. It was pretty late, after all, and you had more than one reason to agree as he stepped out with you into the night.

You didn’t know if it was the evening chill, or his presence burning beside you that made a small shiver run through you. But once the two of you reached your car, you hesitated and looked up at Dean. You realized that you were reluctant to end this, whatever it was.

He quirked a smile down at you and tucked a wily strand of hair behind your ear.

“It was good to see you,” he said.

“Likewise, Lieutenant,” you replied, with a teasing gleam in your eyes. His were drawn to your face, lowering to your lips.

“Can I see you again?” he asked.

Again, your face warmed. “I think I’d be okay with that.”

His smile grew with his huff of amusement.

“Okay, how about I pick you up tomorrow night?” he offered. “That’s, uh…if you don’t got any plans.”

Your heart was hammering in your chest. Play it cool, for the love of God. Just say yes.

You didn’t usually agree to let a man pick you up on the first date, but something about Dean felt intrinsically trustworthy. Maybe it was the fact that he’d already saved you once this week.

“Sure,” you agreed, sounding more casual than you felt. “What did you have in mind?”

Dean considered that with a thoughtful look.

“Tell you what, let me take you to dinner. Somewhere nice,” he said. His hand raised to thumb at your warm cheek. He couldn’t see your blush, but you were sure he could feel it.

“I like dinner,” you admitted. Though you immediately wanted to slap yourself. Idiot!

Dean just laughed, and your blush turned to one of embarrassment.

“All right. Something we can agree on,” he said in amusement. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Get home safe, okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, though you paused, looking up at the indecision on his face. His gaze roamed your face, once again falling to your lips. Nervousness trilled down your spine, though you didn’t know why.

Maybe you were just a coward, but you didn’t wait for him to decide. You just gave him one last smile before you turned from him, unlocking your car with a press of a button on your keys.

“Well, goodnight,” you told him. “See you tomorrow.”

He nodded, stepping back from you. “See you soon.”

Well, it was tomorrow. And you were trying not to freak the hell out.

“That’s it,” Andréa said. “That’s the one.”

You had her on FaceTime, with your phone propped up on your dresser as you raided your closet.

Your hair was pinned up, your makeup done, and now, she’d helped you find the right outfit—a dress in vibrant emerald green that hugged your curves and fell to about mid-thigh. You smoothed out the straps and twisted to see yourself in the mirror.

“Why’re you frowning. This is perfect!” Andréa said.

“I just…” You sighed, once again trying to tug up the neckline. It was a bit lower than you preferred, but if you remembered right, your friend had encouraged this purchase a while back.

“It isn’t too much, is it?” you asked.

“Not for a first date with a smokin’ hot firefighter, mind the pun,” Andréa teased. “You’re a knockout, babe. He won’t be able to pick up his tongue off the floor…but I’m sure you can find a place for him to put it.”

You spluttered laughing, even after you made a scandalized sound. “You’re ridiculous.”

Still, you knew you could always count on Andréa to hype you up. You appreciated that about her; she was confident without being petty or prideful. And while she never begrudged you for your more cautious approach to things, she did try to get you out of your comfortable shell when you needed it. This, apparently, was one of those times.

You chose a pair of black suede heels Dean hadn’t seen before, along with a few spritzes of perfume in strategic locations on your body.

“Okay, Dean��s supposed to get here at 8:00. Until then, regale me with more about your night with Captain Benjamin Lafitte,” you said, drawing out each word of the man’s name with a suggestive flourish.

Andréa gave a dreamy sigh. She smiled as she sat back against her headboard in bed.

“He was just so…” she trailed, like she was sorting through a collection of memories, savoring each one, all while trying to find a way to distill it all into a simple sentence. She had an artist’s mind, and so tended to romanticize. But you enjoyed the way she spun her stories.

“Earthy, and real, while still being charming,” she said. “I’m pretty sure he let me win the pool game. Which ordinarily would annoy the shit out of me, but when he offered to buy me another drink, I couldn’t say no, and…we talked until the bar closed.”

“Wow.” Your eyes widened as you made the finishing touches on your clipped up hair.

“Right? I’ve never had an experience like that with a perfect stranger,” she said. “I think…I think it was like, one of those connections you hear about, see on TV but never think it happens in real life. I’ll tell you, when we walked into the bar, his eyes were the first thing I saw. And they were the last thing I remember from that night, after he kissed me goodnight…well, more like made out against my car, but you get the idea.”

She smiled as her face became lost in thought. Meanwhile, you tried not to be envious that she’d had more courage than you.

“Are you going to see him again soon?” you asked. Andréa seemed to come back down to Earth at the question, meeting your gaze.

“I think so,” she said. “We’re trying to plan something for next week. He’s also a construction contractor.”

You nodded. “Yeah, Dean was telling me that a lot of them have part-time jobs when they’re not on shift.”

“Does he do anything on the side?” she asked.

“If I remember right, he said he fixes cars sometimes, but I’m not sure if he’s a certified mechanic,” you replied.

“Well, maybe he can spruce up your old-ass Toyota Camry. How long have you had that thing?” she asked.  

You scoffed. “Since college. And it was old then, since I got it used…I think I’ve racked up about 200,000 miles on it.”

Andréa grimaced. “Oh God. You really need a new car, before that thing breaks down on you.”

“That’s what I keep tellin’ her,” said Grandpa George. He appeared in the doorway with a mug of tea. He waved at Andréa on your phone screen. “Hey there, sweetheart.”

“Hey, George. What’re your plans this evening? Go-karting or roller blading?” she teased with a grin.

George matched it with a hearty laugh. Andréa was his favorite.

“Well, I think I’ll start at the roller disco and see where my heart takes me,” he replied. Though he had fond stars in his eyes, and you smiled, knowing what memory he was about to recall.

“Ah, my wife and I met at one of those cheesy-ass places in the ‘70s,” he said. “She was a regular there, had the knee-high socks, the shiny skirt, her long hair whipping around like a rope… I remember she skated past me and knocked me clean onto my ass. I watched her skate away, that little skirt swishing. I think I was half in love right there.”

Your heart twinged, both for yourself and for him, as you could see the sting of melancholy in his eyes. Your grandmother had passed away a few years ago, but it was still deeply painful for both of you.

George shook his head, as if clearing the ghosts of memory from his mind. He looked over at you with a fond smile.

“Well, don’t you look beautiful?” he said. And he reached out for your hand, playfully raising it above your head and twirling you around as you smiled. “Reminds me of when your grandma helped you get ready for the senior prom.”

You snorted at that. “You mean when she almost glued my eyes shut, trying to get those fake lashes on?”

You’d rather pluck out your own eyes than have to ever again go through the “de-gluing process,” as she’d called it.

“It’s a shame we don’t have any pictures of you that night,” George considered. A knowing smile crossed his face. “You looked adorable.”

“I looked like I had a wonky eye,” you retorted. “Why do you think I burned all the evidence?”

Andréa tried not to, but she chortled at your expense. You shot her a narrowed look.

“Careful,” she teased. “Don’t strain yourself, Wonky. You’ve got a better night than prom ahead of you.”

“Speaking of, when’s that boy supposed to pick you up?” George asked.

You let out a breath, slightly nervous as you checked the time on your phone.

“In about ten minutes.”

“Okay, for the third time,” Sam said, trying his best to be patient. He sat on Dean’s bed while the man stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He was debating the age-old question: tie, or no tie?

“Red wine goes with red meat. White wine goes with chicken and fish,” Sam reminded him. “If you get red, you want to order a bottle of merlot. It’s full bodied without being dry as hell.”

“Yeah, merlot with meat. Got it,” Dean nodded. “What’s white again?”

“Everything else,” Sam said, once again. “If you order white, I’d say go with a pinot grigio. It’s light, can be dry or can be fruity. It all depends on personal preference, but I really like—”

“Well, I’m probably getting steak, so no to pinot,” Dean said. He finally decided on no tie, just a black suit jacket over the dark blue shirt, with a couple of buttons left open at the top.

Sam sighed and gestured at his brother. “And what if she wants fish? What if she hates red wine?”

Dean frowned. “Right. Okay. Pinot or merlot, got it.”

“Always ask to try it first,” Sam added. “Or here’s a thought. You could just be yourself. Order a beer and let her get whatever she wants.”

His frown deepening, Dean shook his head and left his bathroom. He crossed his bedroom to find his shoes—the nice black ones he only wore for weddings and funerals.

“Nah. This girl’s classy, Sam. Can’t half-ass this,” he said. A bit of unease coiled in his stomach, but he tried his best to ignore it.

He couldn’t remember the last time he got nervous to meet a girl…maybe because he hadn’t gone out on an actual “dinner and conversation” date in a while.

Or at least, he didn’t think he could count his dates as real ones.

“You’ll be fine,” Sam said. He could see plainly what his brother didn’t want to admit, only because they knew each other so well.

Dean glanced over at Sam and flickered at a smile. He grabbed his keys, his wallet, and didn’t think he was missing anything…

“Dean,” Sam said. He nodded over at the bundle on the dresser. Dean reached for it and shot his brother a wink.

“Hold the fort, Sammy.”

His car rumbled to a stop in front of your house just a few minutes late. Dean took a moment to admire the nice-looking beige house with its dark trim, old but still in good condition. And he wondered if you had roommates, or if you lived alone. Maybe you even owned this place. 

He wasn’t sure, as he could only see one car in the driveway (your car, he recognized). He knew he’d need about two or three other roommates to be able to afford this two-story house. 

He straightened his collar and blew out a breath. Get it together, asshole. You’re going on a date, not running into a burning building.

Funny, he’d probably be less nervous with the latter.

You’re not nervous, he reminded himself. You like her, that’s all…yeah.

Rolling his eyes at himself, Dean turned off the car and grabbed his key out of the ignition on his way out. He walked up the red brick path up to the porch and knocked on your door.

His pulse picked up a bit when he heard a pair of heels approaching the door. Soon enough, it opened, and Dean was greeted with a sight. Namely your face, and a smile spreading across it.

Beautiful, he couldn’t help but think, as his gaze dipped to take in the rest of you. He liked the color of your pretty green dress, the soft and classy makeup, the goddamn sexy heels, and the way your hair was pinned up. (Even though it looked so soft, he wanted to see it loose.)

He liked it all, especially that you seemed happy to see him.

“Hey there,” you said, a little breathy, like you’d been hastening down the stairs.

Dean gave you a smile, along with the small bouquet of flowers he’d been hiding behind his back.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. His smile deepened when you uttered a gasp at the modest bundle of red tulips. “Feel like I should’a gone with something more impressive to match you. You look beautiful.”

You glanced up at him with a sweet smile, but you took the flowers and shook your head.

“No, these are gorgeous. I…can’t remember the last time someone gave me flowers,” you admitted.

It was a bit old-fashioned, but one of Dean’s earliest memories as a kid was seeing his dad come home, late from work as he so often was. But he’d stopped along the way at his mom’s favorite flower shop. He brought her red tulips rather than red roses.

Dean didn’t know why. Maybe that was her favorite flower, or maybe the roses were all out. In his memory though, his mom’s upset faded whenever she saw those flowers.    

“Thank you,” you said warmly, taking Dean out of his thoughts. He flashed you a smile touched with slight embarrassment. He drew a hand through his short hair at the back of his head.

“Well, uh, are you ready?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yep! Just need to grab my purse and put these in some water.”

You welcomed him inside the house while he waited for you to find a vase. Dean took the opportunity to look around from where he stood in the hall. It looked big on the outside, but inside, it looked like a cozy family home. He took in the wood furniture, a paisley couch in the living room, family pictures on the wall and in a China cabinet rather than actual fine China.

It didn’t exactly scream high-powered saleswoman, but maybe you’d inherited it from your family. Or you were going to have it fixed up before you sold it, like some Property Brothers-type action. Or he was reading too much into it entirely, and should just focus on the fact that you’d agreed to go out with him to begin with.

Dean perked up when you returned with your purse on your shoulder and the tulips in a vase, which you set down on the living room coffee table for now. You greeted him again with smile.

“I’ll find a better place for those later, just didn’t want to keep you waiting,” you said.

“You’re good,” he said. He offered you his hand, along with a grin. “I hope you’re hungry though. I know how much you like dinner.”

You giggled, ducking your head in embarrassment. You followed him out the front door.

“If we can forget about that tipsy foot-in-mouth moment, that’d be great,” you said. Dean shook his head.

“Sorry, my mind’s like a steel trap,” he teased, even as he led you down the few steps of your porch in your heels.

“Oh, really?” Your brow raised. “Okay, I’ll remember you said that.”

Dean smirked. “Uh oh. Why do I feel like that one’s gonna bite me in the ass someday?”

“We’ll see,” you replied in amusement. “Future dinners might be on the line here.”

Your eyes widened when you finally saw his car parked behind yours in the driveway. Big and black and sleek and Chevrolet.

“Wow. That’s your car?”

Dean shot you a grin that was somehow proud without being smug.

“You like her?” he asked. He unlocked the car and even opened the passenger side door for you.

Wow again. A rare gentleman. You smiled and obliged him by climbing in.

“I think I do,” you said. Dean got in on his side after closing your door. The doors creaked and the engine rumbled when he turned the ignition. He looked over at you in a way that made your insides both flutter and melt. Anticipation and warmth.

“Think she likes you too,” he said.

Shit, what did Sam say? Dean stared down the wine menu, which may as well have been a Chinese grocery list, for all he knew.

Red was what? What the hell is a Malbec? Sounds like a kind of fish. That can’t be red wine.

He discreetly raised his gaze above the menu. You were sitting there, pretty much perfect while you looked over the appetizer menu. This was an Italian restaurant. A nice one, and a cut above Dean’s usual dining spots. Neither of you had eaten here before, but you looked vastly more comfortable than he felt. 

“What sounds better to you, clams or bruschetta?” you asked. Your eyes flicked up to his thoughtfully. “You don’t strike me as a clammy kinda guy.”

A smile tugged at his lips. There was a “clam” joke in there somewhere, but he wasn’t sure you’d appreciate it.

“Bruschetta is the toast with little tomatoes, right?” he asked.

“Yep,” you nodded, but then your head tilted as you looked down at the menu again. “Or we could do meatballs. Comes with two—a ball each.”

You bit your lip over a smile, tinged with embarrassment, like you didn't realize what you were saying until you said it.

Dean smirked. Maybe your sense of humor was more in line with his than he expected.

“Well, I don’t typically go for balls, meaty or otherwise. But whatever you want, sweetheart,” he teased. Truth be told, he loved Italian meatballs, but right now, he liked your snort of amusement even more.   

By the time the server, Liam, came to the table, you seemed to know what you wanted, while Dean was still looking over the wine list like it was Calculus homework. 

“Would you like something to drink?” Liam asked.

Dean paused, unsure of how to respond. He glanced at you on reflex. You were waiting for him to say something, he knew. He just wasn’t sure what he could say that didn’t make him look like an idiot.

“I’ll have a glass of this Cabernet Sauvignon,” you replied to the server, and pointed out the name of the wine on the list. He nodded and wrote that down, then turned to Dean next.

“And for you, sir?” Liam asked.

Again, Dean had a conundrum.

He decided to play it safe. “I’ll have the same.”

You eyed him a moment, before you turned back to Liam.

“Can we try it first? See if we like it,” you said.

“Certainly,” he nodded. “Do you want to start with an appetizer?”

“Yes. The meatballs, please,” you replied, glancing at Dean with secret amusement. His lips hinted at a smirk.

When the server left to put in the order, you rested your elbows on the table and folded your hands under your chin.

“Something tells me you’re not big on wine,” you said.

Dean’s smile became more self-deprecating as he tapped a finger on the table.

“That obvious, huh? …Well, can’t say I didn’t try.”

“Dean Winchester.” Your head tilted as you considered him. “Are you trying to impress me?”

“Trying, maybe. Doubt I’m succeeding,” he admitted with a short laugh.

You let out a small sigh, but you didn’t look disappointed.

“I just want to get to know you,” you said. “You don’t have to woo me or anything.”

His brow rose in a subtle challenge. “What if you deserve a bit of wooing?”

You glanced down then, with a pretty blush beginning to warm your cheeks. He smiled at your demure.

“I get what you’re saying,” he inclined his head. “I just have a feeling the guys you go out with know how to order a bottle of wine, at least.”

You met his gaze at that. Your brows drew together, and it wasn’t until then that you realized what Dean seemed to be thinking. Like you were somehow better than him, or out of his league. While that was incredibly flattering (and downright surprising), it just wasn’t true, you felt.

You’d been nervous as hell up until this point, convinced that this man’s interest was half because he’d saved you. Because really, between the cut of that jaw, that smile, and those eyes, he could have anyone. And yet, he’d noticed you.

So now, you gained enough courage to reach across the table and rest your hand over his. It earned his attention.

“Look, Dean,” you said. “You don’t know anything about the kind of guys I go out with, so why don’t you just try to get to know me, instead of being whatever you think I want?”

There was a challenge in your eyes, but your smile softened it, along with your hand in his. Dean curled his fingers around your hand, and he nodded.

“That’s fair,” he said. His thumb drew across the back of your hand as he considered what you’d said. He realized he wasn’t being fair…

“See, women tend to like the firefighter thing, until they don’t,” he said. 

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well, after a little while, it’s like the shine wears off,” Dean admitted. “Between the long, sometimes inconsistent hours, the weight of the job… It’s either too much, or not enough, you know?”

As much as that disheartened you to hear, you kind of understood what he was saying. First responders led challenging lives, and you could imagine how hard it would be to maintain relationships—from family and friends to lovers. And when he met your eyes, you had a feeling you knew what he was really saying underneath.

It’s not enough…or he’s not enough?

You frowned and squeezed his hand.

“That must make it hard to find a real connection with someone,” you said.

Dean read the look in your eyes: sympathetic, but not pitying. He appreciated that, and you right now. But he was also getting a bit embarrassed. Good job, Mr. Overshare.

He let go of your hand just to lean back in his seat and card his fingers through his hair. He blew out a breath.

“Sorry. Don’t know why I’m saying all this crap,” he said with a chuckle.

You smiled and crossed your arms on the table. “It’s not crap.”

He gave you a wry smile.

This Dean is not what I expected, you thought. He was all panty-dropping smiles and one-liners, until he wasn’t. Behold, the softie underneath.

Liam soon returned with two glasses with a sample of the wine you’d requested. Dean took his glass, but waited a moment to watch you bring yours up to your face. You inhaled first before you took an experimental sip. You smiled and hummed at the taste. It led Dean to sip his as well.

He immediately made a face at the bitter, strong taste that razed across his tastebuds. He was used to the burn of alcohol, but this was just gross.

That’s when he caught that look on your face—a small smile as you gauged his reaction.

“Refreshing,” Dean quipped. And dry as hell.

“You want a beer instead?” you asked.

“Definitely,” Dean nodded, looking up at Liam. “Heineken, if you please.”

“That I can do.” The other man quirked a smile. “And for you, miss?”

You tapped on the rim of your wine glass. “A glass of this please. Thank you.”

“Absolutely,” Liam replied. “I’ll bring those shortly.”

Dean watched you with a smile. You caught him at it and smiled back questioningly.

“What?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Nothin’.”

He liked the way you carried yourself. Smart and classy, without being a snob. Confident and sexy at times, while shy and freakin’ adorable at others…

Damn, Dean thought. He liked you. He did.

And he didn’t want to admit it, but that kind of scared him.

AN: Hohoo, so believe it or not, this is just part 1 of the first date! The rest is to come in the next chapter. But how did you like this so far?

Next Time:

You watched him curiously as he shrugged out of his jacket. He wrapped it around your shoulders, like this was some kind of Hallmark moment.

Heh. Can’t believe Meg had it right, he thought, as he caught your blush.

“Thanks,” you said softly.

“Can’t let you catch cold in this little dress,” Dean reasoned.

He gently tugged you in closer by the ends of his jacket. Once again, his gaze was drawn to your face, your eyes, and finally your lips. You still held both ice cream cones between you two, but he could be careful enough to sample something else.

He started to lean in…

Keep Reading: PART 4

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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[intoxicated-chan]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖 ║ ❝𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐂𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐡❞

(A/n) ➳ I’m back at writing! I thank those who gave me advice that helped me with my writer’s block. Hopefully I can keep a schedule and I thank those who waited! Thank you all!  

Word Count ➳ 1.3k 

Content Warnings ➳ Alcohol use, drug trafficking, mentions of baby trapping, swearing, mentions of toxic friend group dynamic, threats of violence...  

JUDAS Masterlist

DARYL WAS PULLED IN A HUG WHILE ANOTHER MAN PATTED HIS BACK. 

Andrea brought the glass of cheap liquor to her lips as she eyed Daryl conversing with the group of men. She wouldn’t say he was friendly with them but seemed to be coworkers of some kind.  

“Are you seein’ this?” Andrea asked Amy who quickly agreed with her.  

Amy pulled her phone up to take a photo. “(Y/n)’s gotta see this-”  

Andrea snatched the phone out of her hands. “Jus’ cause he’s talkin’ to some guys doesn’t make it suspicious. You need hard evidence.”  

“Like what?”  

“Watch.”  

Andrea kept her distance as she maneuvered past people, nearly getting a drink spilled on her when she was pushed by a dancing couple. She blended into the background as she came closer to Daryl and his friends.  

She observed his interactions with the other patrons, noticing how he kept glancing around, as if he was expecting someone. He then leaned into a man, like a hug and passed something into his pocket and shook his hand.  

She could only see them whispering to each other until Daryl turned around at hand gasping his shoulder.  

It was Merle, he leaned in. “How much do you get this month?” He asked, taking the wad of cash from Daryl’s pocket.  

“Less, cops been ‘round.” Daryl again looked around. “And one might be pokin’ their nose where it don’ belong.”  

“I told you not to get involved with that woman.” Merle commented, counting the cash. “Look at you now.”  

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”  

Merle chuckled, putting the cash into his back pocket. “She ain’t gonna stay for you, tie ‘er down or somethin’. From the way you talk ‘bout her, she’d make a good mom.”  

“Ya can’t-” 

“Leah called again, need you for the next run.”  

“Did ya not hear me?”  

“The hell the cops gonna do? They got nothin’.” Merle laughed, ignoring Daryl. “The guy needs his money, some shit ‘bout his wife.” Rolling his eyes, he was annoyed, getting pushed to do more and more work while their boss gets most of their earnings.  

“He needs ‘em now?”  

Merle shrugged, coming to the bar and ordering a drink for them both. “Friday.” Two days from now. “You goin’ be meetin’ with her-” 

Daryl waved him off, remembering the place. It wasn’t like he was the one bringing the shipment to her every time Merle was ordered to do it himself. Daryl walked to the bar, easily drowning the shot given to him. 

He just needed to stick it out for a few more runs then he could be free. Free from his brother, free from this mess, he can finally go back to you without everything haunting his mind.  

“Another.” He demanded. He wasn’t going to be able to make home sober tonight. He huffed, taking out his phone. He pressed on your contact, bring the phone to his ear as he took his shot. It rang a few times before you answered.  

“Daryl? What is that sound?” 

“At some bar.” He responded. 

“Are you alright? You sound drunk- please don’t tell me you’re drunk.” 

“I’ll be drunk soon, darlin’.” 

He heard you sigh over the phone. “Send me your address, I’ll pick you up.”  

“Yer too kind.” He chuckled. 

“Jus’... Jus’ don’t drink too much.”  

“Yeah.” 

He threw his head back as he took the shot, groaning as the burning sensation went down his throat, clouding his mind as the more shots he took, the more the alcohol influenced him.  

What Daryl remembered was slumped over the bar and then pushed into a car that smelled fresh. Your voice filled his mind as you spoke to him to keep him awake. God, the way you took care of him made him relax.  

You sat in your recliner, legs crossed as you held a mug of coffee. You watched Daryl’s chest rise and fall, keeping close as it was becoming noon.  

He had passed out the second he hit your couch, and you were too worried about him to sleep so you stayed awake.  

Your phone had buzzed for the hundredth time for this day. It was a string of text messages coming from Shane, begging you to think twice about Daryl.  

You were disappointed in Shane. You knew he was rash, but you didn’t think he’d react this way when he was rejected.  

You have no idea what the hell you’re doing 

You could hear him say it, repeatedly. It played like a song that you wanted out of your head. It was annoying, frustrating, and somewhat depressing.  

“Ya should really block him.” Daryl’s hoarse voice made you snap your head up and see him awake. He rubbed his eyes as he grumbled. “That coffee?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Hand it over.” He weakly demanded, it made you laugh and hand it over with ease.  

“Glad to see you alive.” You got up, stretching your legs. “I was thinkin’ I might have to take you to the hospital with the number of shots you took.” 

“That’s what work does to ya.” He responded, taking a large gulp of the coffee as he slowly sat up. “Still haven’t answered ma question.”  

“Don’t worry about me, Dixon. I'll make some food for you.” 

“No, sit down.” 

“Daryl you’re hungover-” 

“Sit.” He pushed your throw pillow on the ground, having you sit next to him. “Ya don’ block ‘im ‘cause yer worried, ain’t ya?” 

“...I never seen him act like this before. Yes, I’m worried ‘bout him. He's texting me every minute!” You explained, feeling your chest tighten as your voice wavered. “Then Lori! And Rick! Who’s next? Carl?!”  

“It’s ‘cause of me.”  

“Please Daryl, it’s not you. It ain’t your fault.” You immediately reacted, grabbing his shoulders. “I jus’ realized that my place in that group wasn’t as a friend but a prop. They knew I didn’t have much around me and used it to their advantage. If I disagreed with someone then the rest turned against me. I'm better off with Amy, Andrea, and you.”  

“Yer gonna regret it.” 

“I can promise you now that I won’t.” You retorted. You then sighed, laying back. “Let’s stop talkin’ ‘bout this. I seriously need a smoke.” 

“I got some in ma bag.” Daryl looked around, his eyebrows furrowed when he didn’t see around him. 

“It’s in my car.” You replied, pushing yourself up to grab your shoes and keys. “Your brother was kind enough to get your ass in my car and bring your bike.” 

“Merle?”  

“Yeah, met him I pulled up. Why? Is something wrong?” 

“Nah. It’s nothing.” You nodded and left, leaving Daryl sitting on the couch.  

As he took another sip from the mug, Daryl’s phone rang. He glanced at his phone briefly but didn’t bother to check the caller ID as he flipped open his phone, assuming it was his brother. 

“Merle.” Daryl answered, rather annoyed.  

“Daryl, my man!” His voice boomed though the phone, all cocky and charming as usual. “How’s my favorite deliver boy doin’ today?” 

The voice on the other end wasn’t Merle’s. It was Negan Smith. Daryl’s heart dropped as he recognized him. 

His voice made Daryl’s stomach churn. If he remembered correctly, the delivery was for friday, tomorrow and any call from Negan was never good news.  

“What do ya want, Negan?” 

“There’s been a change of plans. We’ve got an emergency and I need the damn goods by midnight. Tonight.”  

“We had a deal-!”  

“Fuck the deal, Dixon.” Negan's tone shifted suddenly, becoming serious. “You’ve got until midnight. Don't make me come lookin’ for you. We all remember what happened last time you were late.” 

With that, Negan hung up, leaving Daryl staring at his phone in disbelief. He threw his phone and held the scream he wanted to let out, but he held his head in his hands.  

He had until midnight... Failure wasn’t an option. 

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.  

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⊰ Chapter 7 ⊰ » » YOU’RE HERE « « ⊰ Chapter 9 ⊰ 

[spoonfulofmilo]

Could you do fic for Andrea Stella with wife reader? It was Lando's first win and everyone was over the moon for him especially the Papaya's. She was disheartened about what happened to Oscar after his collision with Carlos but still happy for Lando. She was very happy with how everything turned out despite SC. Her husband deserves it after a great start for the season. Add anything you want to. Just something fluff and cute. Thanks!! :))

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

andrea stella x wife!reader

“Let’s FUCKING GOOOOO.”

Y/N helped by giving a massive hug with Andrea, and Zak as they jumped around the garage, screaming, almost becoming deaf from the engineers and mechanics screaming around her.

Lando had won a race.

Lando had won a motherfucking race.

She hovered around, trying to not get hit by the mechanics who were carrying Lando as they all yelled. She hovered around Oscar, trying to comfort him as he was ignored by the McLaren mechanics in favour of Lando.

“Hey, it’s one race out of the 100s that your very long career is gonna have. I’m gonna be honest, I have no idea why you and Carlos have beef, I’m gonna be honest, because I love the both of you, but don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, I’m fairly over it, y’know just celebrating Lando right now.”

Y/N patted his shoulder sympathetically.

Lando finally landed near them and embraced Oscar in a hug.

“Good job Oscar.”

“Who cares about that, you just won a race?”

Lando then embraced Y/N in a hug.

“OH MY GOD, WE WON!”

“YOU DID LANDO! YOU WON!”

Lando was almost immediately swept up by other riders and mechanics for everyone to congratulate him.

Y/N was similarly swept up by other mechanics all chanting and trying to remember the lyrics to their national anthem, until she finally ended up next to Zak and her husband.

“Hello Zak, congratulations! Are you now expected to get another tattoo for Lando?”

“Thank you, thank you. An awesome day, as we’d hoped. I am however really hoping that he’s not going to ask me to get that tattoo haha. Anyway, I’m sure you’re happy, you’ve got a happy husband back at the hotel room.”

Y/N tried to speak, trying to ignore Donald Trump’s bodyguards harshly putting into her.

“Hey, hey, I know Trump is important, but leave my wife alone.” Andrea harshly pushed back against the bodyguards, and put his arm around his wife. “Are you okay? I can get the mechanics to calm down a bit.”

“No you couldn’t. They’re too excited. But I’m okay. I’ve got you here.”

As the crowd around them butchered the British anthem, and Donald looked on in disdain, no one could care.

Because they had won.

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @pear-1206

[rickmymanrick]

one rule | chapter three |

[rick grimes x original female character slowburn]

summary: it's been a month since the complete collapse of civilization. when daphne and glenn realize this is their new way of life, they begin to strategize the best ways of survival. along with the new members of the group, they fall into a steady routine, until a one-sided fight breaks out and everything is knocked out of order.

notes: you'll hate me for this. sorry. also, daphne might seem a bit weak but we'll see her character grow and learn how to live in this new world as the book goes on. i gotta allow some room for growth.

A month later…

Daphne’s POV

The first two weeks were absolute hell.

It didn’t dawn on me just how accustomed we had all been to technology and conveniences until the first night. It was uncomfortable and terrifying, the heat creating a layer of sweat that made it hard to even breathe. Every noise made me jump and it took a while for me to get more than an hour of sleep most nights.

I felt even more horrible for Glenn who, for all the years I’d known him, slept like a log. But even he was struggling and it was mostly due to my constant tossing and turning.

On my worst nights, I usually liked to open the trunk of the Jeep and just sit, legs curled up against my chest and staring at the clear sky with my head on my arms. It’s amazing how many stars you could see now that there wasn’t much use for electricity. For those who had survived the initial outbreak, I assumed they were smart enough to figure out that light attracted the dead.

Glenn called them geeks, but we mostly agreed on walkers. Made them sound less goofy I guess.

During Glenn and Shane’s runs, they encountered some survivors and we’d slowly been adding to our group. Each person had something to offer thankfully — well, most of them at least — and though we were all complete strangers to each other, we were slowly but surely falling into a comfortable routine. This was life now; we had to accept it.

Glenn was out on a run now. The first time he had made his solo trip to the city, he had made the smart decision to do it while I was finally asleep (needless to say, it wiped out all my progress and now I woke up every half hour expecting him to be gone). But he survived and even more, he brought back things we didn’t think we’d ever see again.

Canned foods, appliances, blankets, mosquito spray. Too many things to even keep track of — thankfully, Lori was good at stock.

I would’ve gone with Glenn — I have a few times before — but he was more familiar with the city. Knew shortcuts and alleys I couldn’t even navigate in my wildest dreams. Unfortunately, I only slowed him down. So he mostly goes alone now, to my dissatisfaction.

”Grab me my beer. Hurry up!”

I clenched my jaw, picturing every single way I could knock Ed Peletier on his ass. I tried not to look up from my task, scrubbing my knife clean, to avoid an argument.

“The dead can move faster than that,” he snarled again. I saw his wife Carol rushing to bring him a lukewarm beer from my peripheral.

Him, Carol and their daughter Sophia were new additions to the group; Glenn found them maybe a week ago in the woods close to the interstate. 

It was clear from the day they were brought in they weren’t a happy family. There was tension; it almost felt as though one wrong move could inflict Ed’s rage on every single person in the camp. It wasn’t until the second day of their arrival that Shane had caught Ed being less than friendly towards his wife. It led to a nasty discussion, but Ed didn’t take it as far as I thought his peasized brain would. 

Even a vile man like him knew being with other people was the only chance at survival. It was unfortunate he used his time on this earth to be the shittiest man alive. 

I finally looked up when Carol crossed in front of me, a forced smile on her face, and her posture looked small. Despite not knowing her for long, my heart broke.

Carol approached her husband with the beer (the cooler and the alcohol being his only contributions towards this group in terms of supply searching) and stretched it out with a shaky hand.

Ed looked up with an easy smile. It was sinister. He didn’t thank her, instead brought his hand back and slapped her from the back as she walked away.

I automatically jumped up, disgusted and infuriated out of my mind. My feet were pulling me towards him before my brain could catch up.

”You fucking pig—!”

I had no idea how or when Shane had crossed the camp so quickly but his hand was wrapped around my arm firmly. He held me back, feet away from where Ed was now standing, sneering down at me with an amused glimmer in his eyes.

”Daphne—” gasped Carol, red in the face.

Shane’s hand held me back from acting on every murderous thought I’d had about him ever since he set foot on our terrain.

"You wanna know something, Ed," Shane spat the name like it was poison. "I don't see why you're here. It's thirteen against one. We can have you out on the street before you get the chance to pull your head outta your ass."

I noticed how Shane gave Merle Dixon, a survivor who had joined our camp with his brother Daryl weeks ago, a side-eye. 

"20 if you include the kids and jackass over there-"

Merle wasn't paying attention, too far away to hear the brewing conflict and probably too high to care. Just the sight of him made me angrier.

"Screw you and your little bitch too," grunted Ed, drinking his beer like it was a regular Tuesday night. I stiffened in anticipation, knowing Shane wouldn't let this one slide. Ed had said some pretty stupid shit since he's gotten here, but I could feel Shane's patience thin out each and every time. 

"You know what, man, I've been-" Shane chuckled strangely. He seemed to simmer down, smiling easily as he reached a hand out to Carol who stood nearby with another beer bottle on hand for when Ed finished his. I watched tensely as Carol reluctantly gave it to him. The confusion on her face was evident and I knew the pit in her stomach that must've formed if she thought Shane, our sort of guard dog, was actually about to make peace with her abuser. "I've been going about this wrong. You and I -- I guess we haven't been seeing eye to eye. It's tense, I get it, it's a new world now-"

Ed had been eyeing him distastefully, probably angered that he'd taken one of his beers, but as Shane kept talking, his guard began to come down, a pleased look in his eye as Shane fed him exactly what he wanted to hear. "To the new world," Ed said gruffly, clinking his bottle against Shane's.

A nauseous feeling arose as I watched the scene, but I liked to think I knew Shane fairly well and I wasn't an idiot. Anyone with eyes could see Shane had a little more than a soft spot for me. Was he actually going to let that comment slide? Because I sure as hell wasn't. My lip curled, ready to fire insult after insult at Ed but the words fell short as Shane moved unexpectedly. 

His bottle swung in the air faster than Ed's two brain cells could comprehend it, straight for the side of Ed's head, shattering loudly against the bone of his temple. A strangled noise left Ed, his big body stumbling to the side before falling with a loud thud. 

Carol had gasped, jumping back what seemed like a few feet but maybe I had just run forward as soon as the violence started, and little Sophia screamed, face red. Even with all the abuse, Ed was still the only father figure in her life, but it wasn't enough for me to stop Shane. 

Blood was seeping down the side of his face, gargled sounds leaving his mouth as he weakly tried to fight Shane off. I guess his large structure was the only thing giving him any strength at all- the force Shane had put into that bottle swing was enough to incapacitate anyone. It only got concerning when Shane didn't stop his assault even after Ed had fully given up, slumping unconscious on the floor. His fists kept crashing into Ed's face, red on the ground and on both of his hands and you could barely tell Ed's nose from his mouth. His entire face was swelling up rapidly and it was only when our lookout, Dale, came running along with the others that I snapped out of my stupor. 

One glance at Sophia was all I needed to rush forward and grab Shane's shoulders. 

"You're killing him!" yelled Dale, ramming the bottom of his rifle against the ground, face screwed up in a mixture of anger and disappointment. I gave two of the other survivors, the burliest of them, an exasperated look, struggling with Shane's relentless movement, unable to pull him off alone. 

The two came rushing forward, huffing as if it were the biggest inconvenience - and I supposed it was; no one was a fan of the abuser and in fact, if the sight of his mangled face wasn't so grotesque, I doubt anyone would be complaining. I wanted nothing more than to let Shane kill him, even though the thought made my stomach churn because I wasn't this murderous a month ago, but Sophia's cries were hard for me to ignore. Getting rid of Ed had to be done in secret, away from prying eyes and especially from Sophia's. As we pulled Shane off, I glanced over at Carol, out of breath and still shaking in fury, and she was not as shaken as her daughter was. In fact, I'd say that beneath that shocked expression, there was a glimmer of hope and satisfaction in her eyes. 

"Don't you let me hear you insult her again, you bastard!" Shane yelled as T-Dog and Morales, the two survivors, pulled him away by the arms. I stepped closer to Carol, debating whether I should even breathe in her direction.

”Ed,” gasped Carol quietly. “I—he—Soph-Sophia—”

”Carol, you’re going to be okay. You…” I glanced back at my tent. It was large enough for two more. If Glenn were here, he’d insist. “You two can stay with me.”

”He’s… he’s my husband, Daphne,” Carol said in a shaky voice, barely above a whisper. “I—I did this to him—”

”No, you listen to me. You didn’t do this. Shane did.” I glanced over to where Dale, T-Dog, and Morales were dragging Ed. Our little “med-bay station” under a small tarp with a stack of first aid kits. “And if he hadn’t, I would’ve.”

Carol didn’t say a word. She just clutched Sophia tighter. Even with her young ears latching onto my every word, I couldn’t find it in myself to take it back. I wanted her to know she had someone willing to fight for her and her mother. 

“He’s my husband.” Carol repeated a bit firmer this time. She looked more upset as she gazed at the med-tarp. I couldn’t tell if it was whatever care she had for the man or if it was because he was still breathing.

I knew my limits. All I could do was hope he wouldn’t lay another hand on them, because then I would have a murder to deal with.

Carol and Sophia walked away, probably to the med-tarp but I couldn’t bring myself to turn around. I was drenched in worry and sadness, for them. For their situation.

I felt the burning of a pair of eyes on me. I removed the hand shielding my eyes from the sun. Squinting against the brightness, I found Shane by the tree line, as far as he could get from Ed without abandoning the camp altogether. Other than the blood on his knuckles, he looked otherwise alright. No surprise though— Ed wasn’t able to lay a finger on him.

I walked over to him. He was still seething, his shoulders pulled back as if he were ready to send a punch flying. His lip was curled and he was now staring at the ground furiously.

”He needs to be sent away,” I said quietly. It was my turn to look at the ground, afraid to see the disgusted look on Shane’s face.

Murder was a line we hadn’t crossed yet. We don’t kill people — just the dead and any wildlife we need to consume… and that’s what it would be— exile was just as good as murder in the new world.

”I agree,” said Shane gruffly. “But- but what we’re building here. All of us—” he gestured at the group of twenty. “We need the numbers.”

”Ed doesn’t do a damn thing for the numbers—”

”Yeah, but Carol and Sophia do.” Shane sounded a bit disappointed as he said so. I couldn’t blame him— it would be much simpler if Ed wasn’t a manipulative bastard who had his family wrapped around his stubby finger. “That little girl is Carl’s best friend and Carol—”

”You don’t have to explain,” I sighed. “I get it.”

”I know you don’t like it. Hell, I don’t like it, but this isn’t forever, Daph. I promise—”

I didn’t mean to flinch away, but his hand reaching toward me, covered in fresh blood, with the nickname Glenn so often used for me— I was automatically moving away in discomfort. I made a promise to myself to toughen up. Like Glenn and Shane have.

A hurt look crossed Shane’s face. I quickly placed a hand on his arm, loosely clutching his elbow. The warmth of his skin grounded me.

“I’m sorry. I just…” I sighed. Shane’s eyes were glued on me intensely. “I want us to be safe. You, me, Lori, Carl, Glenn… every second he’s out there and I don’t hear his voice over this damn radio, I can’t breathe.”

His gaze followed my other hand, that wrapped around the walkie clipped to my belt, and it made me aware just how bad they were shaking. The tears welled up before I could help it. God, I wish I was stronger—

“Hey," Shane said in a demanding tone. I looked up through unshed tears. "He'll be okay. How many times has he not come back?"

I didn't answer, caught up in my thoughts about Glenn. Even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to make Shane understand. He was my best friend, the only person other than my parents that I'd ever cared about more than myself. In a world where there was nothing left but survivors, I couldn't lose him. 

"You're right," I said eventually, getting a grip. Crying wouldn't do me any good. The sun was slowly setting and he would be back any second now. He had to. 

"Damn right. In fact, there he is," boasted Shane. I turned around so fast I should've gotten whiplash. How did I miss the sound of the van pulling up the trail? I gave the thought less than a second of attention before rushing over to the driver's door. I pulled it open before Glenn could. 

"Woah, Daph," gasped Glenn, barely making it out of the van. I tackled him into a tight hug, gripping his shirt tightly. It was familiar, the feeling of his body and the sound of his voice. Relief flooded me like an icy bucket of water. 

"You asshole," I pulled away and smacked his chest. "What took you so long?"

Half of our group already crowded around the trunk of the car, taking whatever Glenn brought back to where Lori was waiting with her little inventory list. It was only a few crates full of small things, maybe three or four. 

We sat down by our pile of logs, unlit but everyone stared at them as if they were ablaze. It was silent, disappointment and a feeling of loss reeking in the air. 

“Hopefully, I’ll find more on the next run,” sighed Glenn, eyes stuck on the ground. 

”I’m coming with you,” I said firmly.

Glenn’s mouth opened in automatic protest. 

“I’m serious, Glenn. I don’t know the roads like you do but I’m fast. Faster than I used to be. I’ve been hunting in the woods with Shane—” who was currently shaking his head furiously, pacing with a frustrated look. “— and we could get more for the camp if there were two of us.”

”Even more with three,” drawled Merle Dixon from behind us. His little brother was nowhere in sight.

I spun around to glare at him. “I’m sorry. I think I missed the part where I invited you.”

”Lighten up sweetcheeks. You’d be hotter if you kept that mouth of yours busy doing something else.”

”Fuck you,” I spat. Merle smiled as if I gave him a compliment.

”No. No, no, absolutely not,” Glenn protested. 

I nodded fiercely. “I agree. Merle won’t be coming.”

”Neither will you. I don’t think this is a good idea. We’ve got a good thing going here. I bring any more people and we could mess that up,” he said exasperatedly.

”No offense Glenn, but the lack of supplies here isn’t a good thing,” Andrea Harrison said from across the circle.

“He’s trying,” I snapped before Glenn could even defend himself.

”We know that,” said Andrea quickly. “We'd just like to help out more.”

”Who’s we?” Glenn asked, sounding more and more frustrated by the second.

“Andrea, Morales, Jacqui, and I were talking… it doesn’t have to be every run. But the numbers could be better for you. We’d cover each other and get more supplies in one run,” explained T-Dog. 

“You were in on this?” Glenn asked quietly, giving me an exasperated look. I shook my head. This was news to me. Sure, Andrea had mentioned something to me about “picking up some harder shifts” around camp the other day, but I hadn’t thought much of it. I figured she was just going to go fishing more often with her sister or something.

”Glenn, like it or not, I’m coming. As for the others… you know the risks,” I gave them each a pointed look. At the end of the day, the others didn’t matter to me like Glenn did. I would make sure the two of us got home alive if shit were to hit the fan. 

They all quickly nodded in agreement. Glenn stared at them for a moment and then let out a hefty sigh. “Fine.”

There was a silence that fell over the camp. Shane was still seething, holding his knuckles to his mouth and glaring daggers at me.

”So,” Merle began. Everyone turned toward him with a glare. “When do we leave?”

”You’re not coming,” I scoffed.

”Sorry, sweetheart, but you could use an extra set of hands. I’m getting a lil too comfortable in this five star hotel, I’m in need of a little fire under my ass—”

”You sure it’s not drugs you’re in need of?” I rolled my eyes.

”Now that you mention it, I am running low. All the more reason I’ll be joining your little crew for the time being,” Merle said snarkily.

”This is gonna be a disaster,” groaned T-Dog, stomping away from the gathering. We all took it as a cue to disband, knowing there was nothing any of us could say that would keep Merle Fucking Dixon from joining us into the city tomorrow.

Glenn and I shared a worried glance. 

"It'll be fine," I tried to sound reassuring but I think it had the opposite effect. Glenn's face dropped even more and he trudged over to our tent without another word. 

I waited a moment, listening to the sounds of the insects that seem to come alive at night, and I stared at the sun that was slowly slipping beneath the horizon. Everyone had gone to their tents or were now sitting close to the small fire Lori had started. Jacqui, a sweet woman I'd talked to once or twice within the two weeks she'd been here, and Andrea sat close together, her little sister at her side as usual and T-Dog joined the circle too. Even Morales was sitting close by, his family surrounding him but he seemed engaged in whatever conversation they had going on. I furrowed my eyebrows in frustration or confusion... maybe both. They were surely discussing tomorrow's supply run and I tried not to be angry with them. It was obvious they wanted to contribute more and while the thought was appreciated, I'm not sure a larger group would do us any favors in a city that's infested with the dead. 

I dragged my gaze away from them, but not before Lori's eyes met mine and she gave me a weak smile. Carl was sitting beside her silently, staring at the burning embers with disinterest. I weakly smiled back and followed after Glenn's footsteps, mentally preparing for another restless night. 

Later that night, I was up long after everyone had fallen asleep, with my legs pressed against my chest and my chin resting against my knees on the back of the black jeep we’d stolen when all of this started.

My anxiety kept me awake as usual. After tossing and turning for a full hour, I’d resorted to my usual activity, stargazing. I laid down, thankful the roof of the jeep happened to be stored away from Shane's last water run. I let out a quiet sigh, feeling the tense muscles in my back forcefully relax. It was a bit painful letting my guard down because my body was so used to being alert.

 A sudden branch snapping sent me sitting up again, hand flying to the blade I kept in the sheath on my belt. 

"It's me," Shane said as he stepped into view. I let go of the knife and pulled my knees up to my chest again. I had nothing to say, knowing exactly what Shane was dying to discuss. It was the only reason he'd be joining me at this hour instead of patrolling the edge of the woods. The group alternated night shifts, Shane volunteering to take most of them, but it was supposed to be T-Dog's night. It wasn't out of the norm for Shane to take his place but I knew T-Dog must've been patrolling if Shane was here now.

He sat next to me silently, staring at the ground and clicking his tongue. I kept my head forward, staring at the outline of the city stubbornly. 

“I don’t approve of this,” Shane finally said quietly.

”And I’m not asking for permission,” I responded with a bit of a bite. I knew Shane was just concerned for my well-being, but it didn’t ease the pent-up frustration from the last few days. Between Ed’s arrival and Merle’s stupid little jabs at anyone who wasn’t what he considered superior, I was beyond over trying to remain civil. Maybe Shane didn’t deserve it, but I was done trying to please everybody.

”Since the moment the others arrived, we’ve been bending over backwards trying to make sure they’re fed, safe. Sure, some of them have earned their keep but others? Shane, we’re risking our lives every damn day.”

I felt horrible even saying this. But I needed to think beyond our natural instinct to protect anyone who was still alive. At the end of the day, this was about us. What used to be just Glenn and I become a group of five and I’m willing to admit I’d do just about anything to make sure we survived.

“I’m not going for them. I’m going for us. I’m not going to sit here while Glenn is out there every other day. If I can help him find even one children multivitamin pack, it's more than enough for me to try."

“Carl will be fine,” Shane said sternly.

”Maybe. But he’s a boy. He’s growing and we need him to be strong if he wants to survive—”

”I won’t let anything happen to him or you,” Shane cut in, looking more determined than I’d ever seen him.

“I appreciate that, Shane. I really do,” I placed my hands over his and he stared down at our contact, entranced almost. “But I can take care of myself. Or at least, I’ve gotta learn how to... I’ll be fine tomorrow. Glenn will be with me.” 

Shane tilted his head, straining the muscles of his neck. "That's... that's what I'm worried about..."

I rounded on him suddenly, pulling my hands away as if his skin burned me. "Glenn has proven time and time again he's more than capable of keeping this camp safe. He knows how to avoid the walkers--" I didn’t know why I was repeating this. Wasn’t he the one reassuring me of Glenn’s skills earlier? 

"But has he killed any?" Shane hissed. "The world ain't ever gonna be the same again and it's either kill or get killed, Daphne. See, me? I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty and do what needs to get done. Would he? Let's say you tear your bullet wound open and one of the walkers got their hands on you--"

"Then, I would be dead anyway," I cut him off fiercely. "Where the hell is all this coming from? I can't keep playing it safe while you're both risking your lives everyday for the rest of us. I was able to handle myself pretty damn well on the field--"

"That was then. This is now. This ain't like the field, Daph. We're not tracking down petty criminals, wearing our little bulletproof vests with backup around the corner. If I can't stop you then I need to know you'll be safe. I can't go with you, I can't leave Lori and Carl--"

"I wouldn't ask you to," I shook my head, feeling my temper rise to the back of my neck, bubbling as if I wanted to open my mouth wide and breathe fire. I looked away from Shane and stared at the dark outline of the skyscrapers against the moonlight. "Lori and Carl need you here."

Though reluctant, he nodded in agreement. "I...I just want to make sure you're okay. If I-if I can't stop you, at least take this with you. Please." He held out his handgun, safety on, but I could tell it was loaded. I eyed it for a long moment, knowing it was one of the few weapons we had to protect the camp. 

"Take it," he pressed one more time. Hastily, I took the gun before he could retract it. If it came down to it, I'd be grateful Shane gave me something to defend myself with. God knows what we'll encounter tomorrow. Even if Glenn was pretty much desensitized to the dead, I sure as hell wasn't. 

"Thanks," I muttered, turning the pistol over in my grip. It was a semi-auto pistol and almost always in Shane's hands. It didn't go past me the sacrifice he was making for my safety. "Thank you, Shane," I said more clearly, finally meeting his gaze. 

He was staring at me intensely, a bit closer than I expected him to be. His eyes were filled with worry and something similar to...to longing? I thought his crush on me had died the second our lives at the precinct did. 

I debated whether I should get up and put some distance between us or let whatever was gonna happen, happen. The rush of the last few weeks, the turn our lives took, it didn't give me the time or luxury to even feel lonely. And even if I did, even just for a second, I would catch a glimpse of Lori Grimes and her boy wherever they were in the camp, and the guilt would squash any of that loneliness away... Was it selfish for me to want attention from a lover when a mother and her son had just lost their husband and father so recently? And besides, it wasn't like I was dating anyone before the world fell apart, it had been some hookups here and there, and my embarrassingly huge crush on my coworker I interacted with once.

Add in the fact that the subject of my embarrassing crush was the husband and father of who I now considered family... 

I didn't let myself think about it... until now. I should feel horrible for letting Shane lean in slowly, especially since I had no strong feelings for him, just mindless lust driven by my loneliness and the fact that he cared so deeply for me didn't help. 

He was probably a breath away from me now. I could feel the warm puffs of air leave his mouth, fanning against my lips gently. The only thing I could hear was this, the chirps of the night, and my relentless thoughts badgering at my conscious.

Did I have any feelings for Shane? His hand slipped over the fabric of my jeans, resting on my thigh lightly and my eyes followed the movement. He's always been so attentive... so adamant in keeping us safe... keeping me his priority. My head started to feel light and I allowed my eyes to shut... my head to tilt up the slightest bit...

Our noses brushed lightly and his mouth was on mine, a shuttering puff of air escaping his nostrils. He was nervous; I wasn't. In fact, I wasn't feeling anything. It was mindless, chasing the movement of his lips because it was familiar and nostalgic. It reminded me of before...

I'm not sure Shane would've ever pulled away, his other hand had even slipped under my jaw, tangling in the curls behind my ear with passion. But my brain finally caught up with my body and I felt too guilty for leading him on. It was obvious he had feelings for me and if I even wanted to pursue anything with him, I couldn't do it under a pretense. Under a guise.

"Shane," I mumbled against his lips, trying to pull away gently. He hummed back, pulling me closer and trying to slip his tongue into my mouth. I pushed against his chest firmly and it seemed to snap him out of his daze, his mouth pulling away from mine slowly. Like he wished he could be this close forever. An unpleasant feeling settled in my stomach.

"I'm.." I looked down at his heaving chest, my hand resting against it. I could feel his hair brushing against my ear as he tried to duck his head and meet my eye. "I shouldn't have let that happen," I whispered, afraid to shatter whatever we had here, for his sake. "I'm sorry-"

"You don't mean that," he rumbled against my hand. "Almost three goddamn years... you finally said yes."

"To dinner," I shook my head and looked up at him. He was still too damn close. I pulled my hand away. It sounded ridiculous, discussing things from before. A fucking cancelled date of all things.

Shane looked like he was at a loss for words. "You don't mean that," he repeated with a sudden guarded look. 

It dawned on me how serious he was. How did I not realize this sooner?

Shane didn't scare me, but his commitment did. Almost three goddamn years. You finally said yes. 

"I'm sorry." It was the only thing I could think to say. 

Shane stared at me as if I'd spoken a different language and I shifted uncomfortably, my cheeks stinging with shame. And without another word, he got up and walked around the jeep. I stood to watch him stomp over to T-Dog and they switched shifts. T-Dog looked surprised to see me but waved as he walked over to his tent tiredly. I forced a small smile, not that he could see it from this distance, and waved back weakly. I was suddenly quite glad I was leaving tomorrow and set off for my tent with a newfound eagerness to fall asleep and wake up to a new day. If I was lucky, we'd leave before Shane could wake up from his morning nap. 

I spared him one more glance, seeing his body turned toward me and the faint outline of his head shaking from side to side. 

Guilt stabbed at my stomach for the rest of the night. 

next chapter…

[final-girl96]

Broken World: Chapter Twenty-Four

It's been a couple days since we showed up at the farm. Carl was doing a little better than he had been. Rick was now free to organize a search party for Sophia. He had given Carl three transfusions of blood since he was a match. Some of us had gone out into the woods after the memorial we had for Otis. Maggie, Hershel's eldest daughter brought us a map of the property and the surrounding area. Daryl had found an old farmhouse, but didn't find anyone in it. He did, however, find a small closet with blankets and pillows. He said it was only big enough for a child to skip into and it looked like someone had been there fairly recently.

Daryl posted towards the map, “I'm going to barrow a horse and ride along here. Chances are she'll be by the water. It's her only landmark.” Rick nodded, “Alright. Take yn with you.” Daryl and I looked at him in confusion. “I don't need her slowin’ me down. I'm better off on my own.” Ouch. “You two are the best trackers we got. I want you to stick together and look together.” Rick gave no room for argument. Daryl trudged off towards the stables with a huff and I gave Rick a look. “Don't look at me like that. I don't know what's going on between you two but you need to put it aside.”

I rolled my eyes and followed after Daryl. I found him in the stable saddling one of the horses. “Do you even know how to ride a horse?” I asked. I got no answer though which isn't anything new. “Right.” When he was done he got up onto the horse and reached a hand out. “Ya comin’ or what?” He grumbled. Without taking his hand I hopped up onto the horse behind him. I placed my hands lightly on his waist to keep myself steady when the horse galloped out of the barn, across the field, and into the woods. I could feel how tense Daryl was under my fingertips.

We went back to the house that he had found the other day and got off. Daryl tied the horse to a tree branch, making sure she could get herself free if walkers came stumbling towards her. “This the farmhouse you were talking about?” I asked. He answered me with a grunt and I held back the urge to roll my eyes. It was like trying to talk to a damn caveman. Each grunt meant different things and it was your job to understand what each grunt meant. Luckily for me I spoke caveman Daryl.

“Right…can you show me that cupboard found?” Another grunt was my answer and he walked towards the door. We did a quick sweep before he took me to the kitchen. The was a small cupboard that was meant to be a pantry from I'm assuming. It had four shelves and under the last one was a small space just big enough for a small child like Sophia to squeeze into. “Found a can of sardines in the trash too. It smelled fresh so I had to have been open that day at some point.”

I stood up and looked around the kitchen. Behind where Daryl was, there was an archway that led to a mudroom and a back door. I stepped around him, walked into the small space, and out the backdoor. “She could have heard you coming and got spooked. Might have not realized it was one of us. If she fled, she would have gone out this door and back into the woods,” I said. Daryl was standing beside me in the yard out back of the house. “The creek ain't far from here. She might have gone that way or came from that way. It's the only landmark she got.”

We headed back around front, mounted the horse, and headed for the creek. We followed a well traveled foot trail that looked down over an embankment. At the bottom of it was the creek. Daryl slowly walked the horse along the trail, looking out for any signs of Sophia. I was looking down at The creek bed when I spotted something in the shallow water. “Hold up, what Is that?” I asked, pointing down to the object.

Daryl stopped and we dismounted. “Stay here, I'm goin’ down to see what it is.” I took the reins from him and watched as he slowly descended the embankment. At the bottom he walked through the water and picked something up. “Hey! that little girl had a doll, right?” He hollered up to me. He held a little doll up that wore a pink dress. “That's hers! That's Sophia's doll!” I called down to him.

We found something! That had to mean she wasn't too far from here, right? Even though after forty-eight hours you're usually looking for a body. But that isn't always the case either. There is still a chance, and finding Sophia's doll, and that small cupboard in the farmhouse gives me hope that we'll find her. Daryl walked back up to the trail and handed me the doll. “Yeah, it's hers,” I confirmed. He looked around us, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Sophia!”

“Come on, we'll go back and tell Rick. The more people we have out here the better,” I told him. He hummed, “Look around this area for a little first then we’ll head back.” He mounted the horse and before I could get up behind him she got spooked, bucking Daryl off. “Daryl!” I yelled, watching him get thrown and roll down the embankment into the creek below. “Oh, my god!” I quickly made my way to the edge and started to ease myself down, holding onto the roots of trees, to help keep myself from falling.

Halfway down, I lost my footing and skidded the rest of the way down, falling and rolling towards the bottom. My head smacked into a rock, sending sparks of pain through my skull. “Fuck!” I blinked several times trying to clear the black spots obscuring my vision. Rolling over onto my hands and knees I made my way to Daryl. “Daryl!” I rolled him over and pulled him out of the water. His eyes blinked open and a groan of pain left his lips. “Oh, my god, are you okay?” I helped him stand up and when he did I gasped. “Shit, Daryl.” He hummed and looked around us searching for a crossbow. The only bolt he had left was now pierced through his side.

[retnym]

Precious Honor - Daryl Dixon .01

"What are your people doing to fix this?"

“Shane, we gotta hurry.” I held onto my camouflage jacket. I had just gotten off of deployment before the disease broke out. Shane the one I was just rushing is my younger brother. Well by two years. We’re currently going to see if Rick has woken up yet. He’s been in a coma for a minute now from when he got shot by a criminal that he was chasing. Rick is our childhood best friend. Mainly Shane’s but we had gotten quite close before the coma. He was the only one who sent me letters on deployment. 

Updates about him, his wife, and his child Carl. Rarely spoke about Shane most likely because he’s been whoring around town from what Lori told me. 

Shaking my head at the thought we got through the endless Hospital halls, nurses and doctors saluting me as I was still partly in uniform. Wearing cargo pants, boots, and a white shirt tucked into the pants. My jacket was still in my arms as we finally were in the room where he was.

Where he lay still, not moving an inch from the last time we saw him. My heart ached at the thought. We sat down to visit only for a few minutes, it was clear we couldn’t get him up. Then the ground shook and gunshots cleared out, I quickly gripped my holster. We both shot up. “Check his pulse.” I point with my head, pulling my gun out and pointing towards the door. 

My brother did as I said and I opened the door after the military ran by. 

What the fuck are they doing killing innocent?

“Let’s go, [Name].” Shane grips my hand, going to pull me to run but I push back. “We can’t leave without em’!” I say a little bit above a whisper. “His heartbeat, it was going before the machines cut off!” I told him. 

“Well, he ain’t got one now, [Name].” He harshly tells me back, now shoving me to get a move on and I drop my jacket. Before I could say anything he barricaded the door and we started running. Tears threatened to escape my eyes but things like this happened almost every day in the Army. This wasn’t like the Army though.

We’re going up against monsters who were once friends, neighbors, family… Leaving loved ones behind because the human race isn’t the same anymore.

We got back to my truck, and my dog Mori sat calmly in the back seat since the air was still going on him. I thrashed my key into the hole and started up the engine. “Let’s go, [Name]. C’mon.” Shane smacked my dash. “Don’t rush me,” I mutter, changing gears and slamming on the gas pedal causing him and Mori to fall back in their seats. Mori makes a noise as if to tell me off as Shane grunts. 

I swerved through the people acting all frantic, the town all evacuating or fighting off one of those… things. It’s like their skin immediately rots after being bit. It only takes hours. I’ve seen it. It’s not normal! None of this is!

“[Name]! Watch out!” Shane takes my wheel, steering it around a girl laying on the ground waiting to be run over. Sorry, lady. Gotta get someone else to do that. “Sorry!” I shouted at Shane, making a sharp turn onto Lori’s grass, blocking the door off so we can throw some things into my truck bed. 

“Stay, Mori!” I snap at him and he sits up straight as a “he’s listening to my order”. Mori is a Military dog, he sniffed out the bombs or certain things we needed to find. Very well trained too. Obviously, dogs have to be very well trained in the Military.  

“Oh thank god, you’re… he didn’t wake up?” Her face paled as I look away. Shane nods his head. I was expecting her to cry but she stood straighter. “We packed up everything.” She points to the suitcases and regular bags. Two had supplies we actually needed like food, water, and medicine. Four of them were clothes and as unfortunate as it is we can’t bring all of the clothes. 

“I’m sorry to tell you this Lori but you’re going to have to minimalize your clothes.” I sigh out, heading to the attic I grab the latch from above and bring it down. “What, why?” She questions me. “This isn’t a vacation we’re going to be moved left and right. We might have to run.” I explain to her, going up the steps of the ladder. “Oh..” She whispers.

Shane went to Lori and Rick’s room, most likely to check for guns Rick usually had in a safe. Immediately as I was up in the attic there were three tents. I quickly grabbed all of them, throwing them down as well. If we lose one it’s okay. Or if we lose two, as long as we have one it’s fine. 

Shane came out with a small duffle bag and we hurried to my truck which was still running, along with Mori who sat straight up looking menacing. Being a muscle-top Rott Weiler I’d hope he was scary looking to people. 

“Mori!” Carl says a little loudly, instantly getting shushed by his mother. They hopped into the vehicle as Shane and I put everything in the truck bed that already had some survivalist-type things in it. There are a few cots in the truck bed already. 

“Everything fits nicely, let’s go.” Shane claps his hands, heads to the passenger side and I get right back to driving. Not even buckling up I reverse and then speed to Atlanta Georgia. Lori tries to hide Carl from it all, giving him a comic book that she actually told him not to bring but took just in case. 

Of course, it doesn’t help him from glancing up and seeing the horrors we have to pass by. 

Getting onto the highway, right away there was traffic. Lined all the way to the buildings. My gut is telling me to leave. Slowly we moved our way down further but then it was just a full stop. We didn’t move for minutes to hours.

After the first thirty minutes, everyone mostly got out and we kind of mingled. Meeting a nice lady to the right of us. She and her daughter we gentle and nice, Carl made friends with the girl. They got to eat some snacks that the lady gave them. Her name is Carol. Her husband who we learned his name is Ed. 

Off the bat, this guy is a dickhead. Once he saw I looked like a Military he stopped and stared at me. “What are your people doing to fix this?” He points at me and my eyes squinted slightly. “I don’t have a connection with them anymore.” I crossed my tatted arms, blatantly showing off my muscles as a hint to fuck off. 

Unfortunately, that did not work. 

“Why’s that?” He laughed.

“None of your fucking business.” I sarcastically laughed in response, he obviously did not like that. “C’mon, Carol. Get in the car. You too Sophia.” He orders them, at first, they hesitated but once he shouted they both flinched. Carol sweetly smiled at us. “Sorry about him, maybe we will be in the same area.” She tilts her head, grabbing Sophia’s hand to help her off my truck bed. The two got into the car and instantly Ed was yelling at the both of them. As much as I wanted to step in I knew it wasn’t my place just yet. 

As time passed we ended up meeting others. Sisters named Andrea and Amy, they were already with a man named Dale. Later through the night, there was a girl named Jacqui. She was amazing. It was going pretty smoothly until the Dixon brothers showed up. 

The older brother repeatedly flirted with me. Being heavily misogynistic since I was in the Army. Asking questions like; “Yer sure pretty, ‘m sure you was passed around huh? Gangbanged by yer comrades.” Or “Climbin’ up the ranks? You mean blowin’ the ranks?” All with a stupid ass laugh. His brother on the other hand was quiet. He looked like he wanted to shut his brother up but instead didn’t do anything.

I observed him as he did anything. Going from picking at his nails to rolling his eyes at his older brother as he spoke to anybody. Physically trying not to cringe with every word that came out of his mouth. I honestly felt bad for him. Once we get to a safe space I might get him talkin’. 

This was when we decided to get out of the traffic and go someplace else. The infected started reaching the traffic, we all knew it was a matter of time before they came to the crowded place. Jacqui ended up leaving her car and getting into my truck bed along with Daryl and Merle since their truck broke down. The blonde sisters got into the RV with Dale. Who we didn’t meet was the Asian kid in Dale’s RV as well. 

This is the beginning of our story as a family. Sadly without Rick to be there with us. 

[tpwk-formula1]

hii can i order a sicilian crust with red sauce with sausage, olives, roasted artichokes, spinach, salami, buratta, rossted asparagus. with water and some sprite. no dessert. served by ollie bearman and kimi antonelli 🫡 if its not too much, thank youuu💓💓💓

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

sicilian crust dating red sauce rough sex sausage "Better not waste a drop" olives "Swallow every last bit. NOW!" roasted artichokes “im gonna put a baby in you” spinach "Awe I love to know I stretched you out just enough to take all my cock" salami "Such a little cum slut" burrata "How many was that? three... I think you can give me another" roasted asparagus "Stop trying to get away. Just be a good girl and take it" water breeding kink sprite size kink dessert no served by Kimi and Ollie

Kimi x Ollie x reader

AN - Okay so I did age the boys up just a bit just so they're already in F1 full time! This is their 2nd or 3rd season, that parts not too important.

TW - breeding kink, lots of creampies, multiple orgasms, slight MxM (kissing)

WC 1800+

Y/N POV

"Kimi I need you and Ollie please," I whisper against my boyfriend's ear as we sit next to each other while we eat dinner with some of the grid after the first race of the new season.

"Okay, we'll head home soon. I think it's starting to wrap up," Kimi responds while leaning down to kiss the side of my head softly. Ollie's hand is still on my thigh on the other side teasing me making everything more difficult.

"Ollie, please stop, I can't take it anymore," I whisper into my other boyfriend's ear.

"We're almost done, you can handle a few more minutes of teasing. Have we spoiled you so much you can't even handle being teased anymore?" Ollie questions with a raised brow making me whine softly and shake my head no even though truth be told Kimi and Ollie had spoiled me over the years making it more difficult to sit through their teasing touches.

When we finally left we get into the car and I sit in the back with Kimi while Ollie was driving us back.

"Can I please kiss Kimi?" I ask Ollie knowing I need permission for both men before I can't do anything. Ollie looks at us through the rear view mirror before giving us a little nod.

"Please," I whisper to Kimi making him smile and pull me in for a kiss.

"Fuck, taste like that expensive wine Carmen kept serving you," Kimi groans against my lips referring to the wine his teammate's girlfriend and I had been sharing all night.

"I need you in me please," I whine against his lips making him laugh and shake his head.

"Soon enough, amour," Kimi tells me as we pull up to the Monaco apartment.

When we finally get into the apartment Ollie is pulling me in almost instantly and placing his lips on mine.

“I'm gonna put a baby in you tonight," Ollie groans against my lips while his hands trail down to my waist where he pulls me in closer letting me feel how hard he is through his brown slacks he had worn to dinner tonight.

"Ollie please, need you so bad. Need both of you so bad," I whimper against his lips.

"We'll take care of you, patience pretty girl," Ollie replies back before picking me up and letting my legs wrap around his waist so he can carry me into our room where he drops me on the bed and Kimi is on me within seconds. Kimi had already stripped down into just his boxers so I was able to run my nails over his bare shoulders.

"Fuck, been thinking about fucking you all night," Kimi groans against my lips as Ollie strips out of his clothes just left in a pair of boxers. Kimi makes quick work of pulling my dress off leaving me in just my bra and panties which are both gone within moments. Once I was completely bare under Kimi Ollie climbs into the bed and angles my head to take his length into my mouth while Kimi brings his mouth down to my clit making me moan around Ollie's cock.

"Fuck," Ollie groans when I start bobbing my head the best I can. Ollie can tell I was struggling which had him getting up onto his knees and then flipping my body over which had me on my hands and knees for both the men. I waste no time in taking Ollie back into my mouth while he grips into my hair and starts face fucking me making me choke on gags and moans while Kimi continues to eat me out.

I'm so lost in pleasuring Ollie I don't even notice Kimi had stopped pleasuring my pussy until he's pushing his massive length deep into my pussy.

"Oh fuck," I moan loudly around Ollie's cock making him hiss at the added vibration before pulling me off his cock to let me adjust to the new sensations coursing through my body.

"Fuck," I moan loudly before bringing my face back down to Ollie's cock and letting him start thrusting back into my mouth.

"Fanculo," Kimi grunts in Italian making me clench around him loving to hear him speak his native language.

"l- I'm not gonna last long," Kimi grunts out as his hips start to falter slightly.

"Fuck, fill her up," Ollie grunts holding himself back from unloading his cum into my mouth.

"Fuck," Kimi grunts as his thrusts start to slow down slightly before he sends on final thrust deep into my pussy before unleashing a hot load deep into my pussy making me whimper when I feel his cum hitting the gummy walls of my tight pussy.

"Fuck, she didn't finish," Kimi says clearly upset.

"She's holding back, I can tell. Finger her until she cums," Ollie tells Kimi while I still have my mouth stuffed with Ollie's cock which is quickly removed when I start screaming due to Kimi's fast and relentless fingers fucking into me.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," I cry out when I feel the orgasm I had wanted all night finally unleash.

"Fuck," I cry again when I feel myself start squirting all over Kimi's fingers having a double orgasm.

"Fuck, she cums so well for you," Ollie grunts while pulling Kimi in for a quick kiss while they trade places.

"Fuck, Ollie," I moan when Ollie slips deep into my pussy giving me no time to adjust to his size. Ollie was bigger than Kimi, not that Kimi was small by any means but when Ollie pushes into me even after Kimi has fucked me I can still feel the burn of being stretched out.

"Awe I love to know I stretched you out just enough to take all my cock," Ollie grunts out while thrusting his hips into mine.

Kimi is sitting in front of me letting me rest my head on his thigh while Ollie continues to fuck into me.

"Fuck, Oliver," I moan loudly which has Kimi looking down at me with a smirk knowing I only called them their full names when I was mad or so lost in pleasure I could barely think.

"She's so fucking blissed out right now," Kimi says with a smirk while softly stroking my face with his finger.

"I'm gonna cum again," I whisper softly through moans.

"Cum for Ollie," Kimi tells me softly while Ollie speeds up his thrusts.

"Fuck," I cry when my third orgasm hits me almost making me collapse onto the bed but Ollie holds me up by my hips.

"Get Kimi hard again," Ollie grunts clearly getting close to his orgasm.

"Don't fucking cum Kimi, we're filling her up tonight," Ollie grunts which quick has Kimi taking my hair into his hands before leaning down slightly and spitting into my open mouth.

"Swallow every last bit. NOW!" Kimi grunts roughly making me swallow instantly before his length was shoved into my mouth making me whimper while I feel Ollie's hips shudder slightly before unleashing another load into my abused pussy.

"She's so good for us," Kimi grunts as I work my mouth on his hardening length. I feel Ollie slowly slipping his cock out of my pussy before sending down a harsh slap on my ass making me jump and whimper at the sudden pain.

"Better not waste a drop," Ollie says while shoving his fingers into my pussy and pushing his and Kimi's cum back into my pussy making me whimper at how rough he is being. "Such a little cum slut," Ollie adds making me whimper when I feel his fingers graze my swollen G-spot.

"You ready for her Kimi?" Ollie asks softly while making his way over to where Kimi was currently fucking my mouth.

"Fanculo, ya," Kimi grunts while pulling me off his cock and moving behind me while Ollie takes Kimi's place once again.

"Doing so well for us tonight, been such a good girl," Ollie tells me before leaning down and kissing me softly before he sits down in front of me.

"Fuck Kimi," I moan while trying to crawl away just from feeling the tip of his cock pushing into me.

"Too much," I cry as he pulls me back onto his cock.

"Stop trying to get away. Just be a good girl and take it," Kimi grunts while starting to fuck into my overstimulated pussy.

"Fuck," I cry when I feel another orgasm start to build again.

"I'm gonna cum," I moan loudly which has Kimi speeding up his thrusts pulling another squirting orgasm out of me.

"Fuck," I cry out while still cumming all over Kimi's cock.

"Fanculo," Kimi grunts one last time before thrusting one final time and cumming deep into my pussy again.

"I can't doing anymore please," I say softly while letting my body collapse against the mattress.

"How many was that? three... I think we're gonna give you another" Ollie says softly while Kimi picks up my body and turns me around so Ollie can take me in missionary.

"How are you going again," I ask more stunned he was ready to go again.

"Watching you cum for us is the easier turn on possible," Ollie whispers against my lips before placing a kiss on them then moving to Kimi and placing a softly kiss on his lips.

I'm sitting in Kimi's outstretched legs relaxing my back against his chest while his arms are wrapped around my hips in a soothing comfort.

"Can we give you one more love?" Ollie asks being serious knowing my body was exhausted.

"No more after," I state sternly looking up at Ollie making him smile and nod.

"No more, but fuck we wanna see you swell with our babies," Ollie replies back making me smile softly.

"Oh Ollie," I moan when I feel the tip of his cock slip into my overused pussy. Being as sensitive as I was Ollie stretching me out right now is extremely overwhelming but I would be lying if I said I didn't love it when they got like this.

"Fuck," Ollie grunts as he starts thrusting into my pussy making me whimper at the overstimulation.

I feel Kimi bring his fingers down to my clit giving them a gentle rub making me scream out and instantly start cumming all over Ollie's cock.

"Fuck, I forgot how sensitive she was," Kimi says moving his fingers away not wanting to make the pleasure too much.

"Hold me please," I cry out making Kimi instantly tighten his grip around my waist knowing I need help staying grounded.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," Ollie grunts leaning down and kissing me as he unleashes another massive load deep into my pussy.

"Please no more," I cry out again turning my body into Kimi's chest letting him pull me up into his lap so I can cuddle into his chest.

"We're done, did so good for us," Kimi whispers against my head before moving me to look up at him as he places a soft kiss on my lips.

[lildavewrites]

Pumpkin Carving | Kimi Antonelli

requested? : yes!! ‘Heyyy. I had an ideas for spooktober. soooo maybe kimi or ollie with the reader and they need to carve a pumpkin (for a prema video for example) and both of them are just really bad at it and keep goofing around. Just like a little drabble. Thank youu <3’

summary : when you and kimi are paired together to carve a pumpkin for a prema video, things get a little out of hand

disclaimers : second pov (you/your), implied driver!reader, google translated italian

word count : 0.8k

a/n : thank you for the request! I am so sorry for the long wait, but I really loved this idea!! had a lot of fun writing this one!

“Oh you guys picked a bad pairing,” you said as you looked out at the Prema marketing team, who were adjusting the lighting and messing with the settings on the camera. On the table in front of you were two small pumpkins and a few different knives and spoons to use to carve them.

“No, we’re going to do great,” the curly-haired boy spoke from beside you, gently nudging your shoulder. You turned your head, giving him a doubtful look, which only generated laughs from behind the camera.

“Okay, you can start whenever,” a female voice from behind the camera told you, and so you two quickly went through introducing yourselves and what you guys were doing.

You started with grabbing one of the tiny carving knives, and pulling the small pumpkin closer, trying to carve around the stem so you could empty the inside, but it was proving to be a bit difficult. You glanced over to see Kimi on the same step as you, struggling to get the knife through the pumpkin. At one point, as you had nearly gotten the top off, Kimi began trying a new tactic of repeatedly stabbing the top of the pumpkin.

“Oh my god,” you exclaimed, scooting your chair further away from him. “You are about to lose knife privileges,” you added, watching with wide eyes as he absolutely murdered the top of the pumpkin. He somehow was able to take the top off though, and then turned to you with a smirk.

“See? My idea worked,” Kimi said, before his eyebrows furrowed together seeing you had moved to the very end of the table. “What are you doing over there? You're going to be out of frame,” he said, laughing as he reached over and pulled your chair back to where it was before.

“I do not want to be this close to you,” you said with a laugh as well. Eventually you had been able to remove the top from your pumpkin, and then grabbed one of the wide plastic spoons to try to scoop the insides out.

“This is so gross,” you said, turning your head away from the pumpkin, both the sight and smell making your stomach churn. You tried to scoop out some of the seeds, but the second the slimy insides touched your hand you gave up, pulling your hand out with a very disgusted look on your face.

“It’s not that bad y/n,” Kimi said, having already emptied a good portion of his pumpkin.

“No, this is so bad,” you said, looking around the table for something to wipe your hand off with, but couldn’t find anything. You turned to Kimi, not really thinking twice before using the sleeve of his Mercedes shirt to wipe your hand on.

Kimi’s eyes widened as he turned to you, although a wide smile was on his face. “You did not just do that,” he said, a devious look in his eyes, which made you realize that was definitely a bad idea.

“Kimi- don’t you dare,” you began, but it was too late. He had already grabbed a small handful of the pumpkin seeds from his pumpkin and smeared it on the sleeve of your shirt.

Your mouth dropped, eyes wide as he nearly doubled over in laughter at your reaction. Despite how disgusting you thought the inside of the pumpkin was, it didn’t stop you from reaching your hand into your pumpkin, grabbing a handful of the squishy seeds, and returning the favor as you smeared it along the front of his shirt, hiding the Mercedes logo.

“Oh, it’s on,” Kimi said, a laugh falling from his lips as you jumped from your seat, laughing with him as you pushed your chair between the two of you. That didn’t stop him from gently throwing a handful of the pumpkin at you, which hit you in the stomach.

From behind the camera, the entire marketing team was absolutely dying with laughter.

“Okay, that’s it,” you whispered under your breath, once again grabbing a small handful of the slimy seeds. A large smile was on your lips, however, energetic laughter matching Kimi’s as you chased him around the table. You stopped, with him on one end, you on the other, and leaned over the table, reaching your hand up and ran it through his dark curls.

Simultaneously, Kimi had reached his hand up, which had gone unnoticed by you, and rubbed pumpkin across your cheek.

Both of your eyes widened, your contagious laughter falling silent, although the marketing team was still laughing. Your eyes met, and the split second of disbelief quickly broke away into large smiles.

“I cannot believe you just did that,” you said, holding your hands up. “Truce?” you quickly asked, as Kimi bent his head down, shaking some of the pumpkin from his hair.

“Truce, piccolo diavolo,” Kimi said, sending a playful glare your way as he made his way back around the table. translation : little devil

“You are unbelievable,” you said with a smile as you both sat down to try and finish the video, although the likelihood of that was pretty low.

requests are open! please send some in!

dividers by @/bernardsbendystraws

[ashtheketchum]

● Bad girl ●

Daryl Dixon X FEM.Reader

Era: Season 2, farm

Summary: Daryl had been badly injured while searching for Sophia and your daddy had ordered Daryl to stay overnight in your house. The archer had his own room with a bed and you took care of his wounds. But one time you had sneaked a peek into his room while he was jerking off and he caught you.

Warnings: +18 CONTENT, FEMALE Reader, spanking, fingering, AGE GAP (Daryl is in his late 30s, Reader is 20 years old), teasing, perv Daryl, masturbate, Reader watches Daryl masturbating

Words: 2.5k

Masterlist!

___________________________________

PoV (Y/N):

The world was ending and, as my daddy would call it, "sick" people were running around. But suddenly a group of survivors came to us and they brought an injured boy to us. Apparently Otis had shot him and another girl was missing. My daddy took care of the injured boy and meanwhile the survivors were allowed to live with us in the front yard. They were not allowed to enter our house except for Rick and Lori, the parents of the injured boy.

I was the middle daughter of the Greenes. Maggie was my older sister and Beth was my younger sister, but I still wasn't allowed to do much with the survivors. It kind of annoyed me, but I could understand my daddy, after all we didn't know these survivors. But one survivor seemed very interesting to me. I think his name was Daryl, but I didn't see him very often. He looked for the missing little girl every day and only came back late at night. Inside, I already gave up hope of getting to know him better, but one day I got my chance.

One day Daryl came back badly wounded and he had also been shot by Andrea. Apparently he had also received one of his arrows in his side. My daddy took care of his wounds and now he had to lie in our guest room. While my daddy took care of his wounds, I brought him food and towels to wash himself with.

But while I was with him, I hardly spoke to him. I came in with a "Hello" and left with a "Ask if you need anything.". But not because I was afraid or because I didn't want to talk to him, I just didn't dare. Even though he sometimes looked at me with a non-grumpy expression on his face, I didn't dare say more. But it didn't seem to bother him, he actually seemed to enjoy the peace and quiet. But I really wanted to talk to him.

But today I wanted to do it differently. I had some food in my hands for Daryl and I was about to knock on his door when I suddenly heard a soft moan coming from his room. At first I thought he was moaning because of the pain, so I quietly opened the door so it was ajar. I quietly looked in to see if Daryl was really moaning because of the pain. But when I saw why he was really moaning, I turned bright red and my cunt started to throb and tingle.

Daryl had his back turned to me, I could see his bare back, which was covered in scars. I had noticed these scars many times, even though he constantly tried to hide them. Sometimes I had to come into his room when he was sleeping to bring him new clothes or leave his food there. My eyes sometimes fell on his broad back and, accordingly, on his scars.

Daryl's right arm moved up and down very quickly, while in his other hand he held a white cloth. He pressed it close to his face, probably to muffle his noises. Although I didn't have much experience with sexual things, I knew enough to know that Daryl was jerking himself off. Although I couldn't see anything, his noises were enough to make my panties wet. I put the food I wanted to bring him on the floor and then my hand wandered between my legs, under my skirt. I slowly pressed my middle finger against my clit, through my panties, and a quiet gasp escaped me. I did my best to be quiet, since everyone was still near the house. Not inside the house, but close. And Daryl was still behind the door.

The sound of skin slapping against each other became faster and faster and Daryl's breathing became faster too. As his hand moved faster, my movements on my clit also became much more faster. I closed my eyes, completely lost in the feeling of masturbation. My panties became wetter and wetter and my legs began to shake while I wished and imagined Daryl was moaning my name. My legs eventually gave up and I slowly knelt on the floor. On the other hand, I could briefly hear Daryl moaning very loudly before I heard nothing more. But I couldn't stop touching myself and imagining Daryl moaning my name, his rough fingers massaging my clit and stroking my skin. With my eyes closed, I gasped a little louder, his name also escaped my lips sometimes.

God, I was so lost in thought that I actually heard him say my name. "(Y/N)?… Hey…" But soon I was surprised by reality when I felt a rough hand on my shoulder. I immediately jumped and looked up at Daryl, his cheeks bright red. He looked at me confused and a little annoyed and I already knew that he knew what I had just done. But he also seemed uncomfortable, because his cheeks were bright red and his hands were shaking slightly. Maybe this was just the aftereffects of masturbating. "D-daryl…!?" Shocked, I pulled my hand away from between my legs and looked at his plate, which was next to me. The food had probably gone cold by now.

"I-i…! I can explain…!" I stuttered harshly, while I held my hand that had been satisfying my clit until recently. My fingertips shone slightly from my arousal seeping through my panties. But I didn't want Daryl to see them, even though he probably already knew what I was doing.

The archer remained silent, he just looked between my legs. There was something sparkling in his blue eyes before he turned around and looked down at me. At first I was afraid he would tell my daddy and I would get into so much trouble. "Come with me." Daryl then said suddenly. Without waiting for my answer, he went into his room and sat down on his bed. Swallowing hard, I got up anyway, taking the plate with me so that no one would get suspicious. Once inside the room, I put the plate on the bedside table and stood in front of Daryl. He looked down briefly before looking up at me, I couldn't even read his expression. "Ya were watchin' me, righ´?" He asked suddenly.

I didn't think it was possible, but my face turned even redder than it had been before. Swallowing hard, I looked down at the floor, feeling incredibly uncomfortable that he was now confronting me like this. The last time I had felt so pathetic was when Maggie had caught me kissing a picture of my favorite actor at the time. But this situation was a whole new level. But I didn't wanted to lie to Daryl, he was a good man. "Y-yes… I-I'm sorry, I didn't want-!" "Lay over ma lap. Now." His words confused me even more. Had he just told me to lie on his lap so that my butt was in the air? But I didn't contradict him, I just nodded silently.

I moved hesitantly towards him and knelt down on the bed next to him. At first I looked at Daryl quietly to make sure that this was really what he wanted. But his dark blue eyes looked at me stubbornly, as if they were telling me even more forcefully that I should finally lie across his lap. So I nodded slightly before I lay across his lap, my hips now over his thighs and my butt was stretched up a little. "'S yar family in yar house?" He asked as he lifted my skirt. Now I felt completely naked in front of him and my shame grew more and more. Daryl could now not only see my ass, but also my wet panties. "N-no…" I answered his question anyway. "W-why-!? Ah!” I gasped loudly when I felt him slap my left butt cheek.

It wasn't a hard slap, but he wasn't gentle either. It was hard enough to make me gasp and whimper, but not hard enough to hurt me. Another slap, this time on my right ass cheek. Whimpering, I dug my nails into his bed cover that was underneath us. "Yar dirty, ya know tha'?" He suddenly asked. I couldn't even answer his question before he slapped my ass again. I pressed my legs together tightly, even though these slaps hurt somehow, they also aroused me at the same time. I felt myself getting even wetter and my lower abdomen tingled strongly as I felt his slap on my ass again.

Whimpering, I pressed my face into his bed, but this was also a mistake. The bed smelled like him. How could it not smell like him, he was lying in this bed the whole time. Daryl's smell made my eyes roll back slightly and my whimpering turned into a quiet moan. While he slapped my now red skin with his right hand, his left hand held my legs down, as I sometimes lifted them out of reflex. "Dirty girl… ya like tha'?" He asked suddenly. A quiet whimper escaped me again, but I didn't answer him. Yes, I liked it, but I didn't want to admit it. Daryl remained silent for a while before he lifted some of the fabric of my panties and let it slap against my skin again. "Yar so goddamn wet…" He growled quietly.

Before I could react, Daryl pushed my panties aside, now he could see my wet pussy. "D-daryl…" "Shhh… be quiet." He said, in a stern but at the same time gentle tone. I hadn't known Daryl for long, but I believed and trusted him. It was dumb, yeah. But I didn´t really care. I could have pushed him away at any time, his grip wasn't firm or hurtful. He slowly let his finger slide through my wet folds before he pressed his rough finger against my clit. Panting, I pressed my legs together tighter and whimpered a little louder. For a while, Daryl massaged my clit in circular movements and I kept moaning and whimpering quietly. "D-daryl, please…" My voice came out quietly. At first I thought he hadn't heard me, but when he slid his fingers to my entrance, I got a cold shiver.

"Ya wan' it here?" He then asked, circling his finger around my entrance. Breathing heavily, I nodded slightly before pressing my face into his bed covers. His scent immediately filled my nose again, and he slowly pushed his finger into me. "Fuck, yar tigh'…" Daryl murmured quietly as he slowly began to move his finger. I was wet enough that he could start right away and I didn't feel any pain, it just felt weird. "D-daryl…~! G-god…" I murmured quietly as my grip on his bed covers became tighter and tighter.

Daryl just growled softly before he curled his finger slightly. He gently pressed his fingertip against my wet, tight inner walls and the hairs on my neck stood up. At some point Daryl added a second finger and he moved his fingers much faster now. Moaning, I pushed my ass even further towards him, which made him slap my ass with his other hand. Little tears of excitement came to my eyes, the mixture of his fingers inside me and his slaps on my ass provoked an orgasm in me. My breathing became faster and stronger while my legs trembled more and more. "Ya cumming?" The archer asked as he slapped my ass again.

"Y-yes…! P-please~…!" "Please wha'?" "P-please, make me cum~!" I moaned loudly and trembled even more. Daryl moved his fingers as fast as he could and pressed his fingertips against my special spot, which made me see black for a moment. Daryl slapped my ass once more and hit my special spot once more before I moaned loudly into his bed and came around his fingers. My head was spinning as Daryl slowly pulled his fingers out of me and gently stroked my ass. "'re ya good?" I heard Daryl ask in a soft voice.

Humming, I nodded slightly, but I was still trying to recover from the orgasm. I had touched myself before, but I had never been so overwhelmed by an orgasm, if I ever had one. "Yeah, yeah… I'm good…" I murmured quietly. I lay still for a while, Daryl adjusted my panties a little and pulled my skirt down again so that it covered my ass.

When I finally got myself together, I slowly climbed down from him. My face was still bright red and my legs were shaking a little. Daryl just looked up at me quietly before looking down at his food. "Can we… do this again?" I asked uncertainly and then looked at him. Daryl remained silent for a moment before turning back to me and looking at me again with his unreadable expression. "If ya wan´? Jus´… don´ tell yar old man." A certain joy and hope spread through me, but I didn't show it, I just nodded. Then I left his room again and closed the door behind me.

Somehow everything went a little too fast for me, but I didn't regret it for a second. So I went back to my room with a big grin to change my panties.

PoV Daryl:

I stayed in bed for a while before looking at my fingers, which were still wet from her orgasm. Something stirred in my pants again as I hesitantly put my fingers in my mouth and tasted them. God, she tasted as sweet as she looked. Of course I knew that she had been interested in me for a long time, but I never dared to speak to her properly because of our age difference. But this situation that happened recently made my heart beat faster and I could now dream about it every night. How her pussy wrapped tightly around my fingers, how her ass slowly turned red with every slap and how she moaned my name. God, I was already looking forward to the next time.

[wannabespacesmuggler]

D.D. | Shane's Girl [10]

Part Ten | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee | Check out the playlist

Summary: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you’re forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x female!Reader

Warnings: Shane Walsh is the worst, angst, canon violence, mentions of tobacco use, chapter follows “Tell it to the Frogs” but dialogue and events are paraphrased.

Word Count: 3K

Author’s Note: Me posting twice in a week? Unheard of. I've just been feeling very inspired for this story and this chapter just took on a life of it's own. I try to keep these chapter under 2,000 words, but this one is a tad longer. Hope you all enjoy! As always I would love to hear what y'all think.

After an eventful night around the campfire, you return to your empty tent. A part of you was thankful when Shane told the group that he was taking watch tonight, but another part of you recognizes that he’s simply trying to delay the inevitable. You’re just not sure you’re ready for that conversation right now. Not after the whiplash of emotions you experienced today: from the joy of one of your best friends returning from the dead to the devastation you felt for Daryl at the realization that Merle didn’t make it back from Atlanta. 

You had asked about the older Dixon’s absence during a lull in the conversation after you’d all finished dinner. Rick explained what had happened in Atlanta, and though you understood why he chose to handcuff Merle on the roof, your heart broke for Daryl. When you asked if they planned to return to the city for him, you were met by a scoff from Shane and a mumbled good riddance under his breath. His reaction made you sick to your stomach. You may not care for Merle Dixon, but Daryl does. And for all you know, he’s the only family that Daryl has left. 

The prolonged silence that ensued after your question was an answer in itself. They didn’t plan on going back for him. 

You lie down on your cot, sighing as you stare into the darkness above you. Your mind is still racing at the realization of Shane’s infidelity. You hadn’t gotten a chance to process the insinuation during the constant commotion this evening, but now that you were alone, it’s all you can think about. You roll over, closing your eyes and hoping that some sleep will give you a clearer perspective on your dilemma. But even though today took pretty much everything out of you, sleep never seemed further away. The idea of holding onto all of this alone is exhausting, but who are you supposed to talk to right now? Rick and Lori just got each other back. You barely know Glenn and Dale. And even though you’re friends with Andrea and Amy, anything told to the sisters tends to spread through the camp like wildfire. You wish Daryl was here. 

But then there’s your second problem. How do you explain to Daryl that the group left his brother in Atlanta? And how will he respond? Daryl’s just started opening up to you, and you’re depending on that budding friendship now more than ever. You’re afraid he will pull away from the group due to the betrayal. And you wouldn’t blame him — betrayal weighs heavy on your heart right now. 

You let out another sigh as you turn onto your back. You pull your thin blanket over your head, trying to physically block out the thoughts spiraling inside of your brain. In an attempt to calm yourself down, you pull Dale’s book out of your backpack and ignite your small flashlight. You open the book to where you left off, but instead of getting further into the novel, your eyes drift to the crumpled piece of paper acting as your placeholder. Finally, you drift off rereading Daryl’s hastily written note. 

When you wake, you’re met with rays of morning sunlight filtering through the flaps of your tent. You blink the grogginess out of your eyes. Even though you slept more than usual last night, your body feels like it didn’t get any rest. You gather your strength and manage to get off of your small cot, groaning as your feet connect with the ground. Hopefully, you’ll feel better once you busy yourself with something to do around camp. 

Exiting your tent, you’re met with a surprisingly empty camp. Your brow furrows as you sweep the area, but a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as your eyes land on Rick talking to Carol by the RV. Having Rick Grimes back in your life still feels like a dream. You make your way up to the pair, and Rick glances over your way. 

“You look as tired as I feel.”

Although his words are said in a humorous tone, his eyes hold a look of genuine concern. The small smile on your face grows a bit wider at the sight. Rick Grimes isn’t your blood, but you’ve considered him your family since you befriended Lori all those years ago.

“Just a restless night, I suppose.”

You attempt to brush off the concern nonchalantly. The last thing you want to do is worry Rick as he’s settling back in with his friends and family. But even though he lets out a warm chuckle at your response, the concern etched into his features doesn’t dissipate. Rick opens his mouth to reply, but is cut off by a woman screaming. The two of you look toward where the sound is coming from, somewhere off in the surrounding woods, before looking back at each other with wide eyes.

“Lori…”

Without another word, the two of you race off into the woods with Carol not far behind. As you both get further into the forest, you begin to hear a medley of concerned voices. And finally, you find a small clearing with the entire group gathered around Sophia and Carl. Rick rushes over to his son, but your eyes are fixated on an inanimate walker lying beside a deer carcass. Your hand subconsciously lands on your hip and grabs the hilt of your hunting knife. Although it looks like some of the men handled the walker, you still have a sinking feeling in your stomach as your eyes rake over the jagged bite marks that trail down the deer’s neck. 

A rustling in the woods pulls your attention away from the carnage, and suddenly, everyone is on high alert. You watch as both Shane and Rick get in front of Lori and Carl, shielding them with their bodies as they draw their guns up toward the sound. Your tense shoulders relax, and a relieved sigh escapes your lips as Daryl appears from the dense forest brush. Everyone drops their weapons as Daryl raises his hands. Shane groans as he spots a handful of squirrels that Daryl has tied onto a rope in his left hand. Daryl glares at Shane for a second before his eyes land on the mangled deer lying on the forest floor.

“Son of a bitch!”

Daryl approaches the deer, angrily muttering about how he’d been tracking it for miles. He kicks the deer in frustration and drops to a knee to assess the damage the walker has done. 

“I was gonna drag it back to camp — cook us all up some venison. What do you think? Think we could cut around the chewed-up parts?”

Daryl’s proposal earns him several disgusted groans, and Shane responds. 

“I wouldn’t risk it, man.”

Daryl sighs disappointedly before standing up from the deer. He wipes off his hands on the front of his jeans. His eyes harden slightly as he looks over at Shane. 

“That’s a damn shame. Got some squirrel though — that’ll have to make due.”

From behind him, the walker begins groaning and Daryl rolls his eyes as multiple people cry out in horror. In one swift motion he swings his crossbow from behind his back and shoots the walker square between the eyes. Daryl’s eyes scan the small crowd that has gathered around all of the commotion. His posture relaxes ever-so-slightly as his eyes meet yours. He gives you a subtle nod — a small gesture you’ve grown accustomed to. Instead of nodding back, you drop your eyes to the ground. You’re not quite sure how to face him right now — overwhelmed by a mix of embarrassment over your current predicament with Shane and guilt that you didn’t go to Atlanta after learning about Merle. Realistically, you know that there’s no way that you could go on a lone rescue mission to the city to save Merle, but you still feel like you should have done something. 

Daryl’s brow furrows, and his heart clenches at your reaction. What happened while he was gone? Daryl looks around and suddenly realizes that everyone in camp is staring at him with a disheartened expression — everyone except Merle. His eyes quickly scan the group once more before he starts making his way toward their shared tent. Everyone moves to follow him. 

“Merle! Merle, where you at?”

You move to step forward. If anyone was going to break the news about his brother, it should be someone who cares about him. But before you can speak, Shane pushes you behind him and takes the lead.

“Daryl, just slow up a bit. We need to talk to you about Merle. There was a problem in Atlanta.”

Daryl chews on his bottom lip for a second before responding. 

“He dead?”

Your heart breaks as you watch Daryl’s expression drop.

“We’re not sure.”

Daryl’s face hardens at Shane’s answer. 

“He either is or he ain’t!”

Rick puts a hand on Shane’s shoulder before things get too heated between the two hot-headed men. As Daryl’s gaze shifts from Shane to Rick and his eyes narrow. 

“Who the hell are you?”

“Rick Grimes.”

Recognition flashes in Daryl’s eyes as the name immediately reminds him of the numerous stories you’ve told him about the man you consider a brother. His gaze flickers to you briefly before shifting back to Rick. For your sake, he pushes his anger aside for a moment and chooses to listen to Rick. You watch intently as Rick explains the events that happened in Atlanta. Daryl’s nostrils flare, and his grip tightens around the squirrels he’s holding. 

“You’re tellin’ me that you handcuffed my brother on top of a roof and left him there?”

“Yeah.”

And then all hell breaks loose. Daryl throws the bundle of squirrels at Rick, causing Shane to launch himself at Daryl. You rush forward as Shane tackles Daryl to the floor. You’re yelling at Shane — begging him to get off of Daryl. As you attempt to pull Shane off of him, Shane reaches back and pushes you off of him. Daryl yells as you hit the ground hard. Rick helps you up, and there’s a collective gasp as Daryl, who has managed to get out of Shane’s hold, pulls out his hunting knife. 

“Stop it!”

You step in between the two men — back to Shane. Daryl’s chest heaves from the physical activity, and his eyes don’t leave the man behind you. 

“Daryl.”

Finally, his eyes meet yours, and his face softens ever-so-slightly. He sighs before dropping the knife. You nod at him approvingly before turning to look at Shane. Although Daryl seems to have settled down, Shane is still fuming. His gaze is like daggers as he continues to stare at Daryl. T-Dog steps forward to diffuse the situation. 

“I dropped the key, but I locked the door. Nothing should be able to get in there — we just have to go back.”

You hear Daryl grunt from behind you. As you turn to face him, he’s chewing on his bottom lip again. You can practically see the gears turning his head. 

“Just tell me where he is so I can go get him.”

“I’ll go back with you.”

Lori clenches her jaw at Rick’s words, obviously upset by her husband’s decision. T-Dog nods at Rick’s words before stating he’ll join them. Shane mutters a string of expletives under his breath as Rick glances around the group. His eyes land on Glenn, and he shifts his feet nervously.

“Really, man?”

“You know the city better than anybody. It’d make me feel safer knowing you’re there with me.”

Glenn hesitates for a moment before nodding. Rick gives him a small smile, and Shane lets out an exasperated sigh.

“So that’s your big plan, man? You, T-Dog, Glenn, and Daryl?”

“And me.”

Suddenly, everyone’s eyes land on you. Shane’s expression hardens as his eyes meet yours. His gaze is ice cold, but you don’t back down. 

“The hell you are!”

“I’m going, Shane.”

Shane huffs before taking several steps toward you.

“Are you outta your goddamn mind? This is Merle Dixon we’re talking about.”

You glance back over your shoulder at Daryl who is nervously shifting from one foot to the other. He’s watching the interaction attentively. Just like always, he’s prepared to step in if Shane loses his cool.

“He’s still human, Shane. He deserves better than to die handcuffed on top of a roof like a rabid animal.”

Shane’s expression tightens as his gaze briefly shifts between you and Daryl. His gaze eventually focuses back on you and his eyes narrow. 

“You’re really gonna do this for him?”

He juts his chin towards Daryl, and you let out a dry laugh due to the absurdity of this conversation. Everyone’s watching the stand-off between you and Shane intently — you’d be embarrassed by the attention if you weren’t so angry. 

“This doesn’t have anything to do with him, alright? It’s about doing the right thing.”

Shane takes another menacing step forward. You know what he’s doing — he’s trying to intimidate you into submission, but you’re done with this. He squares his shoulders as he towers over you, but instead of cowering, you stand your ground.

“That’s bullshit. If you leave with them, we’re done.”

His voice is seething. He’s desperately trying to regain control of the situation — the ultimatum is proof of that.

“We’ve been done, Shane.”

You turn to leave the conversation, but Shane reaches out and grabs your wrist. The grip he has on you is bone-breaking, and you let out a surprised yelp as he pulls you back towards him. Immediately, Daryl springs into action. A low, threatening growl rumbles in his throat as he moves toward you.

“Don’t fucking touch her.”

Shane’s grip tightens at Daryl’s warning. You squirm due to the pain shooting up your arm. You desperately try to wriggle out of Shane’s grasp, but it’s too tight.

“Stay out of this. She isn’t yours.”

“Are you deaf? She ain’t yours either.”

Before Shane can react, Rick grabs his shoulder. He looks at you and Shane with wide eyes, obviously confused about what has happened between you both during his absence.

“Brother, what are you doing?”

Finally, Shane releases his grip, and you immediately backstep away from him. Daryl places a gentle hand on your shoulder and moves you further away from Shane. Rick’s brow furrows in confusion as he watches Daryl precautiously step in front of you. He’s obviously missing something here. The last time he saw you both — before the accident, before the coma — you were laughing with each other during dinner at Rick and Lori’s. He remembers your joy. But now you’re looking at his best friend with nothing but discontent. And Daryl, the man that Shane warned Rick about last night, is the one protecting you from a man you shouldn’t fear. Rick shakes his head before addressing the rest of the group. 

“Alright everyone, the show’s over. Let’s all cool off for a bit, okay?”

The group begins to wander off in different directions. But Daryl and Shane continue to stare each other down until Rick grabs Shane’s shoulder again.

“Shane, let’s go.”

It sounds more like a warning than a suggestion. Finally, Shane tears his eyes away from Daryl and stomps into camp. Rick gives you one last apologetic look before following after his best friend. You let out a sigh of relief and let your shoulders drop as the tense encounter finally ends. Daryl turns to face you, and his eyes immediately drop to your wrist, which is already beginning to bruise.

“You ‘lright?”

You nod wordlessly, still overwhelmed by everything that just happened. Daryl moves you back toward a fallen log to sit you down before he cautiously grabs your wrist. You’re so far away right now you don’t even respond to the touch. He drops down on one knee and gently assesses the damage that Shane caused, making sure nothing’s broken. Once Daryl is content with his assessment, he meets your eyes. His expression is brimming with worry as he searches your face. 

“You sure you’re ‘lright?”

Finally, you meet his eyes, and Daryl’s heart breaks at the sight of your broken appearance. He’s overwhelmed by his need to protect you — a feeling that’s becoming increasingly common for him as he spends more time with you. This time, you simply shake your head. Honestly, you have no idea what you feel right now. 

Daryl nods and takes a seat beside you. He feels like a fucking idiot. He never should have left you here for so long — not after everything you told him about Shane, everything he’s observed over the weeks you’ve spent in camp together. Before he can kick himself further, you speak again.

“It’s over, right?”

Daryl looks at you softly and nods.

“It’s over.”

“But he’s still…”

“You ain’t gotta worry about him anymore. I promise you, I ain’t gonna let him do anything to you. Not anymore.”

You’re overwhelmed by the sincerity in his tone and the devotion in his eyes. He promises to protect you like he’s taking an oath. And for the first time since he left on his hunting trip, you feel safe. You nod, honestly believing that Daryl would put himself in harms way for your own well-being. Hell, he already did. You lean back against the fallen log and Daryl reaches into his pocket before wordlessly offering you a cigarette. A warm laugh bubbles in your chest at the gesture and Daryl wishes he could record the sound. You take the cigarette and give him a small smile.

“You’re a bad influence, Dixon.”

A smirk pulls at the corner of Daryl’s lips as he hands you a lighter. You take it graciously and Daryl watches you light the cigarette between your lips. You hand the lighter back to him before taking a long drag.

Goddamn.

He always thought those cowboy killers would kill one day — but he was wrong. You’re going to be the death of him and he’s okay with that. Because he can’t think of a more wonderful way to go.

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[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 2

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: I was overwhelmed by the response on Part 1 (in the BEST way). 🥹 Thank you so much for everyone who read and sent me your lovely amazing comments! Here's Part 2 a bit early for ya. 😘

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 6,400 Tags/Warnings: Idiots flirting, with a side of sexual harassment. 😪

Part 2: "Lieutenant Winchester"

Firehouse 25 was just as much a house as it was a home.

Especially for Dean Winchester.

In the common room, he sat down at his preferred corner of the sofa with a cup of coffee. By now, the guys knew this was his spot, perfectly angled toward the new flatscreen TV someone donated last month.

Up until then, they’d had to hotwire the same tank from 1995, which had only got basic cable. Now at least the newer smart TV came with a subscription to Netflix, courtesy of the donor. 

Dean raised his favorite Batman mug to his face, expecting to imbibe some rich dark roast. What he got was a travesty.

Spitting out the brown soil water back into the mug, he coughed and grimaced.

“Jack!” he called out.

Jack Kline, the newest addition to the house, raised his head from where he was trying to scramble eggs in the open kitchen directly behind the couch.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” he replied.

“Why does this coffee taste like ass?” Dean asked. His voice was still gruff with sleep, as he depended on his morning coffee to wake him up, not assault his tongue.

Behind him, Jack blinked in confusion. “Uh…”

Dean finally turned around and gave the younger man a raised brow.

“What brand did you buy, Candidate?” he asked.

A candidate was a freshly graduated firefighter on probation. They were the rookie, the bottom rung of the totem pole, and Jack was that proverbial whipping post.

“Um…” Jack went to find the coffee canister he’d put away in the cupboards. He showed Dean the red plastic jug. “Folgers. It was on sale.”

“Fuck me,” Dean muttered. “Never Folgers, Candidate. Anything but fucking Folgers. The one thing we don’t skimp out on is quality joe.”

“That ain’t nothin’ but dirt water, son,” Benny remarked, as he and Gordon entered the common room. Benny held a to-go mug he’d brought from home. After he’d seen what Jack brought for groceries yesterday, he’d taken no chances.

“What you wanna get is Gevalia,” Benny added.

“That European crap?” said Gordon. He took his usual spot at the dining table, leaning back in his chair. It left Benny to sit at the other end of the couch with Dean.

“Better than that piss water you drink,” Benny said with a smirk. Gordon raised a brow at him.

“Tea is medicinal, jackass.” The Black man raised a finger to punctuate his point. “It’s good for you. Unlike that carburetor fluid y’all drink.”

“Whatever, man,” Dean said, even though a grin edged at his lips. “All I know is, we need premium coffee, stat. Or it’s gonna be a cranky shift.”

“I can go to the store real quick,” Jack offered.

Say what you want about the kid’s poor taste in grocery buying, he was always willing to jump in when you needed him.

“Nah, stay on breakfast,” said Dean. “I’ll go afterwards. But remember, today you’re practicing rappelling drills.”

Jack nodded. “And lunch duty. And helping clean the truck, and all the bathrooms…did I miss anything?”

Dean shared a look with Gordon. Not only did he drive the truck, but he was one of the men Dean relied on most, as he had the next highest seniority on the job out of the whole firehouse.

Well, except for Benny Lafitte, Captain of the Rescue Squad. Squad members were considered specialists in complex rescue situations. They were highly trained on more sophisticated technical rescue equipment and rappelling, even scuba diving.

It took long years for a firefighter to make it onto Squad; something that Dean used to have ambitions for. But ever since he got promoted to Lieutenant on Truck 79, he realized that his role in this house was best served on the Truck, not on Squad.

“If he gets through all that, Meg might have something for him too,” Gordon said.

“Oh, don’t bring me into this,” remarked a droll voice. “I’ve already got one pound puppy to look after.”

Their Paramedic in Charge strode in with Chuck on her heels. They’d just pulled into the firehouse driveway on Ambulance 7.

“Nice. That’s how you talk about your partner of three years?” Chuck said with a frown. Meg turned to him with a wry grin.

“Only the ones who can hack it on my Ambo,” she replied. “What can I say. You’re special, Shurley. Either that, or a glutton for punishment.”

Gordon shook his head and looked over at Jack.

“Careful with that one. She chewed and hacked out her last partner in under a month.”

“Poor guy didn’t even transfer,” Dean added, making a “flatlining” motion with his hand. “He just quit. Dropped out of the Fire Academy that same day.”

Not all firefighters were made through Meg’s department, but it was a common route, working as a paramedic while getting put through your paces in the Fire Academy. Dean himself had gone straight to the Academy after getting his EMT certification.

But at Dean’s words, Jack’s eyes widened a fraction. Meg turned to him with an almost feline smile. 

“How was the call?” Benny asked her, speaking of the job they’d just returned from. Meg’s expression dimmed a little, as did Chuck’s as they both sat down at the table.

“Ah, just Henry again,” she said. “Overdosed on his insulin.”

Benny frowned, while Dean shook his head. Jack’s brows furrowed.

“Who’s Henry?” he asked.

Meg sat back in her chair with a subtle sigh. Knowing his work partner’s mood, Chuck answered the young man’s question.

“He’s homeless, lives by the river,” he said. “He’s one of our ‘regulars,’ you could say. When we get the call, usually he’s passed out. Dehydration. But sometimes it’s more serious.”

“You can’t take him to the hospital?” Jack asked in concern.

“Today we did,” Meg said. Her brown eyes met Jack’s, her mouth in a thin line. “But without health insurance, there’s only so much they can do after they get him stable.”

That fell a bit heavily into the room. It wasn’t a pleasant fact, but it was the reality. Jack was learning more and more about that aspect of this job, and learning if he could handle the darker shades of what it could bring.

“Well, breakfast is ready,” he said, bringing a large plate of eggs and toast onto the counter. Dean tossed him an appreciative half-smile and got up from the couch.

“Thanks, kid,” he said, walking over along with everyone else. He took a moment to pat Jack on the shoulder.

“What do you want to do first: run drills, or help me and Gordon wash the truck?” Dean asked.

Jack looked up with a smile. “Can we run drills first?”

Dean nodded, grinning back at him. “Good answer.”

The rest of the Truck and Squad crews ambled in at both the announcement and the smell of food. And before long, the common room was filled with conversation, good-natured teasing, and shitty coffee all around.   

From his vantage point facing the open door to the driveway, Benny caught sight of a young woman heading towards the double doors with a large tupperware bin in hand. Bonnie the receptionist happened to be coming in at the same time. You asked her a question Benny couldn’t quite hear.

“Dean… Oh, you’re looking for Lieutenant Winchester?” Bonnie asked. Her voice tended to carry. “Right in there, hun.”

“Well, that sure is interesting,” Benny murmured with a smile. He glanced over slyly at his friend. “Heads up, brother.”

Dean looked up from his plate of eggs expectantly. Benny gestured over with his eyes, just as you walked into the firehouse, both cautious and unsure of where you were going.

Dean’s brows raised. He found himself setting down his plate and getting up from the couch before he really knew what he was doing.

You looked exactly how he remembered. Though this time, you weren’t coffee stained in your professional blouse and black pencil skirt. His attention drew briefly downwards to your heels, this time solid black (and even taller than the last pair, damn).

He noticed all the same things he had last time: the shade of your hair, pinned up again with a clip as stray pieces framed your face. The way you carried yourself when you finally saw him, straightening with a subtle confidence in your shoulders, even though you looked a bit nervous. And the pretty curve of your lips when your eyes found his.

“Hey, there,” Dean said. He gave you one of his trademark smiles. “Good to see you again.”

“Uh, hi,” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I guess I don’t have to ask if you remember me.”

Dean nodded. “‘Course I do. What can I do for you?”

Your face seemed to freeze up a bit as you looked up at him.

“Oh, um, nothing really. I just wanted to say thank you, again,” you said. And you glanced past him, where the rest of the firehouse members were discreetly watching. “All of you, actually. And my friend told me that firefighters really like food…but, I mean, doesn’t everyone?”

You laughed a little, in a nervous way that made Dean struggle not to smile too much.

“Anyway, I like to bake,” you twittered on, “and I had some time this week after…well, you know what happened. So…I brought this!”

You raised up your tupperware with a smile.

And you were damn adorable, Dean thought. His own smile deepened as he glanced down at the offering, then at you. He took the container and opened the lid, and was honestly surprised at what he saw.

He could’ve sworn these were Bonafede, just-poured-out-of-the-box Girl Scout cookies. Dozens of them. He saw shortbreads (complete with the little wavy lines), Samoa cookies with the coconut flakes, and even what looked like chocolate covered Thin Mints. They also smelled delicious.

“Wow. Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, with genuine warmth. “I’m pretty sure the guys are gonna tear these apart the second I put ‘em down.”

Your face brightened, and Dean noticed how it reached your eyes with a bit of a blush.

“Well, I hope you guys enjoy,” you said. Your hands fiddled with your purse next.

“Heading off to work now?” he asked.

“Yep,” you nodded, with a certain glint in your eye. “I plan on taking the stairs this time.”

Dean raised a brow. “All 22 floors?”

“Gotta get my steps in somehow,” you joked. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to become a repeat offender, make you guys come all the way back across town again.”

“Aw, I wouldn’t mind,” he said, meeting your eyes. And he found that he meant it. In fact, he didn’t think he’d mind if your building’s elevator broke down every damn week.

Your expression shifted towards amusement. “Well, you must be very dedicated to your job.”

“Protect and serve,” Dean teased back. “That’s our motto, you know.”

“Isn’t that for police officers?” you quipped.

He chuckled. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”

“Well…” you considered that with a tilt of your head, more seriously than he expected you to. You met him with a more earnest gaze. “I think it does.”

Right then, Dean had a feeling, deep in his gut, that he needed to know you. He had half a mind to heed his instincts, to take advantage of the signals he thought you were sending him, and ask if he could take you out sometime.

But it was unprofessional here at the firehouse (not that that had stopped him before). He’d been making efforts to curb that kind of behavior for the past few months.

He also remembered the 30 floors of your massive, fancy office building. He considered the price tags that probably came with the admittedly sexy, high-powered corporate look you had going on. Those were probably a lot more zeros than he was used to seeing on his paycheck.

So for once, he didn’t pull the trigger.

“Well, thanks. I really do appreciate that,” Dean replied. His smile then was more sincere, if also more professional. He gestured at the container in his hand. “And on behalf of all the guys, thanks for this too.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied. “I have to go, but…thanks again, Lieutenant Winchester.”

“Ah,” he shook his head, “just call me Dean.”

You agreed by smiling, just a little bit more.

“Dean.”

He nodded back, sending you off with a smile of his own. He forced himself to taper it down after you left, and he had to turn around to meet his friends. Their grins reminded him of piranhas.

“All right. Out with it, you freakin’ jackals.” He waved his free hand in a “bring it on” gesture.

Meg was the first one to burst out laughing. It spearheaded the rest of them, whooping and catcalling and generally being menaces. Even Jack was grinning at his lieutenant’s expense.

Meg got up from her seat and bumped Dean’s shoulder on her way to the kitchen, where she dumped her dishes.

“Thanks again, Lieutenant Winchester,” she mocked in a saccharine sweet voice. Then she lowered it into an exaggerated mimic of his deeper one, “Call me Dean, baby girl. Fucking priceless. You should get your own Hallmark movie.”

Dean rolled his eyes. He’d been prepared for this, but his face was still getting warm.

“Shut up, Meg,” he tossed back. They all had an ongoing Family Guy joke that never failed to make their PIC narrow her eyes. And she did so now, giving him a fake grimace as she left the kitchen.

“All right, kiddos. If you need me, don’t,” she said. “Chuck! Let’s sort the ambo’s inventory.”

“Got it,” her partner nodded. He too got up and placed his dishes in the sink before he took off after Meg.

This left Dean with the rest of the guys, who still gave him knowing smiles as he set your bin of cookies down on the table. He blew out a breath before he returned to the couch and sat down heavily across from Benny and Gordon.

“I never thought I’d see the day that Dean Winchester bitched out,” Gordon remarked.

Once again, Dean rolled his eyes.

“Truly incredible,” Benny added. He shook his head when Dean just crossed his arms. “She was eying you like a pork cutlet, and you just let her walk outta here.”

“We’re in the house, guys. What was I supposed to do?” Dean groused.

Benny and Gordon looked at him like he’d just denounced Led Zeppelin (his favorite band of all time). 

“Get her goddamn number, Winchester,” said Gordon. The man’s lips curved. “Or at least, introduce her to a brother.”

Dean shot him a glance. Gordon Walker was damn good at driving the truck, but he was also known for being a hunter of the ladies himself.   

“She seemed nice,” Jack put his two cents in with a smile. He was standing behind the couch, leaning his elbows on it. Gordon scoffed, nodding his agreement.

“Yeah, with a fat ass too,” he said, sipping his tea. 

Benny reached over and hit his shoulder to shut him up. 

“That’s a lady, Gordon,” he said. Though a suspect smile graced his lips as he glanced at Dean. “A lady with a nice ass.” 

Dean shook his head, but he couldn’t disagree. The first time he met you, he’d been impressed by the way you stood your ground with your asshole boss. Dean thought you were going to chuck that lethal looking heel at the guy. But behind that steely exterior was a kind little softie.

Today, he got your sweet side. It was equal parts sexy and adorable. 

And damn if you didn’t have a nice ass, nice curves, and a nice mouth. 

But your eyes, he thought. Those were nothing short of beautiful. 

About twenty minutes across town, an apartment building was swarmed by police cars. One unit in particular was sealed off with yellow caution tape as a team of officers drifted in and out. 

What a fucked way to die.

Detective John Winchester observed the unnatural angle that the victim—Jerry Stillwell, a certified public accountant—had his throat cut with a jagged weapon.

It hadn’t been clean in the least. And he’d bled out across his work desk and a stack of papers, as well as his desktop computer. He was 45, unmarried, and murdered in his own home in the middle of a Friday afternoon.

The computer wouldn’t turn on, and not because of the blood. It had been wiped with magnetized technology, most likely by the intruder. Though there was no sign of forced entry, according to John’s partner. The murder weapon was missing as well, though it looked like a knife wound.

John leaned over the on-site medical examiner’s shoulder to peer closer at the man’s wounds. Stillwell had most likely been grabbed from behind. So far, the signs pointed to the culprit being someone the victim knew.

They probably took Stillwell by surprise, but he was a large man. If John had to guess, over 250 pounds, unathletic, but still, not easy to overpower. Likely the suspect was a man over 6 feet; strong, and efficient. Though the messiness of the kill made John think this guy took "pride" his work, so to speak.

“Signs of struggle,” said the M.E. “Skin under the fingernails. He fought back, and…huh.”

John’s interest piqued at the man’s shift in tone. “What?”

“Take a look at this.” The M.E. was holding Stillwell’s right hand, palm-up, revealing a small burn on the inside of the wrist. John’s gaze sharpened on the mark.

“Cas, come here,” he said. Across the room, Detective Cas Novak paused in his task of examining the entry points of the apartment to join John at his side. His blue eyes widened a fraction at seeing the burn. It was a symbol of a snake eating its own tail.

“That makes four,” Cas said.

“Yep. We’ve got ourselves a murder cluster,” John said. Cas nodded. He beckoned John to the side, making sure the M.E. was out of earshot before he spoke. “Isn’t it time we brought Sam up to speed on this, at least?”

John’s brows furrowed.

“No,” he said. “Sam’s an ADA. We don’t go to him until we have someone to indict.”

He walked away from Cas, who frowned. John knew damn well that wasn’t what he meant. This was the fourth murder within six months of this nature. The fourth to be branded with the mark of Azazel…a criminal who supposedly disappeared decades ago.

Shortly after November 2, 1983, the day of Mary Winchester’s death.

Seeing Dean again had gone better than you thought it would. It left you feeling light and downright cheerful when you left the firehouse this morning. Unfortunately, the great start to your morning only crumbled when you reached your office.

Now, even at the end of your day, finally back at home and in the familiarity of your kitchen, the tension headache was back.

“Dre, I’m tired. Can’t we do this another night?” you asked.

Your cell phone was balanced between your ear and your shoulder as you counted out your grandfather’s pills, and placed them in each “Monday through Sunday” box in the blue container.

“No, we absolutely cannot. Because today was horrific,” Andréa said. “For me, because my coworker decided to play hookie on the day our top account needed the mockups of their new website. Never mind that she hadn’t even started.”

Pause for an aggravated breath, through which you frowned in sympathy. She’d told you the entire story over lunch today.

“And for you, because Nick once again displayed why he’s a subhuman neanderthal, in spectacular fashion,” she added.

Your grimace deepened at the reminder.

Earlier today, just before a sales meeting you were set to lead, you’d turned away from the conference table to set up the projector. Nick was early for once, making it just him and you in the room.

He’d sat back in his chair and uttered a remark that set the hairs on the back of your neck on end.

“I’ll tell you what, babe. You sure know how to wear a skirt.”

Your back straightened, and slowly you turned. Your face was set in stone, save for a solitary raise of your brow.

“Excuse me?”

Nick’s smirk was lazy as he kicked his feet up on the table. His hand held a tumbler of whiskey. You noted the half empty carafe, which just yesterday had been full and untouched.

“Fucking fantastic legs,” he said, vaguely outlining your shape with his hand. “I applaud you. It’s all very…sexy secretary. Oooh! Sexcretary. Fucking brilliant.”

You gaped, trying to put a clamp on the furious spike in your blood.

“Are you drunk?” you asked incredulously.

He raised his fingers an inch or so apart, scrunching up his face and trying not to laugh.

“Actually nah, not at all,” he bluffed. 

He let his hand fall back into his lap. You shook your head and set down your papers in order to cross your arms.

“Good. Then you’ll hear me clearly when I say, I’m filing a formal complaint with Billie in HR,” you said.

“Whaaat? Why?” he complained. You huffed incredulously.

“For your little comments, which are getting more and more heinous. Not to mention your excessive drinking during company hours.”

Nick pursed his lips. “Christ on a stick. Can’t you take a fucking compliment?”

“No,” you deadpanned. “What I refuse to take is any further sexual harassment. This isn’t the first incident I could disclose, but I’m damn sure you’ll want it to be the last.”

He kicked his feet off the table and slowly stood. You didn’t want to be afraid of this sloppy, frat boy drunken attitude, but a tendril of trepidation still laced down your spine as you took a step back.

“You could do that,” he nodded, tilting his head. “Or, I’ll give your Zimmerman account to Josh, along with your commission.”

You frowned, and shock made your entire body tense. 

“You…you can’t do that!” you exclaimed. Your insides fairly shook with frustration tinged with anger. “I’ll sue you.”

“With what money?” Nick scoffed.

Your brows knitted together then. How the hell would he know anything about your finances?

The man noted your reaction with a nod.

“Yeah, I know all about grammy and gramps. Surgeries, funerals, treatments…” he said. He leaned against the table with one hand, and still he fairly loomed over you.

He wasn't as broad as someone like Dean, but he was tall and lean. His dirty blonde hair was swept to the side, his blue eyes bearing down on you.

“I am this company. If you don’t like it, you can get the fuck out, sweetheart,” he said.

His gaze lowered, roaming your glowering face.

“And good luck getting anywhere else without a reference from one of the biggest corporations in Lawrence, Kansas.”

You sighed. Yeah, you might’ve shed some frankly embarrassing tears in the women’s bathroom after that. You hadn’t even told Andréa the full story, which included the details of his comments, along with his threats.

You didn’t want her to worry. And maybe, more selfishly, you were embarrassed at having to deal with it at all.

Truth be told, you still didn’t know what the hell you were going to do. About Nick, or your job…but somehow, getting drunk at a bar seemed about the last thing you should be doing.

“I need a drink,” Andréa insisted. “Which means you definitely need a drink. And I know exactly where we’re going.”

After a long moment, you leaned your elbows on the kitchen counter and rubbed through the persistent ache in your forehead. Maybe, just this once, you deserved to forget about reality. Just for a little while.

“Fine. Where?” you asked.

“It’s this great bar Meg told me about. The Roadhouse.”

“Ah, the usual suspects,” Ellen drawled at the men who managed to find seats at her bar, next to the rest of their party. The Roadhouse was packed on a Friday night, but she always had room for these two.

Benny and Dean wore similar tired, but pleasant smiles as they greeted their esteemed barkeep.

“What’s it been, Ellen, a whole shift since I’ve seen your delightful face?” Dean said.

Ellen gave him a mocking smile as she poured him his favorite beer on tap. Dean grinned and clapped his younger brother on the shoulder as he sat down. He and Cas had been waiting for a little while.

…Well, maybe longer than a little.

“Hey, dude,” Dean said. Sam perked up from his second beer with pursed lips.

“You know we’ve been waiting on you for like an hour, right?” he said.

“Aw, don’t get your panties in a twist, Sammy,” Dean teased. He nodded his thanks at Ellen when she set his beer in front of him, and a glass of whiskey for Benny. “We had a last-minute call. Some guy just couldn’t wait to start his Happy Hour. Drove his car into the company fountain.”

Sam’s brows raised incredulously. He looked over at Benny for confirmation, and the other man gave a resigned nod.

“Apparently it set the ducks into a tizzy,” he said. “The guy’s fine. Probably gonna get slapped with a DUI.”

Dean smirked and raised a finger at both Sam and Cas. “Duck Guy’s your problem now.”

Cas shook his head and raised his beer to his lips.

“Not my department.”

“Mine either,” Sam scoffed. Both of them worked in homicide cases, just from the differing sides of law and order. In fact, they worked together more often than Dean and Cas did.

Dean looked over at his friend Cas for a moment. He looked like more of a hot mess than usual, with his tie half undone, and a scruffy half-beard covering his face.

“Geez, man. You look like shit,” Dean remarked. “You and Meg fighting again?”

“No,” Cas replied, his brows furrowing. “…Well, yes. But nothing more than her usual insanity. Something about the cat preferring to sleep next to me than to her.”

“Well, that’s not so bad,” Benny said. “My dog don’t like her either.”

“Maybe they can smell that she’s feral,” Dean quipped. Cas sent him a dry look at that.

“She threatened to move out,” he revealed. “Even packed a bag at 3:00 in the morning. I spent two hours unpacking what she was re-packing, all while we argued in our underwear, not sleeping.”

Sam and Dean shared bemused looks, while Benny shook his head into his whiskey.

“So how’d it end up?” Sam asked. Cas sighed and took another long sip of his beer.

“Like it always ends, Sam,” he said, his lips quirking. “With our neighbors calling the precinct to complain, and me, somehow ending up sleeping on the couch for a crime I didn’t commit. If she wants to blame someone, blame the goddamn cat.”

Dean chortled. He brought his beer to his lips, but couldn’t resist a light jab at his best friend first.

“Dude, I love her like a sister, but your girlfriend’s unhinged,” he said.

Cas could only nod. “Most are, I’ve come to find.”

Sam scoffed and shook his head. “Not mine.”

“Yeah, that’s because Eileen doesn’t have to see you more than two minutes at a time,” Dean teased. He and his brother still shared an apartment, and Sam’s job as an Assistant District Attorney wrought demanding hours.

Sam shot his brother a flat look.

“Oh, I’m not taking that from the serial playboy,” he said.

Dean’s brows knitted together.

“All right, calm down,” he said. “I’m not Hugh Hefner.”

“Mr. Hit and Run,” Cas added, a smirk gracing his features.

“Chief ‘No Daddy Issues,’” Benny tipped in, giving his annoyed, green-eyed friend a sly glance. “With a side helping of the Clap.”

Dean’s lips pressed into a line. He leveled a finger at Benny.

“That girl was clean, okay? False alarm,” Dean said. His gaze raised heavenward as he sipped his beer. Thank Christ for that one. “The rash was just carpet burn.”

Sam shook his head and turned to his brother more seriously.

“Bottom line: until you date a woman for more than two weeks—hell, two days at a time—you don’t get to comment on the happily committed,” he said. 

Dean rolled his eyes. He knew his track record with relationships. As in, he didn’t really have a record…but it wasn’t for lack of trying. At least, not for the past few months.

Sam managed to break Dean out of his thoughts by clearing his throat, pushing his empty bottle across the counter.

“All right, speaking of. I gotta go,” he said.

“Aw, why? We just got here. Let me buy you another,” Dean offered.

Sam shot his brother another knowing look. Dean knew it well; it said, if he’d been here on time, they would’ve shared the first two drinks.

“I’m picking up Eileen,” Sam said, grabbing his blazer and fixing the collar when he put it on. “There’s this Latin club she wants to go to.”

Dean raised incredulous brows.

“My brother’s going salsa dancing?”

Sam sighed in exasperation, despite his smile. “Bye, Dean.”

He shot his other two friends a nod.

“See you guys.”

Cas and Benny both saw him off with a subtle raise of their drinks, while Dean just shook his head.

“All right, Samantha,” he called out. Sam didn’t bother to turn around as he raised up a choice finger behind him.

Dean snorted into his drink. “Very mature.”

Benny and Cas shared a wry look. They were relieved when Ellen’s daughter Jo came by, picking up the slack for her mom, who was serving a rowdy group of college kids at a nearby table.

“Hey, guys. Need another round?” Jo asked. She gave them all a familiar smile, but her eyes lingered on Dean. He gave her a more reserved smile back.

“Hey, Jo,” he nodded. “I uh…actually think I’m good right now.”

“Me too,” Cas said. He even stood up and grabbed his trenchcoat in similar fashion as Sam had. The two had paid for their beers before Benny and Dean even got there.

“Aw, not you too,” Dean groused.

“If I don’t make dinner, we run the risk of the apartment going up in flames,” Cas informed him. Dean could only assume he was talking about Meg. “Despite working with the Fire Department for ten years, the woman can’t manage to boil an egg without supervision.”

Jo raised a brow, but her smile was bemused as she turned to Benny. “Anything for you?”

“Nah, darlin’. I’m good,” he said. But sensing the unspoken request in her eyes when she glanced at Dean, Benny straightened and raised from his seat. “But I’ll be back. Need’a hit the head.”

Dean internally sighed as Benny left him alone at the bar. Or, well, relatively alone. Jo lingered in front of him to wash and dry out a few glasses. The air between them was stiff, and a little awkward.

Dean’s thoughts shifted back to his brother then; while he still couldn’t believe Eileen had wrangled his gangly Sasquatch of a brother into going dancing, Dean was happy for him. Truly and sincerely. Sam deserved having someone who softened him, made him break away from his endless cases and have some fun.

Dean could also admit, if only to himself, that he was maybe a little jealous. Sam had something good with his girl. Something real.

Dean had carpet burn.

“So, how’s studying going?” he asked Jo. He couldn’t stand awkward silences. “Still planning on giving your mom a heart attack when you get into the Police Academy?”

Jo’s blue eyes flicked up to his. She brushed a coil of blond hair behind her ear after she finished drying a glass, and a smile raised the corner of her lips.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I gave her something to yell about,” she quipped. “But since you asked…my exam is in three months.”

“Good,” Dean nodded. “You’ve got time. Study your ass off. Keep up the conditioning routine I gave you, and you’ll be set. Just don’t forget the strength training. Very important.”

“I got it,” she said, this time with a brighter smile. “Some old firefighter gave me some pointers.”

Dean tilted his beer at her accusingly.

“Hey, don’t pin that old shit on me yet. Benny’s got more mileage than I do…”

He considered her then, after briefly looking down at the counter.

“What?” she said.

He kept his lips tight. “Nothin’.”

“No, Dean. What?” Jo pressed. “You want to say something. Say it.”

He blew out a breath and shook his head.  

“Ellen’s not the only one who’s gonna worry about you on the job, that’s all,” he said. Jo flickered at a rueful frown.

“That’s ironic,” she said. “I can handle myself, Dean. Something you so often seem to forget.”

“That’s not fair, and you know it,” he shot back. His hand tightened around his beer.

Jo’s face fell into irritation, mostly to cover up the hurt he saw buried deep behind her eyes. She gave him some relief by glancing away from him.

“And this is why we didn’t work out,” she muttered. Sighing through her nose, her eyes met his again. “You know what I hate, more than anything? People worrying.”

Dean carded his fingers through his hair, his brows knitting together in aggravation.

“Yeah, well, maybe they have good reason to,” he said. He could’ve predicted the way she tightened up. “And if I remember right, you did your fair share of hand-wringing the next time I responded to a fire on the job.”

He knew it was a low blow. But his point was made, and he fully expected the anger in Jo’s tight frown. They’d dated for a few weeks, mostly in secret.

That had been enough for Ellen to blow her top. Not because she had anything against Dean…just his job: at the very same firehouse her late husband had once served.

So Dean had backed off. He’d ultimately felt he had to end it. And clearly, Jo still resented him for it.

Slowly, however, the fire in her eyes dimmed. Her finger tapped on her side of the bar counter.

“You think I don’t worry anymore just because we’re not together?” she asked him. 

Dean didn’t have a good answer for her. So his gaze fell to his nearly empty beer.

But he was even more relieved when Benny finally got back from the bathroom, or wherever he’d fucked off to for the past few minutes.

He did seem to know that he was interrupting a rather tense moment. Seeing as neither Dean nor Jo wanted to break the silence, Benny supposed it fell on him.

He reclaimed his seat and raised a smile up at Jo.

“I think I’m ready for the next round,” he said, glancing at Dean’s soured mood. “Two whiskeys, please, Joanna.”

Jo treated Benny with a half-smile. He was the only one besides her mother who called her Joanna (and got away with it). After one last look at Dean, she reached over for the Jim Beam.

You met Andréa at the bar in your own car, just in case you needed to dip out early to check on Grandpa George. He was happy to see you going out.

“You’re pretty as a doll, sweetheart,” he’d said, patting your cheek after you kissed his goodbye.

The thought made you smile, even though you thought you were dressed casually in your dark wash jeans and blouse. When Andréa met you outside the bar, she nodded in approval.

“Good. I like the hint of sexy,” she said, plucking at the sweetheart neckline of your top. You rolled your eyes and tried to cover up the cleavage a little, but she batted at your hand.

“No, no. Leave your professionalism at work,” she said. “Tonight, you’re going to relax and have some fun.”

It was hard to think about loosening up when you were literally getting belittled and threatened at work…but you supposed she had a point. You always had to be put together. You had to be sharp, because this world wouldn’t hand you anything on a silver platter.

And not to mention, you couldn’t just think about yourself. You also had to provide and take care of your grandfather too. He was the only family you had left, and you were it for him too…

But you took in a slow, deep breath. Tonight, you could have a couple of drinks with your friend. You could just be yourself, with no responsibilities other than not getting too drunk to drive yourself home later.

So with a sigh, you smiled and linked your arm with Andréa as you headed inside the Roadhouse.

It looked kind of divey from the outside, a worn-looking brown building with a faded red sign. But inside it was all dark wood and leather barstools and rows of soft lighting overhead.

There were records displayed on the wall; Prince’s Purple Rain, the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper, and David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust, among others. Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” played on the wall speakers.

There were several tables, both high top and regular four-seaters, as well as a long bar that spanned the far wall, where rows and rows of liquor were showcased. You followed Andréa’s lead to the bar, where you took a seat at the far end and tried to feel like you belonged here. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone out to a place like this.

“This is nice,” she leaned over into your ear to say. “Next time my cousin should meet us here. She’s a handful, but I think you’d like her.”

You agreed with a smile. “If she’s anything like you, I think I’m well trained to handle your brand of insanity.”

Andréa leveled you with a playfully mocking look.

“Ah, you’ve got jokes tonight. Okay.” She waved over the blonde bartender.

“Hi, ladies,” she greeted. “I’m Jo. What’re we starting off with tonight?”

Before you could order for yourself, Andréa grabbed your arm and spoke over you.

“Do you have absinthe?” she asked.

Your eyes widened. “What?! I’m not drinking that—”

“Sure do,” Jo replied in amusement.

“Great,” said Andréa. You didn’t like her sly grin. “She’ll have an Aunt Roberta. I’ll have a vodka cranberry.”

“What the hell is an Aunt Roberta?” you asked.

Jo listed the ingredients on her fingers. “A nice molotov of brandy, vodka, gin, blackberry liqueur, and of course, absinthe.”

Jesus Christ. You shot Andréa a glare, even though you were trying to dim your smile.

“Are you trying to chill me out or fucking end me?” you asked.

Andréa smirked. “Whatever it takes.”

You rolled your eyes, but you nodded your agreement. Jo’s smile remained as she went to prepare your drinks. Meanwhile, your eyes wandered as you once again took in your surroundings.

Really is a cool place, you thought. And it was busy without being overbearingly crowded. There were even a few seats between you and the rest of the patrons at the bar. Your gaze drew a path onwards, eventually reaching the other end of the bar.

There you caught sight of red flannel over a black undershirt, familiar broad shoulders, and an even more familiar face. Your eyes widened a fraction as his met yours, gleaming with recognition…and interest.

That slow smile of his was familiar too. It made a lance of heat run down your spine. You gripped the counter, mostly to steady yourself as you let out a breath.

Lieutenant Winchester.

AN: *rubs hands together* It begins. 😏

Lol how'd you like Dean's little moment with the reader at the firehouse? Plus the introduction of the rest of our cast!

(And a possible serial killer on the loose?) Though sorry about Nick. He's a douchecanoe.

Next Time:

Anticipation and nerves coiled together in your lower belly. You turned to your friend, who was already sipping at her vodka cranberry.

“Dre, help me,” you pleaded.

Andréa discreetly followed the path of your gaze, and her brows raised. A smirk curved her lips.

“Oh, babe. You need to help yourself,” she replied.

“I haven’t done that in a while,” you admitted. Your dating life had been sorely lacking, between the demands of your job and taking care of things at home. “I’m gonna say something demented.”

Andréa huffed in amusement.

“So? That’s half the fun,” she said.

Keep Reading: PART 3

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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