#how am i supposed to hold down a job... whatever

[chvoswxtch]

It has been an expensive few weeks and despite being a very well educated scientist at a reputable institution, I make astoundingly little money. So I’d love to request a little action clip! I’m so taken with the idea of Frank just like casually stealing whatever money is lying around the place after he shoots up a mobsters joint and using it to help you with your bills 🤣

no bc why is living so expensive like where is the groupon for existing??

this one actually made me laugh bc I was thinking about in season 2 when he and amy go to that motel and he hands her that bloody wad of cash and she's like?? bitch what am I supposed to do with this??? and he's like???? pay for the motel dumbass

like he's so calm about it and truly does not give a fuck. he absolutely takes whatever money is lying around bc it's not like they're using it anymore 🤣 but ya know what, in this economy, vigilantism doesn't pay the bills (and neither does having a job apparently) so he's not wrong

blurb below the cut

the many saints of newark starring frank castle

The wad of cash that Frank pulled out and set on your dining table made your eyes widen. The faded green crumpled bills were speckled with what was undoubtedly blood. Staring up at Frank wide eyed, creases of confusion settled in your forehead.

“Where did you get this?”

“From someone that don’t need it no more.”

Frank shrugged off his jacket and walked over towards your kitchen, his heavy booted footsteps echoing on the worn wooden floor. You were still staring at him in incredulity. He’d just dropped what looked like a thousand dollars on your dining table with as much indifference as if he’d dropped a twenty dollar bill to cover take out for the two of you.

“Wha-, Frank, this is…what am I supposed to do with this?”

Frank turned his head to look at you over his shoulder, clearly perplexed by your question. Pursing his lips, he lightly scrunched up his nose and shrugged.

“Whatever you want. Get ahead on a few bills, buy some of that stuff that’s been sittin’ in your cart for weeks, save it, I don’t know. Your call.”

His casual behavior about the situation left you spiraling. You didn’t wanna know where this money had come from. You had an idea, but you didn’t need confirmation. 

“Frank…I can’t…shouldn’t we give this to the police?”

If he was perplexed before, he was full on confused now. He turned to face you fully, his expression twisted up like you’d just asked him the most ridiculous question.

“The hell would we do that for?”

“Well…because. It’s…I mean…isn’t it…like…”

“Sweetheart, it’s money. Money is money. Don’t matter where it came from or who had it. They ain’t got a use for it no more. Besides, better you have it and put it to good use than some crooked cop pocketin’ it, or it collectin’ dust in an evidence locker.”

Frank made a valid point. The logical part of your brain understood what he was saying. And it would definitely give you some breathing room, taking care of more than a few bills so that you could cut back a bit on how much you were working.

Sensing your confliction, Frank set the mug down on the counter and walked over towards you, lightly grasping your chin to get you to look at him.

“Look, only place that money is goin’ is in your bank account. Now either you can deposit it, or I’ll swipe your wallet and do it myself. But it ain’t goin’ nowhere else.”

You knew Frank wasn’t joking. And you knew you weren’t winning this argument. Letting out a quiet huff, you have him a pointed look.

“Yeah let me just stroll into my bank and hand them this bloody money. That won’t get me put on a watchlist.”

“For all they know the blood came from a papercut.”

Grabbing one of the bills and holding it up silently, as if to prove your point, you arched one of your brows. Frank glanced down at it, seeing the way crimson stained the faded green paper like confetti. Rolling his eyes, he swiped the bill and set it down on the table with the rest.

“For fucks sake, gimme your goddamn wallet.”

[berrymeter]

okw hat if i lie down for an hour. yes

[medicinemane]

Mike johnson has so god damn much blood on his hands, obviously Ukrainian blood, but also plenty of American blood

Refusing to renew something that helps vets exposed to atomic blast and Americans who were downwind of the fall out... it's just sick. I can't fucking stand mike johnson, he's one of the worst scum to ever be in congress, and that's fucking saying something

"Johnson refused to allow House members to vote on bipartisan legislation to renew and improve the program"

Fucking quivering little pimple seems to have a real MO for just wringing his hands while insisting it's not his fault, he just can't do the one fucking part of his job of putting shit up to a vote... oh boo hoo, so sad, he'll just have to unilaterally let funding expire on things instead of literally just putting it up to our elected representatives to see if they want to vote yay or nay

Single handedly make the choices but it's not his fault when they work out how they do

Murderer

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[tthegoldentouch]

Pairing: Aventurine x reader

Tw: none, he's just skittish but that's understandable. Might have grammatical mistakes but English isn't my first language so whatever. The « » words are supposed to be the avgin dialect okok that's all

"Will you teach me how to speak the Avgin dialect?"

Aventurine nearly splutters out the sip of wine he was about to drink, and you observe as his whole body subtly jerks — trying to figure out if he misheard you or not.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

And yet, the only expression he sees on your face is a little smile, a hint of curiosity and optimism in those lovely eyes of yours. For some reason, he can't find it in him to appreciate that look this time.

"And why is that?" The tone of his voice is reserved, calculated, and for a millisecond, you are reminded of your job: meetings, negotiations and transaction. The air suddenly feels thicker, and although he maintains his usual smile, there's a subtle shift that suggests it may not be as genuine as it was moments ago.

"Because I….want to understand you?" You naively respond, unaware of the warnings you're triggering in his head, unaware of the amount of bells ringing in his ears. The red alarms flashing in front of his eyes are bright, and they blind him to everything else, drowning out your silhouette until he can't make out your face as a familiar one.

All he's seeing is red, red of a warning bell, red of sunset and endings, red of blood and—

"I'm not sure why you even thought that would be a good idea" a small chuckle leaves his mouth, and he shifts a little on the couch in an attempt to regain his belongings.

"After all, I don't even speak it anymore— a dead language is not something you'd benefit from learning."

"But I am a linguist" You counter, huffing a bit. "I wouldn't think a language is “less beneficial” just because it's dead. Besides, Sigonian isn't a dead language, and neither is the Avgin dialect. You are here, and you speak it."

Blink.

"What?" Aventurine grows defensive, and he shifts in his seat again; only a little. It's not okay to let others know of your discomfort, you cannot show your weaknesses. Luckily, you don't notice, and he continues carefully.

"I don't speak it— what are you saying? How could I possibly use that language?"

He picks his sentences with caution, leaving half of it up in the air for you to interpret. He can't bring himself to finish it— he can't use it when everyone else who spoke of it is presumably dead. That would only result in another restless night of futile attempts at subduing the void in his heart. Just because he knows it, doesn't mean he likes to think of it.

Aventurine does not like to remember the fact that he's the only one left of the Avgins, even though the cosmos is merciless in its reminders.

"You do speak it!!" You insist, and look into his eyes, and his eyes almost make you forget the rest of your sentence. "—You say things under your breath. When things go south, or when your catcakes do something super adorable and you can't hold a grin on your face. I've seen you multiple times, talking to yourself in an unfamiliar language. It is your mother tongue, is it not?"

Ah.

The words that escape your lips are curling into itself, flickering through the corners of his mind. I've seen you multiple times. Multiple times. Multiple times. Talking to yourself. To yourself. To yourself.

His mother tongue.

Oh, how he wishes he could talk to someone else, how he longs to talk to another Avgin in his mother tongue— in their mother tongue.

"Do I do that?" He inquires, and you affirm, still wearing a smile. Both of you have been smiling at each other, but only one of you is clawing through the walls of their mind trying their best not to leave the room right this moment. You're not an adversary, he reminds himself. You're not an enemy.

"I can't teach you that." He stares in an unusually cold tone, sending shivers down your spine. A tone Aventurine reserves for when a business deal has gone wry, for when he needs to put on his best performance and come back at the top. Unfortunately, this means there's no room for you to argue, no negotiations, no nothing.

You realize a bit too late that you've made him uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry" Apologies keep flowing from your mouth, but Aventurine can barely hear them. All he knows is the warning bells in his ears are growing fainter, and you are once more becoming recognizable, the blur in your face diminishing by the second.

"It's okay," he laughs softly, ruffling your hair to dispel the gloom on your face.

"I don't remember much anyway- I can't teach you anything meaningful, you know? I think Tanti or any of the likes would do much better for your next research material than my native language. We have a reputation across the cosmos anyway, that language can't be intriguing to people."

"Huh?" You tilt your head in confusion, "I'm not going to write a paper on it though???"

"Then what did you want to learn it for?"

"Did you not hear me? I said I wanted to get to know you better."

The feeling of discomfort is back with that, and Aventurine finds himself trying to figure out how to come up with a valid excuse to end the conversation. If he isn't careful, you'll catch on. And if you catch on, you'll keep insisting on trying to understand him, to mend your mistakes and to avoid something similar in future. Then, he'd simply have to cut you off before you go too far. And he'd rather not cut you off and keep you by his side. Yes please, thanks.

You speak once more, but this time you avert your gaze from his eyes and focus on the soft carpet beneath your feet. "If you're not comfortable teaching me, I won't insist. I apologize if I overstepped. I want you to know that my intentions were not malicious. I simply wanted to learn your language so that we could converse in it, and I'm open to sharing my own language with you if you're interested."

Ah. You've now started to speak with more formal and eloquent words than usual, a habit Aventurine has picked up on thanks to observing you for so many years. You always do that when nervous, along with averting eye contact- and you're now anxious.

"it's okay," he reassures you again. "I know what you mean. So no need to worry, hm?"

His words seem to have given you a confidence boost, because your next words catch him off guard again.

"Also, I found your language to be quite beautiful."

"....Beautiful?"

"Yes," you gesture with your hands as you continue, "it's very melodious, you know? I'm familiar with the Sigonian language, as it was one of the languages I studied during my major. However, the Avgin dialect sounds... different. Of course, you're a very quiet mumbler—obviously— and I couldn't understand much- but I've realized that the Avgin is not only is not only significantly different from standard Sigonian, but it also has a much sweeter sound. As a linguist, it's disheartening to think that this sweetness has gone unnoticed by the world."

The initial panic has completely dissipated for Aventurine, replaced by a sadness even he can't place what for. He has half a mind to laugh, and tell you that his people were sweet too, but no one cared for that either. He wants to say of course it sounded sweeter, the standard Sigonian had always been dry and lacking the warmth, any Avgin would agree with you. And yet, he dares not let the dam loose.

Instead of voicing his thoughts, he decides to observe you, as the ringing in his ears has now completely silenced. The you in front of his eyes is meek, likely because you've assumed you overstepped and made him upset. He hates seeing that expression on you: truly, especially when you shouldn't have to feel that guilt. He knows you well enough to know you're not lying, and for a split second— he entertains the idea of sharing the sweetness of his language with you, to have someone else who can understand his tongue.

He decides it's not an entirely uncomfortable thought.

It has been a few weeks since he agreed to teach you the Avgin dialect, and he still finds it surprising that he made that decision. Everything related to the Avgins and their culture is dear to him, including his people, his family, and of course, kakavasha; he protects them with all of his being. However, for some reason, he has chosen to share this delicate and intimate part of himself with you. After all, he is the last known surviving Avgin—this is more than personal; it's his mother tongue, for goodness' sake!

You've proven yourself to be a very very dedicated student, absorbing every piece of information he imparts like a sponge. Aventurine is unsure of how to teach you, as he himself is losing touch with his language thanks to not speaking it for years. Because of you, he now thinks more in Avgin and realizes how much he thought he had forgotten but still remembered, and how much he thought he remembered but had forgotten.

But it's nice, to be greeted in his language whenever you two come across each other. You're still cheerful and sparkling as before, but now you can greet him in his language. «Hello, how's your day going!!!» You ask him each time, with that accent and broken words that makes you sound childish more than anything. But Aventurine could care less about that; he's quick to greet you back each time, adding a new word so you learn something from each interaction.

You've told him that he's much much more expressive whenever speaking Avgin, but he tries not to think about it.

"Manro means bread," Aventurine informs you, observing quietly as you eagerly jot it down in your notepad. "I quite like the feel of pen and paper," you told him once, and he still can't comprehend why that's preferable to typing on a screen instead.

"Mañro?" you repeat, and he has to conceal an affectionate smile at your accent. It's unfamiliar and odd, but not disliked. Never disliked.

"Manro." He corrects, and you get it down this time.

"So….«manro» means bread and you said…«pani» meant water? So let's say I wanna talk about my lunch….«I water with bread eat?» Is that how you say it?"

Aventurine purses his lips, trying to appear serious. "No, it's «I ate bread with water.» But what's with that meal choice? That can't be good for you."

You only huff in response, "hey— I'm still learning okay!! How do you say wine?"

"Mol"

"Mol— how about wanting to drink or taste?"

Aventurine raises an eyebrow, "Zumavel"

"Okok. So…. «I want to taste wine really bad. Might die.»"

Aventurine snickers at that, turning his gaze away to avoid receiving another punch from you. Despite the fact that you've opted for this inefficient learning method—since he can't provide proper grammar lessons—the sentences you're coming up with are hilarious.

"Not quite. It's «I want to drink wine so bad that I might die»" he corrects you again, and you let out an embarrassed laugh to write the correct structure down. You've promised him you'll figure out the grammatical structure and everything to him after all. And he can't say he's not hoping you actually will.

"How do you say eye?"

"Just like how you say in standard Sigonian"

"Ohhh….I've noticed that body part names are usually unchanged in the Avgin dialect. How about warmth?"

"We call it tato" he smiles at you, and your cheeks tint the faintest hue of pink as you look away.

"«Your eyes—»" you purse your lips, thinking hard to form the structure "«-Are warm right now. Very warm.»"

Aventurine's eyes widen, and for a moment he's speechless; unable to comprehend how and why. But you're blushing, and playing with the hem of your shirt, which means at the very least you aren't lying.

«I'm afraid you've become my heart» He says under his breath, the words escaping his mouth before he can even stop them. It tastes sweet in his tongue, memories of a time long gone resurfacing. He didn't even remember that saying, up until now. And now, he has a little more understanding of how sweet his mother tongue really is.

"What does that mean?" You ask him, and he merely smiles at that.

"Nothing. I just said thank you."

A/N : gah I'm sorry for that word vomit I can't stop thinking about it....like one been thinking for months about his language and what it might mean for him now that he's (presumably) the only avgin left. My mother tongue has PLENTY of dialects, and there are certain ones that are totally different from the standard (I don't understand some of those) so I kind of projected....and other than that I hope it wasn't too bad omg

[leafostuff]

Her money dont jiggle jiggle (but her boobs sure do) [FT. Lightsum Nayoung]

Tags: Smut, Quickie, Titjob, Dirty Talk, Hooker!Nayoung, BFH-ish,

Author's Note: Part of @i-am-lifeform24's Project, was supposed to be a standalone smut but I figured that the idea is best for this project and he was kind enough to let me into it late, this counts as my July upload

thank you, and hope you will enjoy this fic

================================================

"So? You are the next customer?"

You gulp, not sure what to say to the beautiful girl in front of you, her clothes resemble the look of a popular college girl: a frilly white lace corset top that revealed her surprisingly cute belly and navel, paired with a denim skirt that left her thighs exposed for you to see.

Meanwhile you were just sitting there, nearvous and shirtless since those were the rules of the club, "Uhh yeah... here's the receipt" you answer, its obvious you are trying your hardest not to stare at her chest while you hand her the recipt, you still a bit surprised that you were convinced by your friends to spend 100$ on this new club, but the premise of real kpop idols being hookers was the nail in the coffin to get you to come.

As the girl finishes scanning the recipt she throws it to the side, "Okay good enough" she says nonchalantly while she gets closer, making you feel nervous by the second, and you are not the only one as just a look from her toward your pants causing her cleavage to displayed to you forms an erection, rolling her eyes she says in a tired voice, "whatever, let's get this over”

One swift motion and her top is thrown to the side, wearing no bra as instead her breast reveal their true form to you, almost freeze in place from the spectacle in front of you, however no time to waste about admiring them as she goes in to straddle your lap while her hands now work on taking off your belt from your own jeans, giving you a little wink during the process.

After what feels an eternity (Or maybe that girl is really into strip teasing you) your cock is finally released from your pants, standing long and hard in front of her eyes, “Not bad…not bad” she quietly mutters as she hops off your lap and kneels in front of you, “you mind if i…” she asks.

“Uh…sure?” you are a bit surprised that a hooker asks you in the first place considering how she didn't ask for your opinion when she straddled you and took your pants off, but regardless she laughs at your response while she lowers herself toward you.

However you didn't expect her to grab her tits with both hands and let them envelope around your member, her eyes lock into yours with a big grin as she begins her work, rubbing her chest up and down on your cock, each up causes her tits to fully hide your tip while each down she lightly slams her chest onto your thighs while her lips lean in closer giving your mow exposed tip a small kiss, sending tingles to your brain that make your moans to grow larger in response.

“Oh i love how you are so nearvous, it's adorable” she says, eyes still on you meanwhile you are looking at the ceiling, “And how you are so hard for me even though i am just getting started” she adds, try to look down at her but your vision is now blurry from the amount of pleasure you receive from her

“Nngh” is the only thing you manage to mutter as the rest of your attempted sounds turn into unintelligible moans, meanwhile your hands hold the fabric of the sofa you are on, each movement of hers drives you insane while she can't help but giggle.

“I can't wait for you to release all of that cum in there all over my tits, just let yourself loose while i will drain you from all of that cum” Her dirty talk is deadly while her pace is getting quicker and her smile grows wider at each rock

“Yes yes yes, come on i can feel it on your balls, release it, you know you want it,~”

And that's the final blow for you and as an expert at her job she knows it, so just as you are about to cum she lets her lips latch themselves into your tip and as strings of cum flows into her mouth you could feel yourself getting relieved by the second.

Finally she releases her mouth from you while she rises up from the position, “Oh wow, that was… *sigh* surprisingly fun” she says, catching her breath while she cleans some leftover cum from her face and tits, some of it she takes with two fingers and puts inside her mouth while she beams a smile at you with a confident wink

Look at the time, you could swear that an eternity passed from the moment she started pleasuring you but in reality it's only been 15 minutes, and it seems those 15 minutes were not enough for her.

“So… I have some time left before my next customer and usually I would have kicked you out to get ready but…” she stops, giving you time to finally gain your composure and look at her again, now taking her hands work on taking her denim skirt and hot pink panties off her body, now leaving herself fully naked in front of you.

“Since you are kinda cute and VERY big, I don't mind having some more fun, so what do you say?”

She asks, once again she straddles your lap but this time her back is facing toward you leaving her ass in full display in front of you only centimetres away from your cock getting inside, meanwhile both her hands grab yours, taking them toward body as she leaves each of you palm at her naked chest as by instinct you let your hands grab each tit.

“Ready for the real fun?” She looks back, another wink coming at you as it seems almost aphrodisiac how her winks get your member hard again.

=================================

Posted at July 14th, 2024

[loveanddeepdick]

gummy dummy ᯓᡣ𐭩

childhood bff!yuta okkotsu x f!reader || part 2 to gummy bear fic

warnings: none! there’s no real plot it’s just short dabbles of domestic fluff + suggestive at some parts. yuta is a bit of a perv (he steals your panties and just loooves watching you) >.<

summary: it’s been months after you and yuta had reunited and after you two became official after the long night of pent up sex. he moved in with you which only made sense and you two became intertwined again in each others lives. but how have you two been doing?

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

“yuuu!!” you called out to him from the kitchen of your shared apartment, “help me open this jar!!”.

thankfully, he helped you unpack your belongings into the apartment, moving his things in shortly after as well. however, his small secret was that he made the jars extra, extra tight. knowing your little corporate job didn’t require you to be physically strong so he took advantage of it, being there to open every jar, every container, and every bottle. he just found it cute.

“coming, gummy bear” he called out, his calm voice drawing closer as his soft footsteps approached, pressing into your back as he enveloped you. “need help again?”.

you nodded as you watched him open the jar with easy, smiling happily as you took it from him. sending him off to go back to whatever he was doing with a kiss.

“thanks, yu!”

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

you noticed after a while, your panties had gone missing one by one. well, there was only one culprit; your quiet and calm boyfriend who you already knew was a pervert deep down.

you knew he had them, you just had no clue where he put them. you searched everywhere, his sock drawer, under the bed, in the bathroom, cabinets, everything. then you had a small lightbulb moment. you knew he kept a box in his closet, full of memories of you two when you were younger. it was full of trinkets, letters, photos, everything. you opened it with a victorious grin which grew to annoyance. what a pervert!!!

“yuta okkotsu! get your ass in here right!! now!!” you called out to him from your shared bedroom. he quickly rushed in, knowing you only used his full name in serious situations. he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you standing, hand on your hip, the other one holding the box which was supposed to hold only nostalgic memories, filled with your used, dirty panties.

“care to explain, hm?”

he smiled sheepishly, knowing he was in for a ride when you grabbed him by his wrist, pulling him onto the bed.

“gummy bear, please go easy on me.. i couldn’t help it!”

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

saying your parents were overjoyed when you revealed that not only were you back in touch with yuta, but dating him as well, was a big understatement. they begged you two to come visit so you did.

you brought him back to your childhood home and he was greeted by open arms by your parents, bombarding him with questions of where he’d been, how we even met again, and doting on him for how handsome he’d grown to be.

“you’ve grown into a fine, young man!” you dad proudly chided, patting his back as he led him inside.

“oh, yuta, you look so different! your hairs so long! i am just so happy it’s you coming back to our home and not this rowdy girl’s stupid guys she kept bringing home!” your mom sent you a playful glare back. you saw yuta slightly tense up at the mention of it, but you rubbed his arm in a comforting manner, easing him again.

you four were all sitting in the living room, listening to yuta run through the past couple years, telling them about his trip to africa when your mom accidentally let her thoughts slip out,

“so! when are you giving us a grandbaby?”, your mom smiled.

yuta nearly fainted.

[pasteldreams]

all i want - m.s.

pairing: bsf!matt sturniolo x reader

summary: matt doesn't know how to deal with his feelings for his best friend

cw: (resolved) angst, crying, cursing, self-deprecating comments, texts, friends to lovers, kissing

a/n: happy holidays friends! this is my first written piece! don't expect too much, but i hope you enjoy lol

based on- driving by dwllrs (lyrics in bold)

word count: ~2k

all i want, all i need,

all i dream, i need you next to me.

what do i want? what do i need?

what do i dream? i need you next to me

 

"are you sure you don't want to go out with us? we're gonna be gone for a while, you don't just want to come for a bit?" nick asks, unsure about leaving his sulking brother alone even for just a few hours.

"yeah, i'll be fine, just leave already." matt rolls his eyes starting to lose his patience with his brothers, who looked down at him as he laid on the couch.

"are you going to text her? weren't you supposed to hang out with her tonight?" chris asks tentatively.

matt's eyes shift, looking straight ahead before going out of focus.

'why'd he have to bring her up?' matt thought, suddenly stuck in his own mind. 'he knows why I can't just text her, why I can't ask her to come over, why i-'

"look bro," chris says, interrupting matt's spiraling thoughts. "she's your best friend. don't push her away just because you have feelings for her."

"can you guys just shut the fuck up about it? I know how she feels about me. I heard her say we're just friends, so why can't you both just leave me the fuck alone?"

"woah, kid. take it down a notch, okay? we know you're upset, but, first of all, you haven't even told her how you feel, and, second of all, she's right. you are just friends because, news flash, you haven't talked to her about it or literally anything for that matter." nick harshly reminds him.

matt sits in frustrated silence as chris opens his mouth to speak. "kid, she's texted me like a hundred times asking if you're okay and what she did wrong. you're scared of losing her, but you're not doing a great job of keeping her, dude."

"whatever," matt responds, opening his phone pretending to scroll through Instagram in hopes they'd get the hint to leave him the fuck alone.

"the uber's outside, so this is your last chance to not spend your night alone in whatever shitty mood this is." nick offers, only receiving silence in response.

 

driving alone

thinking 'bout the times, wrongs were feeling right

'cause you were never mine, i know

i'm lost inside my mind

it happens all the time, when it happens, I wanna go

 

once his brothers left, matt sat as his feelings began to suffocate him. his chest tightened as your words echoed through his mind.

‘am i dating matt? oh, no, we're just friends.'

he felt like running, like driving, like escaping to some other reality. a reality where you knew how he felt, where you felt the same, and, most importantly, a reality where you were his.

matt stood up, his surroundings feeling more like a dream than his own home, as his unsteady legs carried him to the door. he grabbed his keys and he made his way to his car. his mind was too overwhelmed by emotion to have a plan of where he would go once he started the engine.

 

sunsets always hold me, i only go driving when i'm lonely

i wanna go cry, my feelings always leave

i'm running towards a dream that i'll never reach

 

as the engine started, matt felt hot tears begin to roll down his cheeks. he pulled onto the street as he continued thinking of a world where you loved him back. a world that, realistically, could never exist. because you were smart and funny and caring and loveable. and he was just matt… your friend, just as you had clarified.

matt watched the sunset fade as the colors flew past his windows. after what felt like hours trapped inside the hellscape of his racing mind, he felt the car slow to a stop, his body functioning on autopilot. and there he was. parked outside of your apartment.

matt reminisced on all the times he took the same drive to see you. he remembered the nights he spent next to you on the couch, your eyes fixed on whatever film was playing as his eyes were glued to you. he remembered later on those same nights as he gently combed through your hair and traced your soft features while you slept through the movie you had initially been so eager to watch. he didn't mind you falling asleep. quite the opposite actually. he cherished those quiet moments with you, the moments where he could admire you in the way he wished he could while you were awake.

 

all i want, all i need,

all i dream, i need you next to me.

what do i want? what do i need?

what do i dream? i need you next to me

 

suddenly, he felt his hands reaching for his phone. 'what am i doing?' he thought, opening his messaging app. he clicked the name pinned to the top of his screen, your name, opening a thread of 32 unread texts asking what was wrong and pleading for him to respond. more tears threatened to spill as he read your most recent text.

'what the fuck am i doing?' he groans as he closes his phone and lays his head on the top of the steering wheel. 'god, i'm so stupid. i should've never texted her. i should just go ho-.' he sat up, suddenly interrupted by a familiar sound, your text tone.

 

matt felt his heart pounding as his eyes locked onto the screen, his mind racing.

'she's gonna ask what's wrong and what the fuck am i going to say? sorry, i ignored you because i'm in love with you? that's so fucking stupid, i'm so fucking stupid.'

he combs a shaky hand through his tangled hair before resting his forehead back against the steering wheel. the sound of soft taps to the passenger window causes him to jolt up. there you were.

matt's wide eyes take in your messy hair and red eyes. it takes another tap on the window for him to snap out of his trance long enough to unlock the door.

you slide into the passenger seat, the sound of the door closing slicing through the heavy silence. your body faces his while your eyes remain glued to your fidgeting hands. tears spill over matt's lashes as the guilt of how he treated you hits him. he can't stand the way your sad eyes avoid his matching ones. he buries his face in his hands, releasing the emotions that have built up inside him since he overheard your painful but truthful words.

"matt?" your voice cracks wanting to cure his sadness but not knowing what caused it.

"i- fuck." he chokes out through sobs.

"what's wrong? what happened?"

"i just- i fucked up, and i'm so sorry. i should've texted you. i'm so stupid" he says between deep, shaky breaths.

you gently brush through his hair waiting for him to calm down enough to hear you over his ragged breathing. once he's calm enough to face you, he lifts his face up, making eye contact with your soft eyes.

"hey," you give him a soft, yet sad smile

"i'm sorry," he whispers, tears threatening to spill again. "i shouldn't have ignored you."

"i know."

"i uh i missed y-"

"did I do something to hurt you?" you blurt out, unable to keep the question in any longer.

"no," he sighs looking down, "well, i don't know."

"you don't know?"

he could've lied at this point and said that it had nothing to do with you, that he was just stressed about work or his brothers, but he knew you wouldn't forget his hint that you were somehow related to his sadness.

"i-" he clears his throat bringing his eyes back to yours but struggling to maintain eye contact with your intense gaze. "i heard you say something about me to some girls."

"about you?" you questioned, wondering what you could've said to have hurt him so badly.

"yeah," he states simply, with no further explanation.

"when? what girls? what did i say? I would never say anything bad about you."

"no, it wasn't- i just-" he stutters as you stare at him with a mixture of confusion and frustration plastered across your face. "i heard you say we were friends."

you stare at him blankly as rage builds inside of you.

"are you kidding?" you spit

"no," he says quietly

"i've been crying for days wondering if you were okay, only to find out you did all of this because i told some people we were friends? are we not friends then?" your anger slowly turns to sadness. your voice shakes as you feel your heart sink. "because i-"

"no no no, we are friends! i just mean-" he sighs and pulling at his hair as he gathers his thoughts. "we are friends. but I don't want to be," he scans your face as your tears begin to fall rapidly.

'he doesn't want to be friends anymore? after years of movie nights and game nights with his brothers and late night drives, he just decides he doesn't want to be friends?' your mind struggles to grasp the concept of losing him.

"i don't want to be your friend anymore because i want to be more." your faces turns from heart break to confusion as he continues speaking.

"what i'm trying to say is…" he takes another deep shaky breath. "i want to be yours" he confesses. "your boyfriend, i mean. i want to be your boyfriend" he clarifies with a short awkward laugh. "but i know you don't feel the same, and, even if you did, i probably ruined any chance i had by pulling this shit." he references his avoidant behavior. as he looks up at you, he panics not being able to decipher your expression. "can you say something?"

"you really are stupid.”

"huh?" he says, taken back by your harsh words.

"you could've just fucking told me instead of treating me like shit.”

"i know… i know. i'm really sorry i just didn't know how and I didn't want to ruin anyt-"

"i would've told you i liked you back.”

suddenly matt's eyes shoot up to yours, searching your eyes for some indication on if you were telling the truth.

"you what?'

"matt, i've tried telling you so many times, our friends have told you, and i'm sure your brothers have mentioned it at some point. you just never made a move or reciprocated any of it, so i figured you didn't feel the same way about me.”

"no no no, god no. fuck. i can't even explain the way i feel about you." his eyes drift off as he rambles on nervously. "you make me feel safe and warm and happy, like so fucking happy, and i just-"

his eyes train back on yours, realizing how close you both were.

"i just want to kiss you," he breathes out softly.

"you want to kiss me?" you ask still unsure if this is all a dream. he nods.

"can i? can I kiss you?" it was your turn to nod anxiously as his face slowly moves towards yours until you feel his breath fan across your lips

"god, you're beautiful, is this really okay? you really want me to kiss you? it’s okay if y-" he rambles on.

"are you going to kiss me or not, matthew?" he smiles at your sassiness, cupping your face gently before closing the space between you.

as his lips meet yours, the unspoken words and pent-up frustrations disappear, leaving only the feeling of his soft lips and warm hands.

as you begin to pull away from the kiss, matt whispers, "no, wait. i need you next to me," pulling you back into him.

🏷️ taglist: @y3sterdaysproblem, @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan

reply/msg/inbox to be added to taglist!

play button divider by @enchanthings-a and leaf divider by @anitalenia

[naffeclipse]

naff plz, I'm weak and and I hunger 👀

Turns out I am too. This was supposed to only be 500 words. Now we're here smh

Minnow

Reader x Shark!Eclipse

Content Warning for suggestive themes.

———

You have a problem on your hands.

Sitting on the edge of a sea-salt slick rock in your dark wetsuit, the ocean breeze sweeping your hair into tangles, you stare. A whale carcass sits heavy and rotting. The edges of the waves roll up on the flat, tan sand of your seaside home and tug at the giant, dead beast, but one fin is only loosened slightly before the water returns without its passenger. The scent of a festering body hangs in the air and coats the back of your throat.

A sharp fin cuts through the wave farther from shore. You glance at it, but whatever fish swims near dives below, out of sight.

You turn back to the very big problem. It will ruin the beach for the tourists. You’re a council member only in name—more of a glorified intern, despite your best efforts to not only fetch coffee. Whenever there’s a job that doesn’t involve sitting inside around a table, away from the heat and humidity of a summery, oceanic day, it’s pushed into your lap to fix.

You have no idea how to remove a 40-ton whale from the sands.

Your right leg slips off of the rock and your foot splashes into the sea. Before you can fix your stance, tug your knees up to balance on the rock while the tide splashes at the base of your little watery perch, a clawed hand seizes your ankle.

A sharp gasp rips from you. Ripped downwards, you brace yourself, screwing your eyes shut as the ocean water rushes up your body, but something plants itself on either side of you. Pinned to the rock, you shiver at the fresh touch of the sea lapping at your ribs. Your feet barely find the purchase of sand. A shadow falls over your eyelids, and a soft hum spins through the breeze.

“Hello,” a voice growls deep, rumbling through the air and brushing against it. “Might I ask why you’re frowning so much?”

You slowly pry open one eye, then the other before your jaw loosens in wonder and fear. 

A creature looms above you. His head is wide and flat, colored a dark gray. Strange cartilaginous fins frame his head in a crown of sharp, red, and black spikes. The moment you gawk, he flashes a dangerous row of curved teeth with serrated edges. The very breath catches in your throat while his arms, sleek and barred with burnt red stripes, hold you against the sleek rock. 

Your eyes fall down his body. His lithe frame melts from a very human torso into the body of a predatory fishtail—a shark. His underside is pale gray while his back is dark, bearing a wicked dorsal fin with the same barred patterns down his sides in burnt red. Just below the surface, you catch a swishing of a caudal fin. Long and pointed, it cuts through the ocean as if it were mere seafoam.

“What—who are you?” you sputter. Your hands hold defensively to your chest while you return to his unearthly but memorizing face. His eyes burn low in a sharp orange light. 

“I am Eclipse.” He lifts one hand from the rock. A dark talon tips his long, thin finger before he hooks your chin, tilting your head up. The sharp edge teases your skin with how easily it can slice you. You swallow apprehension. His eyes fall to your throat, his teeth flashing in the sunlight. “And I asked you a question.”

Your pulse picks up in your ears, beating double time against the tide. What did he ask you? The echo of his words returns. You slowly form an ‘O’ with your lips.

“I’m not, um, frowning?” Certainly not now, if the terror you hide behind says anything. You curl your fingers into tight balls. “Were you watching me?”

The strange man-fish chuckles a low sound—as if you’re very silly. “I was. You’re quite a lovely sight, perched on this rock like a seabird. But you seemed troubled. You still do.”

He slowly forces your head to tilt this way and that, moving you under the sunlight while he examines you with his piercing gaze. You let him, utterly, horribly confused about how this all came to be. Does he intend to devour you like a tiger shark? Or is it a very strange ‘hello’?

A hum of satisfaction arises, but he is no less intrigued by what he’s captured in his hand. You try to turn away but he holds firm and clicks his tongue.

“There is still something vexing you” he concludes, “Tell me, so I might make it right.”

You almost level a look at him, as if the very interesting occurrence of a fish-man grabbing you and pulling you into the water isn’t vexing enough, but mind your manners. His claws press along your mouthbone. Your heart beats heavy in your chest, against the splashing waters, but your eyes flick towards the beach. Eclipse follows your gaze with narrowed eyes.

“Dead whale,” you say, hoping he doesn’t decide to cut your face with his claws, “I need it off the beach, but, um, I’m not sure how to do that.”

“Oh,” he laughs, and you stop to soak in the echo of his shoulder, melodic and growling. “Is that all? A simple solution, minnow, but I do ask for a small token in return for my help.”

You stiffen. A skip in your chest sends a coldness into your legs and fingertips. You look down, staring at the thin corded strength of his chest, the lissom power of his tail, and how easily he could drag you out to sea should you not give an answer he wants to hear.

How could a herculean task be so easy in his eyes? You almost don’t believe him.

“Minnow,” he rumbles softly and forces your head up higher to capture your gaze. You shiver in the brine. “It’s nothing to be afraid of. I will help you, and you will give me what I desire.”

Desire can be very, very dangerous.

“I’m not giving you people’s souls or whatever,” you say firmly, even if your eyes grow wet with terror. 

Eclipse swipes a thumb along your cheek, wetting it with sea salt and foam. His grin stretches wide until you see into his massive jaws.

“What use would I have of souls?” His tongue swipes over his row of serrated teeth. “No, I want something much more tangible.”

He squeezes your mouth softly until your lips are pushed into a pout, and realization jolts straight into your stomach. A dreaded blood rush fills your cheeks. You burn. Eclipse tilts his head, his eyes widening, flashing with the hunger of a shark in the depths.

“What do you want?” you whisper, your eyelids trembling as you nearly squeeze them shut again.

He leans in closer. You smell the sharp tang of iron and salt upon his breath.

“Seven kisses.”

Your eyes fly open, relieved and mortified. Unfurling your fingers, you try to shake your head but your jaw remains caught in the vice of his grips.

“Seven?” You sputter before spewing, “That’s—that’s a lot!”

“It’s a perfectly natural amount for the task I will undertake for you.” He draws the pad of his finger down the line of your jaw. A shiver overtakes your shoulders as you close your eyes for a heartbeat.

“And if I say no?” you ask quietly, watching him in the way you fear a minnow might watch a shark. 

He leans back. The corners of his mouth pull down.

“Then we shall both be disappointed, and I will leave.”

Your mind whirls at the thought—an easy ‘no’, but you don’t know if you trust him. Why would he do such a task? Why kisses of all things? Will he turn you into a fish after the seventh one? Will he devour you when you get too close? 

“How do I know you’re not going to eat me or down me or something?” you ask, pushing past the rattle in your throat.

Eclipse chuckles but there’s much less mirth in the echo, and your gut twists within you.

“If I wanted to take a bite out of you, I would have forgone the introductions.” His smile spreads wide. 

A cold, unflinching intuition within you agrees.

“Got it,” you murmur. “Just, uh, no biting, okay?”

He looms over you. His claws take you by the shoulders and hold you tighter to the rock. Your lungs freeze. Your rapid pulse fills your head in the same way you hear ocean waves when you hold a seashell up to your ear. 

“Minnow, do you accept my price?” Eclipse’s thumbs rub circles into your wetsuit.

He did not agree to your no-biting rule. Still, you swallow roughly and try to find some sensibility in agreeing to give a fish man kisses. The dead whale will be gone if Eclipse is true to his word. And it’s only a kiss—seven of them.

You press your lips together and close your eyes.

“I do,” you say. You open them again. “How do you want to do this? All at once or—”

A sharp flick of a tail pushes Eclipse against you. A bleeding blush takes over your face, pinned between him and the rock as he gathers your face in his hands. He holds your gaze, orange eyes blazing like a sunset. Your chest heaves. Water laps up against you as his pinky finger brushes against your throat. 

“Slowly,” he answers, voice lowering into a husky growl, “One by one.”

Your insides bubble at the sight of his teeth. A tumble of your heart knocks into your ribs. He lowers himself closer until you close your eyes. The ocean tugs at both of you but he keeps you firmly in place. His lips touch yours. A taste of something sharp and brackish spills into your mouth and you make a soft sound in the back of your throat. He purrs. The vibration touches you before he gently pushes and pulls against your lips like the tide. He gives and he takes, swallowing your affection. A hungry touch of his tongue swipes the inside of your mouth. You find your hands falling to his shoulders and holding on as if upon a lifesaver, lost out at sea.

Then he unhooks his jaws and frees you. A taste of sea salt remains on your tongue. You gasp softly, realizing how much fresh air you crave after his kiss. Your head falls back against the rock as your lungs heave. He still holds above you, tall and towering, but content.

Eclipse's eyes are half-lidded, gentle in his gaze as his claw gently brushes your bottom lip. His tongue swipes back over his own teeth as if savoring the taste of your flesh.

“Thank you for the kiss,” he rasps. “The whale carcass will be gone come morning light.”

“Okay,” you give, still lost in the salty haze the impression of his mouth left on you, “What about the other kisses?”

“Soon, minnow,” he gives with a sharp grin. “I will call upon you soon.”

He takes you by the hips. You gasp, your hands flying to his arms as he lifts you effortlessly out of the water and sets you back upon the rock. You sit, dripping in your stupor, eyes wide at how easily his palms fit over your waist. He rests his talons on the slick edge. His orange eyes upturn as he smiles one last time.

“Goodbye,” he growls gently. His teeth flash as he slips down, and you catch the full length of his impressive tail and sharp, pointed fins. A sharp flip of his body turns him in an instant, the water bending to his whim, and he slowly swims. The tip of his dorsal carries over the waves until at last, he disappears into the depth.

And you are left sitting with a pink heat in your face and a ghostly tang behind your teeth. His kiss leaves you spellbound.

You have an entirely new problem on your hands.

[violettwrites]

american teenagers — intro.

next

helloooooo my loves!!! here’s an intro into my comeback fic, american teenagers! i sat on this idea for a little while during my tiny break and i honestly couldn’t get it out of my head. i was heavily inspired by ethel cain for the vibes of it all, hence the name :)

please bear with me in all this as i do get easily overwhelmed and experience burnout very quickly but you guys are always supportive so i have no doubts!!

i’m not sure when the first chapter will be out, but i’m slowly working on it as i am very excited for you guys to read it! lots of love xx

the summer of 1987 was supposed to feel different. everyone in town kept saying it— teachers, parents, the tired voices on the radio between commercials. they said it like graduating highschool meant anything would actually change. but for the kids in the trailer park on the outskirts of town, it wasn’t much more than another hot season stretched out between long days and longer nights. the same parties by the lake, and the same dreams about escaping that no one really believed in.

the days were always the same for you. early mornings at the gas station counter, and evenings at the diner pouring coffee for truckers passing through. anything to keep you out of your father’s path really. your nights were often spent on the roof of your trailer, a cigarette in one hand and a notebook full of half-finished plans and dreams in the other. for daryl, the boy you had known since he was a scrawny little thing with clothes too big for him, it was merle’s shadow and busted knuckles, endless hours fixing bikes and cars in the sun while dreaming of roads that led anywhere but this small town.

you couldn’t remember a time when daryl dixon wasn’t around. his trailer was only three down from yours. you had been inseparable since the day you caught him standing by the broken fence of the trailer park, segregating the southside of town from the rest of the townspeople. the two of you had seemed like an odd pair to everyone else— daryl’s constant silence and smoldering anger along with your rough edges and restless energy —but somehow, it worked.

the summer after highschool felt like your last chance to figure out if those dreams the two of your had whispered about on those late night drives would ever come true. but the weight of this small town— the trailers, the jobs that paid barely enough to keep the lights on and your fathers off your backs, the scars you didn’t talk about —it all hung heavy between the both of you.

you didn’t really realise it at first, the way your feelings for daryl had shifted. it wasn’t a lightning bolt or this big grand revelation in your head. it was slower than that, like the way the heat crept up during june, making itself known in those hazy afternoons and the sweat dripping down your back. you started to notice those small things— how his voice softened when he talked to you, or the way his shoulders relaxed when the two of you were alone. you couldn’t pin point when it changed, only that it had.

daryl wasn’t any better at handling it either. he’d always thought of you as the one person who saw him for more than what people whispered about the dixons— trailer park trash, troublemakers, destined for nothing. you didn’t flinch at the bruises he didn’t explain, or the scars he wouldn’t talk about. you were his anchor, his light. but now, everytime you smiled at him or touched his arm, it felt like something inside him was breaking apart and putting itself back together all at once.

that summer wasn’t just about the heat, the bad decisions, or the endless nights spent sitting under a starless sky. it was about the weight of knowing you could only hold onto each other for so long before something— or someone —pulled you apart.

neither of you had the words to say it yet, but you both knew: the end of your childhood was here, and whatever seemed to come next would either bring you both closer or tear you apart for good.

if you enjoyed this, please give it a like/reblog! your support always means the world to me 🫶🏻

stay tuned for the first chapter! if you’d like me to add a tag list, comment below!

[occamstfs]

Chauffeur Swap

Another epistolary TF ! Cocky office worker to an equally cocky gym bro, trait swap + IQ Drain aplenty -Occam

Monday May 6th

Morning 

I’m beyond thrilled that I’m finally being looked at for a promotion. I’ve worked my ass off for this company ever since I graduated and I am not going to let this chance slip through my fingers. It’s such a good gig, in the week leading up to them filling the position they’re letting us use the company’s chauffeurs as just one little hint of the luxury this promotion will afford us.

At least, that’s what I thought before my driver arrived to pick me up and I saw what a slob of a man my driver was! I mean my word! I thought it was a prank or something else untoward! I’m sure he could tell too, I could not muster even a shy smile, nothing to do but grimace. God and that was before I got in! He must have just been an Uber hired or something because it smelled like a locker room in there! Truly vile!

God willing this is a one off occurrence, hate to get the oaf in trouble. Though judging by the state of his hygiene though he clearly needs to be taught a lesson somehow! I mean even with this job I couldn't afford to buy cologne enough to hide that stink- perhaps some dog-strength febreze- Ha!

Evening

Godddd fuck! The last thing I needed after such a stressful day was to be greeted by that animal’s face- worse yet, his SCENT! I underestimated just how grueling this interview charade would be. It is just one final hurdle to the big leagues though. I will leave petty contrivances like suffering through this unpleasant car ride behind.

Just to make the time pass with greater speed I put forth some small talk. Not like I could hold my breath near long enough to make a difference, and it couldn’t hurt to vent about what a hassle the day had been hm? After this though he started talking about himself and fwoh- could I not care less about whatever surely protein-fart based drivel or beer-brained diatribe he launched into. 

Perhaps this is unfair, I did not deign to listen to him. So perhaps he’s better than he seems. But who could blame me, sitting in that car was punishment enough to earn me tuning him out. And! And! For him to have the benefit of the doubt surely he could at least wear deodorant! Hm. Unless he is trying? God that would be depressing, to be so, ugh- I continue to hold out hope I never see him again

Tuesday May 7th

Morning

Mm, I simply must develop a better poker face if I am to continue to suffer in this odor for the week, god forbid even longer- I have prepared accordingly however, yesterday no one mentioned it at work but I swear I kept smelling it, him, all day? Same when I got home, just everytime I calmed down from work bam! I smelled this horrid car ride. I am bringing my cologne to work with me, I plan to put it at lest once more when I arrive at work.

It’s just, Why is this my problem right! I don’t know what his problem is, but I don’t see why I have to suffer because of it right? I should not have to deal with someone like this, he’s supposed to be working for me. I uh, it’s not like I think I’m better than him I just, well I am better than him. Hm, I lost my train of thought. 

Ugh, I keep spacing out today- I’m sure it has to do with my twice-daily rides with, hm. I don’t even know his name. It’s? You know I don’t care. I just need to take it easy, I’m not letting this fucking dude-bro pitstain of a man bother me this much! I’m getting my bag and he is not worth a second further of my, uh, attention.

Evening

I have a headache and I don’t know how it is his fault but it has to be. This whole thing is setting me on edge, I need to chill about Ben. That’s right Ben! I got his name, I actually told him about my headache and he told me that he usually meditates to clear his mind- which crazy that someone so, despite all appearances, mindful treats his body like a sty but- Well not a sty I suppose, or at the very least a well built one- 

Ah, that’s not quite appropriate is it. God he is hot though. Honestly sitting there just breathing in his, uh, scent, helped with the headache. Wait no, it was the meditation, God, why can I not stop thinking of his fucking B.o. My headache was gone but now I feel I’m beginning to run a fever, or at the very least I need to turn down the AC or something-

Better not affect my work tomorrow.

Wednesday May 8th

Morning 

Not gonna be a good one. I fucking woke up late which ive literally never done before! I barely got myself up and ready in time and didn’t realize until the car but I didn’t bring my cologne with me. It turned out to be the least of my problems however as when I got in his car I fully spilled my coffee all over the backseat. Hopefully this will mask his putridity because I now have to sit in the front with him for the ride.

He must know. He has to know it has to be some kinda sick, uh, fetish or something. Its untendable untenable. god get your shit together Jacob. Its so hard to focus on anything else now that Im sitting right by him. I need to talk to someone about this, fuck its like hes exposing his pits on purpose. He wants me to stare at him, i bet. Bet he gets some sort of sick rise out of me. Im sure him and all the other chauffeurs probably get together and jack off about how repulsive and, uh, strong they all are.

God Fuck! Get me out of this car im losing my mind! Need to, ill just get some work done on the commute, should help i think. God its getting hot in here again or something, so help me if this fucker starts actively sweating im gonna lose it

Evening

i just couldnt get anything done today i dont know what was fucking up dude? it was just so hot in there and i mustve forgotten to put deodorant on this morning, people kept complaining but i didnt even notice? i guess i was sweating more than usual, but like, it was so hot in that office and my clothes felt weird, tight almost. As if tho, lol im sure no one even really noticed that i was off.

OH speaking of, Ben really put himself together on the ride home today. He was wearing a button up and everything, must have seen how nice im living and got his shit together! Maybe ive been to hard on the douche? nah car still smelled like shit haha! Or i think it did? didnt really notice it until like halfway thru?

Fuck my clothes are so tight all of a sudden, godd its so hot actually. I look fucking huge in this tiny little monkey suit- almost like Benjamin ha- as if id stoop so low, even if i started getting massive not like id be dum enough to be on his level lol

Thursday May 9th

Morning

Fuckin couldnt find ANYTHING this morning dude! it was like someone came in and took or hid everything i need for work today. ended up having to just fuckin leave for the car without a suit jacket- pretty sure ive got an extra in my office tho so were chill there. mm probably shouldve shaved tho lol

Oh yeah the files! i had some reports that i needed to bring in but totally couldnt find them! Turns out benjamin had them the whole time it was weird, guess i left them last night. but he was like such an ass about it, like he knows anything though the uh, jock, jerk uh. hes actually dressed better than me rn isnt he. Finally threw on a dress shirt, surely inspired by me haha- pulling it off quite well too, his chest hair peaking up through mm-

Fuckkk dude my cocks kinda getting hard looking at him, starting to smell musty in the car too, wait oh shit i didnt even notice that it didnt reek when i got in! weird that its starting to stink now tho whats up with that, looks like hes finally noticing tho ha! its nice to see him finally react to how bad my uh, no how I GOD, how bad fuckin’ he stinks obviously. whatever, ive got more important stuff to think about.

Evening 

okay work was like, not fuckin chill today. idk what was up but like, every little thing i did today just wasnt good enough apparently like okay?? you know me, if something seems off clearly, fucking OBVIOUSLY it uh, i? god my head just keeps going blank i dont get it, im just. Huh, kinda smells like Ben all of a sudden, oh fuck lol my pits have completely sweat through my shirt-

None of this matters anyway though bro! Because i just had the BEST sesh with Ben after work!! honestly the work shit doesnt even bother me, shouldve seen me its like i am a natural at this shit i was getting a pump like ive done it a hundred times. im sure it smelled like a locker room on the ride home lol

OH! I didnt even say, it was all ben’s idea!!! he said the gym always helps him when uh, things get too hard to think about and fuckk bro hes so right. hes so, lol i almost said hes so smart- he definitely knows how to work out though, he kept helping me with my technique but im prety sure he just wanted an excuse to touch me- 

not that im complaining LMAO- every time he did it was like i felt myself getting stronger, and less worried about all those yes-man suit fuckers! hed adjust my arms and i would feel my biceps just suddenly pump larger, hed bump his hands into my pecs while spotting me and theyd just force the bar up even faster, wish hed just go ahead and grab my cock lol

theres time yet too- gonna crash at his place tonight! hopefully ill get to see him put his magic fingers and tight body to use cause fuck bro idk if it was the pump or what but i dont think my balls have ever been this blue, like any time i try to think about, oh ughh, work i just. mm everything in my body just begs me to fucking blow a load- 

Friday May 10th

Morning

fucker just went to bed early- got me all riled up and then i had to jack off alone. felt way better than usual tho, my cock seems bigger to lol, dk whats up with that. wanted to try again this morning but ben was just on my fucking ass trying to get me out the door 

i didnt have any of my clothes, duh, so i just threw on some of his, crazy how much they fit me? they even kinda already smell like me lol. he actually put a suit on which seems wild, funny that i look like a slob and he looks like some uh, fancy guy. Like i should right? uhh is my headache coming back? lol idk but looking at him in that fucking suit sure is making it hard to focus-

ben said i can just change n stuff when we got to the office, its why hes dressed up. ill go ahead and drive us and then hell just run up and get my clothes, idk if theyll fit tho? feel like im larger than i was for some reason- oh yeah my massive fucking pump lol- 

mh speaking of pump, maybe while hes up there ill have time to jack another one out, not like anyonell see or care ya? like its a problem im about to be the fuckin alpha of this company or uh, something. itll be done before hes back, only evidence will be cum stains on his clothes lol. ugh it smells so fucking dank in here i might just cum without touching it lol

Evening

shit man, dont know what i was doing? i feel like i was supposed to go into work today but ben says from now on im just his driver. which easy gig right lol? doesnt even care that i dont shower huhuh-

he got his big promotion today!!! he looked so smug and hot when he came down to tell me, and he promised wed have some fun about it when he got home tonight- just gotta drop him off at some stupid fancy dinner ill probably hit the gym while hes there. gotta keep it up or ill look like some fucking dweeb

plus that means ill get the car totaly filled with my bo- hell fuckin love that, after he gets a good whiff no way wil he not want to fuck then and there huhuh fuck, kinda needs to get that exercise in now that hes doing whatever bitchass shit they do all they day up there needs to give in and just fuck me finally its been so, ugh long and my balls feel so full, and im sweating so much god im fogging up the windows loli better be careful i need to keep it together until then urgh- 

god i just smell so fucken hot

[bxnnywrites]

hiya!! im the anon that told you abt requests being closed, im glad i could help you out!!

i saw you headcanon danny as demiromantic and im very curious, what would it be like if danny had romantic feelings for a survivor reader? how would those feelings develop? i’m not demi myself so i’m rlly curious about the process of it!!

oh anon you have no idea how excited i am to answer this

*clears throat*

🫀 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐨𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 🫀

TW :: Obsessive behavior, stalking, violence, general Danny Warnings

Authors Notes :: This uh...kinda turned into a ficlet. Oops!!! I've just thought of this scenario a LOT so I had a lot to say-

Anyways!! Hope you enjoy <3 (also this isn't proof read, we die like men)

It took a really long time for him to realize it, or maybe just for the emotions to develop. He wasn't sure.

You had appeared months ago, or whatever the equivalent was in the realms. Time wasn't exactly an easy concept to pin down here.

For a long time you were just another survivor, someone his knife sliced through with delicate ease. Someone to hunt and kill, that was his job, and entity if he didn't love every fucking second of it.

He liked to stalk his victims, both in and out of trials. Especially the new ones, he loved to see what made them tick. What really fucking scared them.

So he was keeping an eye on you, taking his usual notes, keeping an ear out for anything to use against you later.

But it started to develop into something a bit...more than that.

Suddenly he noticed his notes becoming less about what you feared and more about what you liked.

The way you smiled, how you laughed at Ash's jokes, the way you bit your knuckles when you were worried. The way your eyes lit up when seeing your friends and fuck he wanted to see your eyes light up for him like that.

He shook it off, had to shake it off. It got in the way of what he did. What even was this feeling?

Sure he had flings before he was taken, but he never really had feelings for them. It was part of the game, part of his job. Something to keep him low on the radar. That's all.

Was that what this was then? What it felt like to properly fall in love?

He hated it.

He hated every feeling, he hated the way your smile made his chest light up. He hated how distracted he was, so fucking distracted.

He hated you.

He couldn't stop thinking of you.

Quit laughing at Ash's stupid fucking jokes they aren't even that fucking funny.

More scribbling, more anger, why did you have to appear here? Was it some sort of taunt by the entity? Some kind of damn punishment? Fuck you and fuck whatever feelings you gave him.

For a long time it was like that, if you were in a trial with him you were the first hooked. You were too much of a distraction to his work.

And maybe he loved the feeling of holding you like this but fuck he wouldn't admit that.

------

Eventually you got fucking tired of it.

Every damn trial he would tunnel in on you and only you. Wouldn't focus on anyone else while you were around.

You realized quickly killers couldn't truly kill you. You felt it, every last agonizing slice into your flesh, every bruise, every broken bone, but you would just wake up at the fire at the end.

And you needed to figure out what the fuck his issue was.

Your fellow survivors tried very hard to convince you out of it, but they understood being pissed about it. So in the end, no one stopped you.

So there you were, in front of Autohaven Wreckers. A few survivors tipped you off that Ghostface liked to hang out around this area. Beats you as to why, the place stank of burning rubber and old oil. It made your stomach turn, but you entered nonetheless.

As you walked through the old junkyard, it dawned on you, you didn't really have a plan. You had done this mainly on a whim, annoyed at constantly being targeted and harassed by the white faced freak. Where were you even supposed to look? What if the Wraith saw you? This was fucking stup-

Before you could react a leather gloved hand covered your mouth, pulling you back as the cold steel of a sharp blade touched your throat.

"You scream and this is going into your fucking back, got it?" The voice was husky in your ear, unfamiliar. It made you realize you had never heard Ghostface speak before. So you nod, and he make an approving noise before releasing you. You run a hand over your throat where his knife had bit into it, leaving a light red line against it.

"So," He spoke again, letting you turn to him finally to confirm your suspicions. There he was, the Ghostface in the flesh, mask and all. "What do I owe the pleasure, Doll?"

"Well," You started, feeling your anger bubble up in you again. "For fucking starters, I have some damn questions for you, asshole."

Oh he loved when you spoke like that, some real final girl trope shit.

"Ooo, questions for the killer?" He cooed, leaning against a nearby car and watching you intently. "Brave of ya, Doll. I like it."

"Oh fucking can it, you damned halloween drop out!" You spat, and though you couldn't see it under his mask, your words had him grinning ear to ear. He loved when you were angry like this. "Why the fuck do you keep tunneling me, huh?! Every fucking trial we have you steamroll me and kill me as quick as possible. It's fucking bullshit, dude!"

He laughs a bit, removing his leather glove and using his knife to pick the dirt from under his nails.

"I dunno what you're talkin bout, babe." He says nonchalantly. "You're mad because what, I'm killing you during trials? Come on, that's my job-"

"Bullshit, this is more than that and you know it!" You seethe, god if you knew you wouldn't die you'd punch him. "What's your fucking damage? Hell, I've heard stories about other trials, you're even fucking friendly with some of the survivors sometimes! What the fuck did I ever do to you?!"

His eye twitches.

"Like I said, I'm just doing my fucking job. Now if you would just-"

"NO YOU AREN'T!" You shout at him and he's on you in an instant, hand over your mouth and you can see his eyes through his mask. A deep red brown and angry.

"Listen here you stupid bitch, one more outburst like that and I'm gutting you like a fucking fish, understand?" He snaps, his grip on your face almost bruising. Fear grips you again and you nod. He sighs, letting you go again with an unspoken warning that he would follow through if you got loud like that again.

"Look, it's fucking...it's complicated." He mumbled, looking almost shy as he played with one of the ghostly strips of fabric attached to his outfit. "You're just...you're a fucking distraction. Every trial I'm in with you it's hard to fucking focus, and I have a fucking job to do god damn it." He grumbles. You almost feel bad for him, almost.

"What, and that's my problem?" You snap in return.

"Yeah, it fucking is." He snaps in return, starting to pace back and forth. "I have work to do, people to kill, fear to harvest, the whole nine fucking yards. But you," He points, "You get in the fucking way, you make me lose track, you make me...you...fuck, you make me feel something, OK?"

You blink dumbly at him, finally speechless, and he continues.

"I get this stupid fucking feeling in my stomach and it makes me fucking twitchy. It makes my damn mind race and I can't tell if it's because I want to fucking dissect you or..." He trails off.

"...Or?" You question.

"I don't know!" He snaps, growling a bit as he continues pacing. "I haven't fucking felt like this before, I didn't think I fucking could. I just..." He takes a breath, looking back at you. "I need you to stop."

Your mouth hangs open, shocked by his...confession? If you could call it that.

"What?" You question again.

"Stop! Stop making me feel...whatever the fuck this is!" He snaps again, and even though you can't see his eyes anymore, you can feel the frustration wafting off him.

"How the fuck am I supposed to do that?!" You snap in return, annoyance rising in you as well. "It's not my fault you have a...a fucking crush on me or something!"

"Yes it is, it's absolutely your fault!" He throws his arms up, almost like an annoyed toddler. "It's your fault because you have this soft fucking face and this pretty laugh and that stupid fucking smile! You have these fucking eyes that light up whenever you get to talking about what you love, and fuck I just wish for once that was ME and-" He cuts himself off with a growl, kicking a nearby stack of tired and knocking them down. "It's bullshit, you're bullshit, it's all fucking bullshit!"

You're left speechless until he finally looks at you again.

"There, you happy? Now could you fucking make it stop?!" He breathes out, his eyes just barely visible through the black mesh of his mask.

"I...Well...fuck uh..." You mumble, shifting your weight from foot to foot. "I...don't think I can do that? I mean..."

"Fuck, yeah, course you can't." He grumbles, fidgeting with the fabric strips of his costume again. "I just...this is a stupid, distracting fucking feeling and I hate it."

"Well...I mean..." You take a breath, not really sure how to approach the situation. "Maybe we could like...I dunno...start over?"

He looks at you, and you swear he thinks you're insane.

"Start over?" He questions, "The fuck you mean start over?"

"Like, I dunno. Figure shit out from the beginning, like...get to know each other or something?" You say awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck.

"...Are you fucking crazy?" He questions, and yeah, you expected that. "Like, hello, earth to Dollface, I've killed you dozens of times now. I have murdered your friends in front of you." He snaps his fingers, impressive considering he's still wearing his gloves. "Like sure, sounds nice and all, but how the fuck do you expect to just start over? Hi, what's up, the names Ghostface. Wanna get stabbed?"

"Don't be a fucking dickhead." You snap in response and huff, "Look, I don't know what you want me to do about...whatever this shit is," You motion to him vaguely. "Like I dunno dude, you need a good therapist or something?"

"Fuck you." He growls.

"Yeah, whatever." You breath out. "Look, I don't care what you do, but I'm sick of you pulling bullshit during trials because of...whatever your feelings are. So you either talk to me about it and we get it sorted, or I start making offerings to the entity to make your job even harder than I apparently already am." You cross your arms and look him up and down before sighing. "I'm heading back to camp, if you want to fucking talk-"

"Wait," He grabs your arm and you stop, looking back at him before he sighs. "OK maybe...maybe you're right. Maybe we can like, try that? I dunno."

You smile at him, sighing in relief.

"Good, I prefer that." You turn to him, extending a hand and telling him your name proper, even though he already knows it. "Nice to meet you, Ghostface."

He stares at your hand for a second, but slowly, he takes it.

"...Ghostface is fine for now." He mumbles, shaking it awkwardly. "So...uh...how do we do this?"

"Well...what kinds of movies did you like? Before you got taken."

His eyes light up, and suddenly he's on a kick. Rambling happily about his favorite horror movies while you listen.

Things get better after that.

Rather than being targeted, you're more often than not spared during trials.

Of course people get suspicious though, so you have to cut a small deal with him to either spare all of you during trials or kill everyone including you.

He's not personally a fan of the second option, so he ends up sparing your little party whenever you're involved.

You two get closer and you start to have your own feelings for him in return.

Eventually he tells you his real name. Danny, it rolls off your tongue nicely.

He's nervous at first, but eventually his smooth charm comes back and it's rare for him to not leave you flustered and blushing when you two talk.

When you finally get the courage to tell him your feelings, you swear he's on cloud nine. immediately talking about how happy he's going to make you and how he'll make sure no one in this fucking realm ever touches you.

You have to talk him down from that, knowing that your other survivors would hate you if you were the only exception during trials. And while he says "fuck em" you know you can't have him as your only friend in the realm, as much as part of him would love that.

But it's nice, he treats you like royalty. Like you're his entire world.

It might not be a real happy ending, but it's probably the closest you'll get in this hellhole.

And that's good enough for the both of you.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Hunted | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, smut, unprotected sex (don’t do this, friends), mentions of infertility

Word Count: 5254

A/N: giving the people what they want in this chapter. lol. no one under 18 allowed beyond this point!!!! 

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At some point in leaving Oregan behind, Dean pulled off to the side of the road in the middle of nowhere for a break. He pulled three beers out of the cooler in the trunk and leaned against the fence next to you. 

Sam turned to his brother. “So. Last night. You want to tell me what the hell you were talking about?”

You raised a brow at Dean, interested to hear his explanation. 

“What do you mean?” the older brother questioned.

“Dean, you said you were tired of the job,” you told him. “That’d be weird enough on its own. But on top of that, you said it wasn’t just because of your dad.”

“Forget it,” Dean gruffly replied.

“No, I can't. No way,” Sam argued.

“Come on man, I thought we were all goin’ to die, you can't hold that over me,” Dean shot back.

Sam straightened his posture, shoulders tensing. “No, no, no, no. You can't pull that crap with me, man. You're talking.”

“And what if I don't?”

“Then I guess I'll just have to keep asking until you do.”

Dean tried to pick up his plucky attitude. “I don't know, man. I just think maybe we ought to… go to the Grand Canyon.”

“What?” you scoffed.

“Yeah, you know, all this driving back and forth across country, you know I've never been to the Grand Canyon? Or we could go to T.J. or Hollywood; see if we can bang Lindsey Lohan,” Dean smirked.

You rolled your eyes. “Dean, speak English, please.”

“I just think we should take a break from all this. Why do we gotta get stuck with all the responsibility, you know? Why can't we live life a little bit?” he asked. 

“Why are you saying all this?” Sam cut back in.

Dean took a deep breath before shaking his head and turning away.

Sam pulled his arm back. “No, no, no, no, Dean. You're my brother, all right? So whatever weight you're carrying, let me help a little bit.”

Dean’s face contorted with emotion. “I can't. I promised.”

“Who?” you asked.

“My dad,” he replied simply. 

Sam’s face drew together. “What are you talking about?”

Dean looked down at the ground. “Right before Dad died, he told me something.” He took a deep breath before looking up at Sam. “He told me something about you.”

“What?” Sam urged. “Dean, what did he tell you?”

The older brother cast his eyes to the ground. “He said that he wanted me to watch out for you, to take care of you.”

Sam seemed to relax a bit. “He told you that a million times.”

The other Winchester shook his head, growing more upset. “No, this time was different. He said that I had to save you.”

“Save me from what?”

“He just said that I had to save you, that nothing else mattered; and that if I couldn't, I'd—” he turned his head, beginning to tear up.

“You’d what, Dean?” Sam asked gently.

He looked back up at his little brother, tears forming in his eyes. “That I'd have to kill you. He said that I might have to kill you, Sammy.”

Sam drew in a sharp breath. “Kill me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I don't know,” Dean shook his head, voice breaking.

“I mean, he must have had some kind of reason for saying it, right? Did he know the demon's plans for me? Am I supposed to go Darkside or something? What else did he say, Dean?” Sam’s head was beginning to swim; even you could tell that.

“Nothing, that's it, I swear,” Dean breathed out.

“How could you not have told me this?”

“Because it was Dad, and he begged me not to,” Dean responded simply.

Sam’s voice grew angrier. “Who cares?! Take some responsibility for yourself, Dean! You had no right to keep this from me!”

“You think I wanted this? Huh? I wish to god he'd never opened his mouth. Then I wouldn't have to walk around with this screaming in my head all day,” the older brother yelled right back.

Sam turned and took a few steps away, fuming. “We've just got to figure out what's going on, then, what the hell all this means.”

“We do?” Dean sighed. “I've been thinking about this, I think we should just lay low, y’know? At least for a while. It'd be safer. And that way I can make sure—”

The brunet spun back around. “What? That I don't turn evil? That I don't turn into some kind of killer?”

“Sam, he never said that,” you jumped in.

“Jeez, if you're not careful you will have to waste me one day, Dean,” Sam continued to mock.

Dean raged at his brother. “I never said that! Dammit, Sam, this whole thing is spinnin’ out of control. Alright? You're immune to some weirdo demon virus, and I don't even know what the hell anymore. And you're pissed at me, I get it. That's fine, I deserve it. But we lay low until we figure out our next move, okay?”

Sam grumbled, “Forget it.”

“Sam, please, man,” the older brother begged. His voice began to break again. “Hey, please. Just give me some time. Give me some time to think, okay? I'm begging you here, please. Please.”

You stared at Sam with bated breath, waiting for his reaction. To your relief, he finally nodded reluctantly.

***

A few hours away, you and the brothers settled on a motel to stop in for the night. You weren’t sure what Dean’s plans were; whether you’d be here for days, weeks, or a month. You began to quiet your mind for the evening only to be disturbed by a knock on the door. To your surprise, it was Dean.

“Hey,” you breathed out. You were suddenly acutely aware of the fact that you were only dressed in an oversized t-shirt and your underwear.

Wordlessly, Dean slipped past you into your room.

“Oh-kay,” you muttered, closing the door behind him. “What’s up?” you asked him. 

He stood awkwardly on the opposite side of the room from you. It was the first time since you’d met him that he wasn’t exuding confidence. “Dean, talk to me. What’s going on?”

He stayed silent, hesitating and running a hand through his hair. “Dammit, you make it so hard to talk to you,” he grumbled, beginning to pace.

“What?” you asked, taken aback. “You know you can tell me anything. I’d hope I’m pretty easy to talk to.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s—” He stopped his pacing. “I wanna tell you everything I just— I’m not good at this.”

You giggled. “Clearly.”

He deadpanned at you. 

“Seriously, Dean, spit it out.”

“Can I—” He took a deep breath. “Can I stay here tonight?” 

Your breath hitched, and you suddenly realized you hadn’t answered him yet. “Yeah, yeah, sure,” you said. He clicked on the lamp next to your bed while you turned off the other lights in the room. He crawled into your bed and lifted the covers up for you. You slid in next to him and settled in on your side, facing him. “How you holding up?” you asked. 

He blew out a puff of air. “How do you think?” he finally jested. 

You frowned sympathetically. “Dean, why didn’t you tell me? I get why you didn’t tell Sam, but… I could’ve helped you.”

“(Y/N),” he sighed. “You know I’m no good at the mushy crap.”

“I don’t think that’s it, though,” you replied. “I think you’ve had to keep shit together for too long. Now, opening up to someone feels foreign to you. And I’d stand to reason you’re worried about burdening me with that stuff.”

He looked away from you, and you could tell you were right.

“You are never burdening me. I like listening to you talk. I like being the person you can unload your crap on,” you admitted. “I care about you. You’re my best friend. I never want you to feel like you can’t talk to me.”

“It’s not that I feel like I can’t, I just— I don’t wanna get too close to you.”

Your heart clenched. “Why? You’re confusing me.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, I do, I— I don’t want that to be the reason I end up losing you,” he murmured.

You shook your head. “You won’t. You are not a burden.”

“(Y/N)—” Dean sighed.

“You’re not!” you protested, putting a hand on the side of his face. “Dean, you are… so important to me. Listening to you is important to me. Let me in, please.” You stroked his cheek with you thumb.

“I’m trying,” he said, reaching up to hold your wrist. He kissed the inside of your wrist gently, savoring the moment before looking back up at you. “I promise, I’m trying. I’ve never been this honest with… anyone, I don’t think.”

You huffed a short laugh. “I’m glad you can trust me. I trust you, too. And… I’m never trying to push you to talk about shit you don’t want to. But I do want you to know, no matter how dark and scary it gets, I’m here.”

Dean nudged your nose with his. You took the opportunity to kiss him gently, the kiss quickly becoming more passionate. Dean grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him, hooking your leg around his hips. He then rolled on top of you, continuing to kiss you deeply. You arched your back into him, moaning into his mouth. He ground his hardening cock into your core, and you broke the kiss suddenly.

“Wait, wait, Dean, are you sure you want this?” you asked him. 

“What?” he asked breathlessly.

“I mean, with everything going on, do you just… need to blow off some steam? Or… do you really want me?” you asked nervously.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” he urged you. 

You did.

“I want this. I want you.” 

You pulled his face back down to you as he started to grind against you again. You could feel your arousal beginning to soak through your underwear, and Dean could feel it, too. 

He smirked down at you. “That all for me?”

“Shut up,” you said, kissing him again. You broke the kiss only to take his shirt off him. He did the same to you, groaning at the sight of your exposed breasts. You moved to cover yourself, but Dean pinned your hands next to your head.

“Don’t,” he ordered. “Don’t hide from me.”

You leaned up to kiss him again, and he began to twist and pinch your nipples, causing you to moan into his mouth. 

“Dean,” you breathed out.

“I know, sweetheart,” he told you. “Fuck, I don’t have a condom. Are you—?”

You shook your head. “I can’t have kids,” you admitted. “Part of the, uh, side effects of being malnourished as a kid,” you laughed uncomfortably. You looked back up at Dean to find him gazing at you sadly.

“It’s okay, really,” you told him. You were telling the truth; you wouldn’t want to bring a child into this life anyway. “Now, are you gonna fuck me, or what?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled. Dean pushed his boxers down with one hand and pulled your panties to the side. You moaned at the feeling of him entering you, chest heaving from the stretch. 

“Dean, Dean, slow down,” you pleaded. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned. Dean let you adjust to his size as you ran your hands over his chest and along his back, just enjoying the feeling of touching him. Feeling him kept you grounded as he pushed completely into you. 

“God, fuck, move, please,” you rushed out breathlessly.

He complied, kissing you again as he toyed with your breasts and rocked into you. You were shocked at the speed your orgasm crept up on you, and you raked your nails up Dean’s spine. “Dee, I’m gonna—”

“I know, I know, me, too—” he said, burying his face in your shoulder. His pace became more frantic and erratic before you finally felt ropes of his cum shooting into you, sending you over the edge along with him. Dean continued to rut into you and press kisses into your neck as he steadied his breathing, and you held onto his shoulders tightly. Still inside of you, he leaned back up to kiss you.

You held either side of his face with your legs wrapped around his waist as you kissed him, relishing in the feeling of your bodies connected. When he did pull out, you moaned at the loss as he tucked himself back into his boxers and adjusted your panties. He gathered up your slick on his index and middle fingers and brought them to his lips. Your breath hitched as he kept eye contact with you while he smirked and licked his fingers clean. He then put his fingers between your lips, and his jaw dropped as you sucked them with your eyes closed in contentment. You pulled Dean’s fingers out of your mouth and kissed them gently before taking his wrist and wrapping his arm around your back.

Dean chuckled and shuffled closer to you in the bed. He held you close to him and rested his forehead against yours. “If vulnerability is gonna get me sex like that, I’ll be spillin’ my guts to you non-stop,” he joked.

You shoved his shoulder playfully and feigned offense. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he said, pulling you back against his chest. Dean laid on his back, staring up and the ceiling, and had you lying on your stomach on top of his chest, arms encircling your waist. 

“Thank you,” he murmured. 

“For what?” you asked.

“Everything.”

***

You woke up wrapped by Dean’s arms the next morning. The two of you hadn’t moved much from the position you fell asleep in; Dean securing you to his chest, and your head tucked under his chin. You sighed contentedly, snuggling more into Dean. 

The air would undoubtedly shift between you following last night’s events. You’d told him before you weren’t one for hookups, and you knew he wasn’t one to stay the night with a hookup. Being like this was new for both of you. It almost nauseated you thinking about the possible repercussions of sleeping with him, as you’d never cared as much about someone as you cared about him. He was starting to consume more and more of your heart, and you allowed him willingly. 

What scared you was the possibility of being used. You weren’t a very trusting person to begin with, and trusting someone with your heart was entirely new territory for you. You feared that one day, after Dean was over his father’s passing and possibly even tired of having you around, he would be done with you. As this thought crossed your mind, you moved to get out of bed. Dean’s arms tightened around you.

“Where you goin’?” he hummed, eyes still closed.

“Dean, I gotta pee, let me go,” you said.

“Don’t think I will,” he replied, rolling on top of you.

“Dean!” you squealed. “Let me up!” 

He began to attack your neck with kisses up to your lips as you giggled and half-heartedly fought him off you. 

You pecked him on the lips and pulled your neck back into your pillow slightly to look at him. “You’re cute. I still gotta pee.”

“Argh.” He rolled off of you dramatically and laid back on his pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

When you’d done your business and brushed your teeth, you asked Dean, “What’d you tell Sam, anyway? I’m surprised he hasn’t called either of us asking where you were. Or broken down the door yet.” You sat back on the bed next to him. 

That seemed to strike a chord in him. “Yeah, now that you mention it, that is weird. I didn’t tell him I was leaving. He was knocked out when I left.”

You started to get concerned. “He should definitely be up by now, too. It’s after nine o’clock.”

You saw Dean’s breath catch in his chest with worry, and he immediately pulled on his jeans and shirt from the night before along with his shoes. He left the room as you quickly got dressed, too, brushing your hair back into a haphazard ponytail. You held your phone trying to call Sam between your shoulder and ear as you tugged on your boots. “C’mon, pick up,” you begged into the phone.

Dean returned moments later. “He’s not in the room. Dammit, Sam!”

“Hey, I’m sure he’s fine.” You weren’t. “Is the car still here?”

“Yeah. I’ve got the keys, too.”

“What the fuck,” you muttered. “Sam’s phone went to voicemail twice.”

“Shit,” Dean grumbled. “Alright, get your stuff, we’re leaving now.”

You nodded, running around your room to pack the few things you’d taken out of your bag. You beat Dean to the Impala and he sped out of the parking lot more recklessly than usual.

“Slow down, dude, we’re no good to Sam dead,” you scolded.

He didn’t respond to that. “Call Ellen, see if she’s seen him.”

“Already on it.” You pressed the phone to your ear, grateful to hear the woman respond. She told you she hadn’t seen him, but would let you know if she did. You called Bobby; got the same answer. Jo didn’t answer her phone. Sam still wasn’t answering, either.

“Just head to the Roadhouse,” you told Dean. “Ash can probably track ‘im down.”

Dean nodded wordlessly, and you could practically see his mind running a mile a minute. His shoulders were tense, brow set in a hard line, and jaw clenched. You weren’t sure how to help him at that moment, so you just sat by him silently for hours on the road. Then, Ellen called again.

“Hello?” you said. “You heard from Sam?”

“I have, but he made me promise not to tell you where he is,” she replied.

“C’mon, Ellen, please—” 

Dean took the phone from you. “Ellen? It’s Dean. Something bad could be going on here, and I swore I'd look after that kid.” A moment or so later, the tension released from his body as he breathed out, “Thanks.” He clicked the phone shut and handed it back to you. 

“Lafayette, Indiana,” was all he said for the rest of the drive.

***

When you found Sam, he was at the Blue Rose Motel in a room. You and Dean could see him through the window of his room. 

“Oh, thank god you're okay,” Dean breathed out.

Sam moved aside, allowing you and Dean to see the tiny brunette in the room with him.

“Oh, you're better than okay. Sam, you sly dog!” Dean chuckled.

“Dean, I don’t know Sam would drive six hundred miles for pussy,” you quipped. “I think something else is going on here.”

Suddenly, something caught your eye from across the road. It was Gordon on the rooftop of the building, hunched over a sniper rifle he was loading.

“Dean, look,” you rushed out. “We gotta go!”

You sprinted across the street and up the fire escape of the building just as Gordon took a shot. The window on Sam’s room shattered, and Dean jumped Gordon from behind just as he was about to take another shot.

“Gordon!” He kicked Gordon down, hard, pinning him by his collar. He hit him over and over again. “You do that to my brother, I'll kill you!”

You moved to grab the rifle from Gordon, but he smashed the butt of the rifle into your head. It was lights out after that moment.

***

When you came to, you groaned in pain at the pounding in your head. Not quite aware of what was going on yet, you tried to raise a hand to your head only to be stopped by the binds around your wrists. You jerked in your chair and realized your ankles were bound, too. 

‘Hey, sweetie,” Gordon monotoned. “Nice of you to join us.”

“You son of a bitch,” you hissed, staring up at him through your eyebrows. 

Without missing a beat, he back slapped you. “That's my momma you're talking about.”

Your head still jerked to the side from the slap, you flexed your jaw painfully. “Where’s Dean?” you asked.

As if on cue, you heard him in the next room. “(Y/N)? (Y/N)!” he called.

“Isn’t that sweet,” Gordon droned. 

“What’s your plan, here?” you questioned, ignoring his comment. “Gonna get back at us for leaving you tied up in your own mess for three days?”

“What, you think this is revenge?” His monotone almost broke as he chuckled humorlessly. “This isn't personal. I'm not a killer, sweetie. I'm a hunter. And your boyfriend’s brother is fair game.” Gordon slammed a knife from his canvas duffel bag into its sheath.

“Sam? Why?” you asked.

“Was huntin’ a demon down in Louisiana. She told me all about Sam’s visions. Apparently, a bunch of psychic freaks are supposed to help demons take over the world. And the real kick in the ass: she told me I know one of them. Our very own Sammy Winchester,” he said.

“Are you done monologuing, or…?”

He scoffed. “You keep that attitude up. I know it’s just a front. I gotta say, I’m kinda excited to see you and Dean break when Sam goes up in smoke.”

“So, what? You’re gonna use us to lure Sam here, kill him; then what about us? You don’t think we’ll hunt you down to hell and back?” you hissed.

“I do. That’s why I’m gonna kill you, too.”

You snorted. 

“Something funny?”

You shook your head. “Nah, it’s just, you think you’re so good. Do you really believe you’re gonna take us out that easy?” 

He considered for a moment. “Honestly? Yeah. There were two of y’all, and I still got the jump on you.”

You couldn’t argue with him there. “Call it a weak moment,” you grumbled.

He snickered and came up behind you, forcing a tie into your mouth. He caught a bit of your hair in the knot as he secured it around your head. “See you on the flipside, sweetheart.” Gordon left the room and shut the door behind him. 

You immediately set to work trying to loosen the ropes enough to be able to grab the knife sheathed in your sleeve. 

‘Fuck, he tied this shit well,’ you thought. You continued struggling, tears beginning to pool in your eyes. 

You heard Dean and Gordon talking in the next room, but couldn’t quite make out what was being said. You took in the dilapidated room around you filled with debris, and noticed one of the loose wooden boards was just around level with the arms of your chair. You began propelling yourself toward it by making the chair hop in the board’s direction. You paused when you heard footsteps approaching the door to your room. The door creaked open to reveal Gordon, and you stared him down angrily. 

“All good in here?” he asked you accusingly.

You couldn’t respond due to the gag tightly secured around your mouth. 

“Good. Sammy should be here soon,” he said. He loaded a mag into his rifle and turned to leave the room. You could hear Gordon pacing the floor just outside the room and decided not to move until he left. 

Unfortunately, that moment never came. The next thing you heard was a bomb going off. You screamed, muffled by the gag, and immediately began moving back toward your original goal to help you get loose. A second grenade sounded, and you began to sob. You stuck a jutting-out part of the loose board under the rope around your wrist and tugged against it, allowing you room to pull your wrist out. You dragged your hand along the splintered wood, ignoring the scratching and pricks to fully free your wrist. You quickly went to work pulling the knife out of your sleeve to free your other wrist and ankles. You burst through the door and pulled the gag over your head, yelling, “Dean!”

You heard his muffled sobs from beyond the door across from you. You hurried to him, hearing struggling from Gordon in the next room. And… Sam? You were relieved to hear his voice and began cutting Dean free of his binds. Dean ripped his gag off with his free hand and ran a hand over your hair as you finished freeing him.

You looked back up at him. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “You?” He gingerly touched the wound on your forehead from where the butt of Gordon’s rifle hit you. 

“Yeah,” you said, just as Sam walked into the room.

“I’m fine, too, guys, thanks,” he joked.

“Sam!” You ran to him and threw your arms around him. 

“Hey, (Y/N/N).”

Dean was next to hug Sam. He frantically checked his baby brother for injuries. Sam clapped a hand to Dean’s shoulder to let him know he was okay. With that, Dean wheeled around in the direction Sam had come from. “That son of a—”

Sam stopped him. “Dean. No.”

Dean shrugged his brother off him. “I let him live once. I'm not making the same mistake twice.”

“Trust me. Gordon's taken care of. Come on,” Sam jerked his head at the door, pulling Dean by his jacket.

Sam staggered down the steps of the cabin, and you caught him as he almost stumbled down the last one.

“You okay, kid?” you asked.

He nodded, grimacing. “Yeah, he got in a few good hits, though.”

You looked at him sadly.

“Trust me, (Y/N), I’m okay.”

Suddenly, a shot fired off whizzing right past your head. “Run!” you yelled, scrambling across the street to find cover in the woods. 

“You call this taken care of?” Dean grunted at his brother. 

Sam grabbed you and Dean and pulled you into the ditch next to him.

“What the hell are we doing?” Dean questioned.

“Just trust me on this, alright?”

Your breath quickened as Gordon continued to approach your hiding spot with his gun cocked. However, to your relief, cops emerged from their cars with sirens blazing, cornering Gordon.

“Drop your weapons! Get down on your knees!” one cop yelled, pointing his gun at Gordon.

You grinned at Sam as Gordon was apprehended, glaring in your direction. The cops pulled out the weapons rack in the back of Gordon’s car.

“Anonymous tip,” Sam whispered.

“You're a fine upstanding citizen, Sam,” Dean commented. 

You giggled, leaning against Sam to hug him as you continued watching Gordon’s arrest. “Only thing that would make this better would be some popcorn.”

***

You called Ellen to explain the situation to her. “Apparently, Gordon was hunting Sam,” you told her. “And he apparently had some Roadhouse connections.” You were fuming when Dean told you that, but also refused to let Dean rip into that poor woman. You decided to handle the issue yourself. 

“And you honestly think that it was me? Or Ash? Or Jo? No way,” she said.

“Well, who else knows about Sam?” you questioned accusingly. “I mean, you must have been talking to somebody.”

“Hey, you can say a lot of things about us. But we are not disloyal. And we're not stupid. We haven't breathed a word of this,” she replied sharply.

“Are you sure? I wanna trust you, but this guy almost killed us. I need to know the truth,” you told her.

“(Y/N), sweetie, this roadhouse is full of other hunters. They're all smart. They're good trackers. Each of them with their own patterns and connections. Look, hell, I could name twelve of them right now that are capable of putting this together.” She sighed. “I am sorry about what happened. But I can't control these people. Or what they choose to believe.”

“Okay,” you said finally. “Thanks, Ellen.” You hung up the phone and sat back against the passenger’s side door of the Impala as Dean continued driving. Sam had been on a phone call of his own, but apparently, he’d been sent to voicemail.

“Hey, Ava, it's Sam. Again. Um, call me when you get this, just want to make sure you got home okay. Alright. Bye.”

“Everything alright?” Dean asked his younger brother. 

“Yeah, I hope so.”

“Well, Gordon should be reaching for the soap for the next few years at least,” the older brother chuckled.

“Yeah. If they pin Scott Carey's murder on him.”

A potentially unfortunate thought crossed your mind. “And if he doesn't bust out.”

A silence settled over the car.

“Dude, you ever take off like that again—” Dean warned.

Sam snorted. “What? You’ll kill me?”

“That is so not funny,” you chimed in.

“Alright, alright. So where to next, then?” Sam asked.

Dean smirked. “One word: Amsterdam.”

“Dean!” you and Sam exclaimed.

“C’mon, guys, I hear the coffeeshops don't even serve coffee,” he snickered.

“I'm not just gonna ditch the job,” Sam protested.

“Honestly, Dean, me neither,” you said.

Dean shook his head. “Fuck the job. Fuck it. I'm sick of the job anyway. I mean, we don't get paid, we don't get thanked. The only thing we get's bad luck.”

“Well, come on, dude, you're a hunter. I mean, it's what you were meant to do,” the younger brother said.

“Ah, I wasn't meant to do anything, I don't believe in that destiny crap.”

Sam tilted his head. “You mean you don't believe in my destiny.”

“Yeah, whatever,” the older brother mumbled.

“Look, Dean, I've tried running before. I mean, I ran all the way to California and look what happened. You can't run from this. And you can't protect me,” Sam continued.

Dean looked at him significantly. “I can try.”

Sam’s puppy dog eyes stared back at him. “Thanks for that,” he said quietly. “Look, Dean, I'm gonna keep hunting. I mean, whatever is coming, I'm taking it head-on, so if you really want to watch my back, then I guess you're gonna have to stick around.”

“Bitch,” Dean grumbled.

“Jerk.”

You giggled at the brothers. “You guys are breakin’ my heart up there. You gonna hug or somethin’?”

“Shut up, (Y/N),” both brothers chided.

You laughed again.

Dean noticed Sam fiddling with his phone again. “You calling that Ava girl again? You sweet on her or something?”

“She's engaged, Dean.”

“So? What's the point in saving the world if you can't get a little nookie once in a while, huh?”

“Ew, Dean,” you grimaced.

Dean smirked lasciviously at you in the rearview mirror. You rolled your eyes, holding back a smile.

Sam hung up the phone, scowling in thought.

“What?” you asked.

He sighed. “Just a feeling. How far is it to Peoria?”

***

When you arrived— well, broke and entered— at Ava Wilson’s house, you were horrified by what you found. A man was lying face-up on the bed, clothes, sheets, and hair soaked in blood.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out.

“Hey,” Dean called from the window sill. “Sulfur. Demon's been here.”

You caught sight of something on the floor and picked it up. It was an engagement ring. You held it up to Sam.

His reply was one whispered word: “Ava.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[imababblekat]

Pushing Buttons

Anon Request, “ Love your content it’s sooo cute! Can I get a snarky sarcastic reader who calls April for a chat on speaker phone then gets into a funny argument with Ralph trading jabs. Like he tries to get April to hang up because their in the middle of something important but reader gives him a snappy comeback. They keep going with everyone listening. Tired of this April is gonna hang up on them but before that happens “Wait wait! give that guys digits he sounds hot! You know how I love pushing a guys buttons!”

A/N: I hope this is okay, gonna be honest I struggled to write this one for some reason. Hope it’s still at the very least readable \TvT/

~xXx~

April hadn’t meant to answer the phone, but Mikey curiously nudging into her had caused her to ultimately accept your request. As if to make a point at your horrible timing as April and the boys were in the mist of a game plan to take down a new gang, you’re voice rang loud through the speaker causing everyone to simultaneously jump.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!! April you are not going to believe what happened to me at work today!!”

April sighed, giving the ninja turtles apologetic glances. 

“I can’t really talk right-”

“I’ll make it quick! I swear! Okay, so I got up at seven like I usually do, right? I was really tired though, so I went to snooze my alarm and-”

Before April could politely ask you to skip ahead to what had happened at your job, the human girl was thrown for a shock when Raphael had suddenly snatched the device straight out of her hand. She went to reprimand him but all he had done was hold a large hand up to block her as he angrily snapped into the call.

“She’s busy. Call back later.”

*click*

April’s eyes had never been as wide as they were in that moment. No way did Raphael just hang up on you of all people. Said terrapin, with a triumphant grin, reached out to hand her back the phone, when it had suddenly started going off again right in his palm. If it weren’t for the growing agitation, he could have sworn it seemed to vibrate with a vengeance. With a hard tap, he answered the call ready to repeat what he had done only a few minutes ago.

“I said-”

“Excuse me!!”

Raphael felt himself fumble at your sudden shout, April standing across from him with a knowing look.

“And who the hell do you think you are, huh?! You do not cut me off when I am talking to my gal pal!!”

Raphael sputtered, caught off for but a second before snapping back.

“Who do I-?! April’s busy! I’m sure whatever little issue you got goin on at work ain’t that important!”

“Oh, and how would you know that?! You read minds huh?! I’d ask if you’re some sort of phycologist but frankly just from your voice alone I’d say you’re need of one.”

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

“I think you know what I mean, big boy.”

Raphael felt his blood boiling in that moment, his brothers Mikey and Donnie doing their best to stifle their laughter behind him while Leo simply smirked at his dismay. All the while all April could do was hide her face in her hands at the embarrassment she felt for her close friend on the line.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What? Would you rather I call you big baby instead? Ya gonna cry about it? Good, cuz sounds to me like you need to shed a few tears. It’s perfectly healthy by the way. Just thought I’d let you know that since you give off the vibe that you’d rather walk around with a stick up your ass then express your emotions.”

“A stick up my ass?! Seriously?! How about I come over and shove one up yours?! You’re just all bark and no bite!”

“Ooo, don’t promise me with a good time~.”

If it were possible, Raph’s face would match the color of his mask at your raunchy response, the suave to your tone not making things any better. It was at the sudden burst of laughter behind him from his brothers and Aprils own snickering that the brute decided in that moment the best course of action was to, once again, hang up the damn phone. 

A groan bubbled up from his throat at he tossed April back her phone, sending a glare to his still cackling siblings. 

“Will ya all stop laughin. Let’s just get back to the stupid plan.”, he glared, arms crossing.

It was Leo, who had to take a few breaths to gather himself, that brought back the others to focus.

“Okay, okay, you heard the big boy. Let’s ready up.”

Green eyes glared daggers at the leader in blue for his jab, the other winking back with a shit eating grin. Raphael stepped forward to make a quip in response to Leo, when a chortle behind him had alerted all the turtles. It was from April, who’s eyes crinkled in the corners as she did her best to bite back some giggles, holding up her phone to show what had caused such a reaction out of her. Each brother leaned in, squinting at the small text on screen and then let out more laughter, Mikey rocking a groaning Raph’s shoulders with congratulations.

On the screen before them, read a text sent by the very person who riled him up quicker then anyone on record.

*Hey girly, you gotta get me your friends digits! Dude sounds hot af 😉💗*

~xXx~

[thoughtfulfiction]

Hike of a Lifetime

Author’s Note: Set in the 2022 offseason after Justin’s labrum surgery in January 2023. Rewriting my first Justin fic is a full circle moment for me so I hope you like this one!

The last two hours of your life had been spent going over orders of Gatorade protein shakes, protein pack quick bites that usually contained some sort of cheese and sausage, various brands of Greek yogurt, apples, bananas, blueberries, granola bars and anything else you could think of to stock the weight room with while you were on vacation. You had been the head nutritionist for the UCLA men's basketball team for the last year, making customized, ever changing meal plans and consulting with the health care staff to enhance your athlete's performance to the best of your ability.

After the team's loss to Gonzaga in the NCAA tournament known as March Madness, you ran to Eugene, Oregon at the first opportunity you had to go see your sister Chloe. March up until this point was one busy day after another, truly living up to the name. Most days you didn't even feel like you got to sit down for more than 10 minutes at a time due to the constant travel and meetings you had to attend. So you took a week off and as soon as you closed your laptop today, you were going to enjoy being one with nature.

Chloe had moved to Eugene two years before you got your LA job, working as a team photographer for the University of Oregon's football team, allowing the two of you to see each other during conference play more often, which had done wonders for your relationship. It's one thing to be siblings but you could genuinely call her a friend now, which was both weird to say aloud, and nice.

"Do you want the good news or the bad news first?" Chloe steps into the living room, breaking you out of your vigorous typing. You look up and groan at the guilty look on her face. That was definitely an I have a work emergency and I’m going to be leaving you, look.

"No. You're not canceling on me. I got here two days ago and I have yet to really be outside. How am I supposed to enjoy some of the most beautiful scenery of my life if I'm stuck at the house the whole time? Does spring ball even matter anyway?"

Chloe laughs, heading into the kitchen to grab a snack. You'd recently lectured her about how although cereal is a grain, she can't consider it a food group and she needs to introduce more of a balanced variety in her diet. Unless she enjoys her daily 4pm sugar crash. She surprises you by pulling out a bowl of overnight oats from the fridge, with strawberries on top. After giving her your nod of approval, she gets back to the issue at hand. "Yes, spring ball matters. But I promise you it will not take me that long, I'll be back before you know it."

You huff out a breath, trying to come up with a solution. "What if you have one of your interns do it? Mine are really holding down the fort this week, I'm obviously working from home to help them out a little and I think you should do the same."

"Well our jobs are a little different. I can give them things to edit and post but I don't want to have to approve every single one of their photos and make sure they're featuring the right position groups and players based on a schedule that I created in my head. It'll just be easier if I'm there to walk them through it and then I can come home and we'll have a relaxing week until you have to be back in messy Hollywood."

"It's just Los Angeles, not Hollywood, genius. I still work at a university just like you do," you laugh at her exaggerated version of the place you now call home.

She rolls her eyes, stepping away from her food to grab her keys. "Same difference. It's all polluted air and earthquakes anyway."

Finally finished with your task, you stand up to snatch the keys out of her hand and lead the way to the garage. "Whatever, I'm in clean air now and would really like to be able to experience it. So I'll be dropping you off and getting to my hike."

You get out of the car and the sun immediately hits your skin, not in a way that’s intense but rejuvenating, bringing you back to life. The scent of early spring, mixed in with the sweet smell of freshly bloomed rhododendron sparks a further revival. The air really is different here. Life is more…undisturbed.

Families are getting out of their vehicles without a crushing sense of urgency that you’re used to, people are laughing and enjoying each other’s company and you’ve been to this park before so you feel somewhat comfortable navigating the terrain on your own, opting to quiet the sounds of the world by listening to a podcast during your leisurely stroll. Without even making it a mile on the trail, you spot a friendly black dog making his way over to you, nudging your leg with his wet nose, essentially demanding that you pet him. You usually probably wouldn’t have but the serene energy of the space you’re in brings it out of you.

“Well hello there, buddy. Who do you belong to?” You bent down to search for a name on his collar. “Dylan, that’s a cute name. Should we go find who you came here with before someone has a heart attack?” You laughed softly as the dog happily panted away and let you grab onto the leash. Before you could even take a step, you heard a booming voice calling out the dog’s name.

The distressed figure comes into view and lets out a sigh of relief. “Oh my gosh, thank you so much for grabbing him. I’m so sorry if he’s bothering you, I bent down to tie my shoe and this guy decided to make a break for it.”

“He’s taking advantage of the fact that you only have one good arm.” You point out, remembering the shoulder surgery announcement you saw in the LA Times. The man was probably getting used to having both arms again. “No worries, he’s sweet. And super friendly.” You handed him the leash and he thanked you again.

“I seriously owe you, my mom would’ve killed me if I lost our dog when I just got home.” He chuckles nervously. God his laugh was cute. “I’m sorry, I never got your name. I’m Justin.”

“I know.” You smile. “It’s nice to meet you though, I’m y/n. Hope you enjoy the rest of your hike.” You grabbed your AirPods and went to place them back in your ears to finish getting lost in your own little world once again before he stops you.

“Wait—maybe we could finish out the hike…together? You know, just so Dylan doesn’t take advantage of me again.” Maybe he was just being cautious because there was no way he was flirting with you…right?

Those green eyes were going to get you in trouble and you knew it. But you were on a beautiful scenic getaway and hiking with Justin Herbert wasn’t going to come around every single day.

“Let’s do it. Wouldn’t want you to hurt your shoulder even more chasing after Dylan. Bolt nation might collectively collapse if anything happens to you so I’m calling this a public service.”

He unsuccessfully tries to stifle a laugh. “What a Good Samaritan you are.”

Justin was funny. And sweet. And the most fun company you’ve had in a while. You talked about your job, the entire NCAA tournament and what you both thought about being in LA. Even though you both lived very different lives, it was filled with sports and schedules and meetings and practices and there were a lot of things to bond over. Before you knew it you’d been out there for three hours and Rachel texted you to let you know she was done and ready to resume your sisterly activities. He took a look at your deflated expression.

“Do you need to head out?”

“Yeah, unfortunately.” You whispered. “This was fun though.”

He readjusts the hat on his head. “Yeah this was great. Um, I meant what I said earlier though. I owe you.” He gestures towards the phone in your hands and you hand it to him watching him type in his number, texting himself immediately so he has yours.

“Maybe we could grab dinner or something before you head back to LA?” He states pensively, holding his breath a bit until you answer.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

The two of you head back to the parking lot and you give Dylan one more pat on the head. You look up to meet Justin’s gaze, shy smiles painting both of your faces. He walked you all the way to your car and waved goodbye as you drove away to meet Rachel.

While you waited all you could do was stare at your phone, Justin had given you his number and you had his. He’d put his actual contact information in your phone AND had asked you to go to dinner. None of this felt like real life, what kind of person stumbles upon an NFL quarterback on a normal hike?

“Why are you smiling like that? It scares me.” Chloe interrupts your thoughts. You hadn’t even realized she opened the door and got in the car. “Did that hike change your life or something?” She finished with a dry laugh.

“I’m not sure, but I think it may have…”

Rachel nods her head slowly, desperately hoping to understand what’s going on. “Yeah okay whatever. Let’s get some lunch because I am absolutely starving.”

You put the car in drive, your phone notifying you of a text from its spot on the dashboard car mount. Rachel grabs it and asks, “who the hell is Justin and why is he asking if you’re free tomorrow night?”

“Just some guy I met while hiking, no big deal,” you tried and failed to be nonchalant. She knew you way better than that.

“If it’s really no big deal then tell that to the gigantic smile on your face. You’re going on that date. I’m texting him back to let him know you’ll be free.”

All that Chloe knows is his name. The rest of it you decide to keep to yourself not only to respect his privacy but you want to keep this special thing for you and only you. In case this doesn’t go anywhere, you’ll always have the memory of today and whatever happens on Friday to look back on fondly. And by telling your sister you’re putting a little bit more pressure on it, like this has to become something. You don’t really know this guy yet, only the small tidbits that he shared on the walk and that his family dog’s name is Dylan, who would run away with any stranger if enough treats were offered.

There are so many things going through your mind as you change your outfit for the fourth time tonight. What if he thinks you’re boring? Or he’s boring? What happens if the two of you run out of things to say and you’re just sitting in the restaurant in awkward silence until someone decides to call it a night? Even worse, what if this is the best date you ever go on, you fall for him and then never hear from him again because he’s an NFL quarterback and you sometimes spend three hours a day planning out breakfast options for 18-22 year old basketball players.

You glanced in the mirror, slinging a tiny black purse over your shoulder with a subtle smirk on the way out the door at your final clothing choice. Chloe mentioned that the car outside being a super nice Porsche and you made something up about thinking that he worked in finance or a job closely related to that so she wouldn't keep digging for more information. All she followed up with was "have fun and be safe."

Ambrosia's staff walked you and Justin into the restaurant by the back entrance into a private room, which was the most abnormal part of the night. The rest of the evening was spent consuming seafood stuffed mushrooms, pasta and sharing a classic tiramisu, the best one you'd ever had in your life.

The nerves that once seeped through every pore were quickly replaced with what a vacation was supposed to feel like. Conversation flowed easily, there was no pressure to be perfect or funny or overly sexy. Justin was so…normal. He was pretty, not in a way that was intimidating because you really weren’t sure he realized how attractive he actually is. But pretty in a sense that everything about him made him more attractive. His ability to actively listen to the words you say and bring them back up when it’s relevant. The way his dimples are more pronounced when he laughs. The way he stops mid conversation to say thank you to the service staff every time they refill his water. There wasn’t a bone in his body that wasn’t filled with humility and kindness. Everything he did was gentle. And on top of all of that he paid without hesitation.This date truly had been a breath of fresh air.

“Thank you for tonight, I had a lot of fun.”

His lips curl into a smile, “this was probably the best first date I’ve had.” He doesn’t know why he’s just admitted that to you, but he’s glad it’s out there now.

“Me too,” you stand up out of your chair after he does, a collection of butterflies appearing in your stomach when he places a hand on the small of your back, before encasing his hand with yours to lead you out of the restaurant.

“When are you heading back to LA?” He asks. You only know that because you’re reading his lips and not listening to a word he’s saying. You really want to kiss him.

You hesitate to lean in, bringing your focus back to his eyes, meeting his soft gaze. “I’ll be here for a couple more days, then it’s back to work. What about you?”

“Tomorrow…” he begins, slowly losing his train of thought when a little bit of the light goes out in your eyes. Should he kiss you before he leaves in the morning or wait until you’re both back in California with busy schedules and no clue if and when you’ll see each other again? “…I don’t want to leave now due to some unforeseen circumstances,” he laughs, “unfortunately I’ve got some stuff to take care of. But I’ll call you and we can maybe do this again?”

“Yeah. Definitely. I’ll see you around.” He gave you a warm hug on the way out and you watched him walk away to his car, smiling to yourself at the thought of a second date. You couldn’t wait for that phone call.

Two weeks later...he still hasn’t called. You would’ve been surprised had you not prepared yourself for this very scenario. Even with all of this so-called “preparation,” the radio silence from him still stung. Who would’ve thought this would happen? The NFL quarterback is busy with his offseason recovery while the girl he went on one singular date with continues to replay minute by minute interactions they had. No one could’ve seen this coming. The thought of that date feels like so long ago and the fact that you can remember it in vivid detail is a feels a little humiliating. You can’t even look at an Apple Watch without your stomach ending up in knots.

You've closed your office door today, taking a few hours to yourself in between meetings. Earlier in the day you and the rest of the staff had to sit through a Tyr presentation, listening to the representatives of the brand try to sell you their endurance sports drink and leaving you with some samples. Then you had CLIF come in with some new energy chew flavor samples for the guys to try. All of the boxes of products now sat in your office and you really hoped to spend the rest of the day going through the food budget, managing receipts and preparing for your first year presentations for when the new freshman arrived sometime in June. You were glancing back and forth between Whole Foods receipts and Amazon orders when your phone rang. Too busy and in the middle of crunching numbers, you ignored the call. Then it started ringing again. You stop what you're doing, assuming that if someone is calling you twice in a row, it must be urgent. The contact name flashing on the screen has you frozen in time.

It was Justin.

Even though you've been alone in your office for a while, you look around to make sure you're not making this up and this is actually happening. He's calling you. Finally.

"Hello? Who is this?" You can hear him shuffling around, probably walking around in a circle aimlessly just like you are. Despite your best efforts to seem unfazed.

"I deserve that," he cringes. "I'm so sorry for not calling you sooner."

"What—what made you call me now?"

He can tell your voice is softer than when you first answered, and he missed hearing it. "Um...life got a little ahead of me and that's not an excuse. I just—didn't want you to think that I wasn't ever going to call," he pauses, "can I make you dinner? Tonight? If you're free. And we can talk in person."

You look at the door with a sigh, contemplating your entire existence. And then you think...fuck it. "Yeah sure, I'm free tonight. Text me your address and I'll be there around 7?"

"Seven works, I'll see you tonight."

His house is perfectly spotless. There is just no way that a single adult man in his 20s is naturally this organized and clean. Even the cat, who he introduces to you as Nova, a gorgeous Bengal walks around like she owns the place, greeting you briefly (sizing you up) before trotting away without a second glance. Justin walks you into the kitchen where he's in the middle of plating the meal. He just looked good doing normal things, filling glasses of water, opening and closing the fridge, taking off his apron. You really needed to get a grip. "It smells great in here chef, what's on the menu?"

He laughs a little, presenting his dish like he's the star of a Food Network show. "Tonight I've made for you a Traeger filet mignon seasoned with the Traeger seasoning and chimichurri sauce with a side of roasted garlic mashed potatoes and asparagus."

You happily clap for his A+ presentation and he gives you a bow. "Justin, this looks amazing! I can't wait to dig in."

The man leads you to the table, setting the plate down in front of you before grabbing a seat right next to you. "So...let me explain."

Taking a bite of your food, you shake your head. "You really don't have to explain yourself, we went on one date. There's nothing to explain I mean—”

"Yeah there is. I want you to know that I wanted to call sooner, I really did. But I came back and had to meet with doctors to make sure my recovery was on track and then the draft happened and then I had to talk about the future of my contract and I didn't want the craziness of my life to overshadow what we have going on. The last thing I wanted was for you to feel like you're being put on the backburner."

Unbeknownst to you, he had also been replaying that date...more often that he'd like to admit. Anytime he had a minute to himself he thought about calling, seeing what you're doing. And then there was a meeting, or a draft party or someone needing him to be somewhere. But you were always on his mind and he was glad to now have life slow down a little bit to show you he really did care.

"I get it. Definitely thought you forgot about me there for a second. A few seconds," you correct yourself. "But I knew you were busy and we're here now so you're forgiven. Especially because this steak is incredible."

"Well thank you," he smiles sheepishly.

He begged you not to help him clean up but you insisted. After everything was put away he gave you a tour of the place and then you sat on the couch looking for a movie to watch until the stack of puzzles on the shelf caught your eye.

"You haven't unwrapped this one. Is it new?" You note the plastic wrap lining the box on the shelf meeting you at eye level. The flowers look familiar but you can't exactly remember where you've seen them before.

“There's a lot of flowers at the park we met. Any rhododendron I see now," he nods at the box in your hand, "makes me think of you. So I bought this. Figured we could do it together.” The way he's looking at you when you turn around makes you feel warm and tingly inside.

Something about being with him is addicting. You feel physically drawn to him, this pull, an invisible hold that he has on your heart that soon makes you want to run for the hills. But you know that the second you’re away from him it’ll feel like an important new part of your life has been ripped away. It almost felt like the universe had sent Justin to you as an apology for all men. Even doing something as simple as a puzzle feels like the most romantic thing in the world. All of the pieces are laid out on the table and you tackle the corners first, working from the outside in. You're sitting so close to each other that your arms are touching, reaching and grabbing at the puzzle pieces in sync like a well oiled machine. He pulls you into his lap toward the end when there's a few pieces left, giving you a high five when all 300 pieces are in their rightful place. Your hand is in his once again, like it belongs there, holding you close and steady.

He lets you go momentarily to cup your face, a look of adoration adorning his that makes your chest clench. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you for the last 22 days," Justin whispers, his face so close to yours you can feel his breath on your lips.

"Then why are you still waiting?" You whisper back, barely able to finish your sentence because he's nipping at your bottom lip, teasing you slightly as he runs his thumb across your jaw. You're a puddle in his hands, his lips on yours kissing you with his heart pounding against his chest like he's never kissed anyone before. The kiss is so simple yet the most intense experience either of you have been a part of and you want more. Both of you are fighting for dominance, a somewhat rough dance of tongues and a little bit of teeth increasing in intensity the longer the kiss lasts. You moan into his mouth, feeling him begin to stand at attention underneath you, deepening the kiss by pulling him in even closer by his hair. The other hand is wrapped around his thigh, squeezing his leg and producing goosebumps across his entire body. He had to take a few moments to recover, slightly out of breath at the kiss that he was convinced had just changed his life. "Was that worth the 22 day wait?" You ask with a laugh, holding his head in your hands.

He nods, still incapable of speech, blowing out a breath of relief when the tightness in his pants continues to go down. You lazily make out throughout the entirety of whatever movie he puts on, more than making up for lost time.

You have to be at the facility early for morning workouts so Justin walks you out to your car, pulling you in for one more kiss. "Text me when you get home so I know you made it safe?"

"I will."

Justin lays in bed that night looking at your goodnight text, already planning the third date in his head because he needs to somehow make it better than tonight was. He doesn't have any ideas yet, he just knows he can't get enough of you.

One year later...

You were back in Eugene at your favorite park, ready to get back to your favorite scenery.

"Are you excited?" You ask Dylan, who barks excitedly as you hold onto his leash. That must mean yes.

Justin laughs beside you, grabbing onto your hand. "You ready?" He gives you a kiss on the forehead before the three of you begin your hike.

[kjdkive]

accidentally revealing you're engaged — CL16

top actress! yn and f1 pilot! charles leclerc 

“you know, chloe, i am very scared of red carpets because it means interviews and questions and i hate them, why can’t we all just watch the premier in peace and in comfy clothes?” you ask your manager. 

“you talk a lot when you’re nervous.” she says. 

“i know and i am sorry.” you tell her. “i get anxious because you never know if they can twist your words. but whatever, i’ll be fine, right? like it’s nothing serious, right, chloe?” 

“we’re here.” chloe replies and waits for one of the bodyguards to open your door and let you walk out. “you’ll be fine.” she says before you get off the car. 

as soon as you get off you hear the screaming from the fans and you run to them so you’re able to take as many pics and sign as many autographs as you can before security tells you to stop. 

but the part that you loved the most is over, now is posing and then interviews. 

“yn! let us see the back of the dress!” you listen to the paparazzis and you turn around. you keep posing the way you’re being asked to, expecting for the pictures to maybe not look perfect but just fine. 

and the posing is over! now it’s the interviews. 

you’re 3 interviews down of 5 to go and your manager and your bodyguard are behind you supporting you, mouthing “you got this!” which makes you laugh. 

“hi, y/n, it’s so nice to meet you. i am kate and i am from know-it-all magazine.” 

you have to be honest, you had never heard from them. 

“hi, kate, nice to meet you too.” you smile at her. 

“i’m loving your dress, it fits perfectly! can you tell us who you’re wearing?” 

“of course, i am wearing a custom-made oscar de la renta which is a huge honour.” 

“are you excited to be here? i mean, you’re probably going to get asked out a lot because you’re a single woman now.” 

“uh, yeah…” what did she just say? this is what you didn’t want to happen, questions that are not normal and that you do not want to answer. 

“can you give a few tips to women who now are after charles?” 

okay. now you didn’t understand what was going on. what the hell is happening? 

“did you just ask me to give tips to women who like charles? as in what he likes and stuff?” 

“yeah, i mean, you broke up.” 

“we broke up?” you ask her, shocked. 

“yeah, that’s what everyone is saying.” she never stops smiling which is creepy and annoying you. 

“can you hold on a second?” you ask and she nods. 

you grab your phone from your pocket because yes, your dress had pockets. right now, a blessing and a curse. your manager was about to stop you but what you were about to do was going to be funny. you scroll a little bit through your phone, dial some number and put it on speaker.

“hey, charles! i’m on an interview and you’re on speaker, okay?” 

“hey, baby, yes, what’s up?” he giggles. “why are you calling me charles, though? did i do something?” 

“i think you did.” you laugh. “did we break up?” 

“what?” he asks, almost yelling. “did we?” he asks now more calmly but confused. 

“i mean, i don’t think so.” 

“as far as i know, babe, we’re engaged so you’re kind of stuck with me.” 

you roll your eyes laughing. 

“i know, right? thanks for letting me know though, i’ll call you later after i’m done, babe.” 

“m’kay, i love you!” 

“love you too, baby, bye!” 

you hang up and you look at the interviewer. 

“does that answer your question?” 

“it totally does. thank you so much, hope you have lots of engaged fun tonight.” 

“i will, thank you.” 

you start walking away from the camera but you hear chloe whisper to the interviewer: “she’s kind and naive but next time, ask better questions. just be thankful for now.” chloe could be a very scary person. 

“i think you’re going to go trending and you’ll also make a lot of money to that magazine.” chloe laughs. “good job.” 

“thanks? i guess.” you look at her. “charles fucked up, though, we were supposed to keep our engagement a secret.”

“you know how he is, he could never keep a secret.”