#icanteven

[especially-obsessed]

#icanteven

pt. 5

#icanteven - The Neighbourhood 

“I can’t even, I can’t even believe what you did to me You can’t even, you can’t even say I’m overreacting I can’t even, can’t even hear your side Shame on me, you fooled me twice”

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: series; Sam cheats on you.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader, Dean Winchester x reader, Castiel x reader (briefly)

Warnings: descriptions of depression, guilt, anger, descriptions of infidelity, fluff, smut (sam x other woman)

Word count: 4.1k

DEAN POV

Dean pulled his duffle bag strap over his shoulder and held the Impala’s keys in his hand. He couldn’t wait to leave this godforsaken motel. He’s stayed in his fair share of sketchy places, but this was by far the worst. Never in his time on the road, has he been curled up in bed, unsure of what his foot was touching, only for it to be a condom – and a used one at that. He physically recoiled at the thought again and slammed the motel room door behind him. Good riddance. 

He slipped into the driver’s side of the Impala, a motion that was thoughtless now, and jammed the keys into the ignition. The rumble of the car's engine soothed him in a way he didn’t know he craved just then. It was such a subconscious notion, that he barely even noticed it on a good day, which today was. Or it was about to be. He clasped the gear shifter in his hand, and threw the car into reverse, glancing over his shoulder to ensure there were no small children before backing out of the parking space. He thrust the car into drive and sped out of the parking lot, not caring if he left tire marks behind. It deserved it after the hell he just went through. 

Dean was four hours from the bunker, and he couldn’t wait to crawl into his own bed. His bed, which had clean(ish) sheets, and a blanket free of mysterious stains. His hand reached for the sound dial and his ears were flooded with a prominent mid-range frequency; the vocals were centered in the midrange and accompanied by a solid low-end from the bass guitar. Dean trilled his fingers along the steering wheel to the beat as he drove. He let his mind wander as the scenery around him changed from fields of whisping barley to dense forest, back to fields of open nothingness. 

He thought about the current song that was playing on the local classic rock station. It was generic and quite honestly, overplayed, but nonetheless, a classic. Especially during the time that it was produced, it was a masterpiece. Hell, it still is. His mind suddenly thought of you, and the argument you once got into over who had better music. Dean, of course, argued that Led Zepplin had the best music of all time (only because it was a tie between his two favorite songs of all time, “Ramble On” and “Traveling Riverside Blues”). You, on the other hand, argued Van Halen.

“Are you kidding me?” Dean had said, white-knuckling the steering wheel. He glanced over at you, with a grin plastered on your face. 

“I am dead serious,” you replied, trying to hide your grin, but Dean could see right through it. 

“Van Halen isn’t even in the same category as Zep, how could you say that?” 

“They rank right up there for me, along with Aerosmith and CCR,” you claimed. Dean was astonished, not sure if you were just trying to mess with him, or if you were being serious. You tilted your head back and let out a laugh, and Dean laughed with you. He glanced over and watched your hand as it rested on the open window ledge of the Impala, moving up and down in the breeze. The wind whipped around the stray hairs that framed your face. 

Dean smiled at the memory, glancing over at the passenger seat. The image of you had faded, now replaced with an empty seat bench and a couple of cassette tapes strewn about. He let out a heavy sigh and his smile fell, his lips pressed together in a firm line. Prior to this moment, Dean refused to let himself think about you in such a large capacity. Once a memory popped up, he did his damndest to shut it down. It hurt too much to think about the times you had spent together. 

A familiar sound slowly built through the car’s speakers as the radio station transitioned from the previous song, and Dean was pulled back from his thoughts. He recognized the bass marimba and electric bass immediately. It was the intro to “Sweet Emotion” by Aerosmith. Before giving it a second thought, his hand went to the dial once again and increased the volume. Dean’s grin slowly crept back to his lips and he rolled the window down. He laid his foot down heavier on the gas pedal as he drove down the road. 

Y/N POV

You heard the familiar sound of the bunker door creek open and slam shut behind itself. Your heart pounded in your chest. For a split second, you thought about bolting. If you got up now, you could run to the kitchen, wait for him to disappear in his room, and then sneak out without a trace. 

Suddenly, a hand was resting on yours. You looked up to meet Castiel’s icy blue eyes. His hand squeezed yours, reassuring you that this was the right decision. You took a deep breath and turned your head to the sound of his heavy footsteps descending the iron stairs. 

“Cass!” He called, echoing through the bunker halls. “You would not believe the week I’ve had, man. This motel was such a–,” he stopped mid-sentence, his boots landing on the concrete floor at the bottom of the stairs. The silence is deafening as the two of you stare at each other. You sit up from where you were seated with Cass at one of the library tables and take a few steps toward Dean, who is still frozen in place. You are unable to read his facial expression. There were no indicators as to if he was mad or upset; happy or elated. Panic floods your body, realizing that he is not happy to see you. He should have said something by now. This was a mistake. This–

Before your brain can fully process what is happening, Dean drops his duffle bag to the floor and moves towards you, fast. He doesn’t speak a single word, nobody does. You expect him to walk right past you and to his bedroom, harshly knocking your shoulder as he goes by. A final fuck you before you leave for good this time. Instead, he closes the space between the two of you and wraps his arms around you. He buries his face into your shoulder, inhaling deeply. His embrace was warm and firm, his hold on you unwavering. 

You had been craving this moment since the day you had left the bunker. It was a deep, hunger buried far below the surface, now awoken with the feeling of him holding you close. Leaving Sam was painful, sure. But you physically ached at the loss of Dean. The loss of your best friend. You felt your heart race at the thought, unsure of how you were ever able to leave in the first place. You had left the one person behind who could have helped you heal. 

Dean was the first to pull away from you, but he would be damned if he let you go just yet. He placed his hands on either side of your face, almost as if to distinguish if you were really there before him or not. You instinctively leaned into his touch and smiled. Tears welled in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. 

“Hi Dean,” you said softly. Dean let out a chuckle and smiled down at you. 

“Hi y/n,” he replied, his voice wavering slightly.

“Can I have my face back now?” You asked playfully. Dean only looked back at you, smiling at your sarcastic comment. However, he didn’t move his hands. He gently stroked his thumb across your face, brushing away a stray tear that fell down your cheek. You cursed that tear for betraying you and brought up your hands to rest on Dean’s. Shakily, you pulled his hands from your face and held them in your own. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked quietly, staring down at your connected palms. 

“I missed you,” you whispered, admitting this to yourself for the first time. You stared at him, willing him to look up at you. As if hearing your thoughts, he looked up at you then. His eyes were swimming with emotion; pain and happiness all swirling together. You were lost in his eyes, which were as green as the first leaves after a winter. They held a captivating allure, whispering secrets of the wild, drawing you into their mesmerizing depths. Dean squeezed your hands, slamming you back into reality. 

“I missed you, too,” he spoke softly. Your heart skipped a beat, and it took everything inside you not to cry right then and there. Heat rose to your cheeks. You let go of his hands and backed away from him slightly, not missing the slight twinge of hurt that spread across his face, before being wiped away quickly. 

“I got you something,” you said, quickly trying to recover before his mind spiraled. His face picked up on the mention of a gift. You turned back towards the table you had been sitting at with Cass. You expected to still see him sitting there, waiting for the moment between you and Dean to pass to pick up your conversation from before. But he was gone. 

You moved to where your bag was resting on one of the chairs and pulled out a box. You hid it behind your back as you turned back to Dean. He was resting his shoulder cooly on the entryway to the war room, standing a few inches from the small staircase that descended. You couldn’t help but smile at his nonchalant demeanor, even after the moment you just shared. You pushed the thought away and stood a few feet from him, excited about what you were going to give him. He watched you carefully, grinning. 

You moved the box from behind your back and displayed it with both hands in front of you. Dean’s face lit up immediately, first seeing the box’s contents. It was a medium-sized box, with a clear plastic middle that displayed a freshly baked apple pie. A small crust heart was baked in the pastry top's middle. You motioned for him to take the box from you, and he didn’t hesitate. 

“Grand Traverse Pie Company,” he read aloud, examining the box. The smile never left his face and was spreading like wildfire to your own features. 

“I just finished a hunt up in Northern Michigan,” you explained, rushing to fill the silence. Your heart pounded anxiously in your chest. “I decided to make a stop on my way back down. I remember you telling me about how your dad stopped there once when you were a kid.” 

You watched Dean’s facial expression change. For a moment, you thought that you had made a mistake. You were struggling to read Dean. Hell, almost everything he had done since he got back was hard to read. The thought broke your heart, unknowingly forgetting things you had taken for granted just over a year ago. 

“I can’t believe you reimbursed that,” he said softly. He slowly looked up at you, his eyes glossed over. You had barely ever seen him this emotional before. He gave you one of those patented grins, like a child with candy — or pie. It hit you then, just exactly what he was thinking. You cocked your head to the side slightly and grinned back at him. 

“Right now?” You asked, already knowing his answer. 

“Uh, yeah right now,” he said, walking right past you. He made a beeline for the kitchen, tossing a quick glance over his shoulder at you. You turned to follow him quickly, as you watched him vanish around the corner. In the kitchen, Dean whipped open a drawer and pulled out two forks. He hands a fork to you, which you eagerly take, and uses both hands to ever so slightly slides the lid of the box up. In this moment, as you watch Dean’s face practically glowing as he adores the pie through the box window, you imagine yourself in a cartoon-like scenario. The radiant sunbeams illuminate Dean’s face as if Heaven’s light is being cast on him; the box's edges acting as bumpers to the light's edges and following the lid's edges. You smiled at the thought and looked back to a normal Dean, licking his lips as the lid falls behind the box. 

Dean wastes no time now slicing the pie into pieces, albeit overly sized. 

The two of you sat at the kitchen counter, the metal cool against your forearms. You wiped your face and watched Dean shovel in one last bite of pie. There were crumbs on his face, and you instinctively reached out to brush them off. Dean stiffened when he noticed this, and you quickly drew your hand away. He just as quickly wiped at his mouth to brush the crumbs away. Awkward. Dean cleared his throat and set down his fork. He looked up at you as if he had something he was dying to tell you. But you beat him to the punch. 

“So,” you said, clearing your own throat. “What have you guys been up to?” The corner of Dean’s mouth turned up slightly, remembering the past few months. He gently pushed the empty plate away from him and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Cass and I have been all over the place lately. It’s a messed up world out there,” he said cooly as if it were the company line. “I was just in the absolute worst motel I’ve ever been in.” 

“Yikes,” you breathed, knowing that it had to be bad for Dean to bring it up. 

“Yeah, I don’t even want to talk about it,” he agreed, reaching out for his beer that rested on the table. He took a long swig, and you watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. A sinking feeling started in the pit of your stomach, and you looked away from him, knowing this familiar feeling. Dean noticed the change in your body language. “How have you been?”

You looked up at him again and smiled, a big, genuine smile that made Dean’s chest flutter. 

“It’s been great,” you said sarcastically. “Alone, out on the open road, the wind rushing through my hair,” you continued, throwing your hair dramatically over your shoulder. Dean let out a soft chuckle at your dramatics. You reached for your own beer and took a swig. “No, it’s been okay. I needed to take some time, clear my head. I was pretty messed up there for a while,” you said, letting the words fall easily. A weird wave of relief washed over you finally being able to admit that to yourself, let alone someone else. 

“He’s not here,” Dean said abruptly. You almost spit out your beer at his words. You looked at him with wide eyes, not knowing what to say. He cocked his head to the side slightly. “C’mon, someone had to bring him up.”

“I honestly wasn’t sure if I wanted to know,” you replied, a weird sense of relief and…sadness taking over. You were surprised at the latter, not expecting to feel sad in Sam’s absence. Dean could see the contradiction on your face, your own emotions betraying you. And if he were being honest with himself, they were doing the same to him, too. 

“He moved out,” he said. What Dean didn’t say was that he more or less kicked Sam out over what he had pulled with you a few months before. He came home upset and looking to confide in Dean. But Dean wasn’t hearing a poor sob story from his younger brother about losing his girl. No, all he heard was how Sam managed to hurt you yet again after you had done absolutely nothing to deserve it. Dean’s fists clenched at the thought, and he lowered them to his lap under the table, hiding them from your line of vision. “He didn’t have much of a choice in the matter,” Dean added. 

“You didn’t have to-”

“I couldn’t look him in the eye, y/n,” Dean’s eyes were pleading with you. He finally understood how you had felt when all of this first started. The only thing that kept the boys together was a familial bond; the Winchester brothers' family line of toxic codependence. But Dean was no longer blind to his brother’s actions, and he was no longer ignorant to his feelings for you. 

You were speechless. 

There was no air left in your lungs. 

You stood slowly, your heart pounding so loudly it nearly drowned out the world around you. Every step you took around the table felt like crossing into something unknown and inevitable. When you reached his side, you paused for just a heartbeat, and then you placed your hands on either side of his face, your fingers brushing against his skin, warm and soft beneath your touch.

"Dean…" you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you felt but hadn’t yet said.

His eyes flickered down to your lips and back up, his own parting slightly, and you could feel the tension pulling you closer — like gravity, like fate. His hands rose slowly, fingers grazing your waist before settling there, tentative and gentle.

"I—" he started, but whatever words he meant to say were lost as you leaned in. Your lips met his softly at first, a question in the touch. But when he answered — when his mouth pressed back against yours with quiet desperation — the question turned into certainty.

The kiss deepened, fierce and urgent, as his hands slid up your back, drawing you closer until there was no space left between you. His fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head as he claimed your mouth with a passion that stole your breath. The heat of him, the way his heart raced under your palms — it was overwhelming, intoxicating. Time unraveled, and the only thing that mattered was the way he kissed you, as though you were the only thing keeping him breathing.

When you finally pulled back, just enough to rest your forehead against his, your chest rose and fell in time with his, both of you breathless and trembling. His eyes were still closed, his breathing uneven, and when he finally opened them, that forest-green gaze was filled with wonder and fire.

"I think I’m in love with you," you whispered.

His smile was slow, radiant. "Good," he murmured, brushing his thumb across your cheek. "Because I’ve been in love with you for a while now."

The loud groan and squeal of the bunker door shattered the quiet intimacy. You turned toward the noise, assuming that it was Cass leaving. But the sound of footsteps faintly grew closer, and your stomach dropped when you saw him — Sam —- round the corner into the kitchen. The air grew heavier and colder, the old hurt flaring up at the sight of him. A year ago, Sam had shattered your heart when he cheated on you, but the pain of that betrayal still felt fresh. His expression froze as he took in the scene before him — you still tangled up in Dean’s arms, your face flushed, your breath still uneven.

"I—" Sam started, but you cut him off with a sharp look; your first instinct to take the defense. 

"Don’t," you said, your voice low and tight. "I have nothing to say to you."

Dean’s arms tightened around you protectively, his eyes hardening as they met his brother’s. "You heard her, Sam," he said, his voice calm but firm. "This isn’t your business."

Sam’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t move. "I just… I didn’t mean—"

"Whatever you didn’t mean, it’s done," Dean interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You’ve hurt her enough. You don’t get to walk in here and make this about you."

The silence stretched, heavy and charged, until finally, Sam nodded, his shoulders slumping. Without another word, he turned and walked away; moments later, the sound of the door closing behind him like a finality. Your whole body jumped at the sound, and Dean’s arms tightened around you instinctively. 

He turned back to you then, his hand coming up to cup your face. "You okay?" he asked softly.

You nodded, leaning into his touch. "I am now," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. His eyes softened, his thumb brushing away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. 

A few days later, Dean found Sam sitting on the front steps leading into the bunker, his shoulders hunched and his face drawn with regret. Without a word, Dean sat down beside him.

"I messed up," Sam said quietly after a long silence. "I didn’t mean to hurt her — or you. And I don’t know how to fix it."

Dean stared ahead, his jaw tight. "You can’t just fix something like this, Sam. You broke her trust — and mine. You cheated on her, and that’s not something you just brush off. But if you’re serious about making things right, you start by owning what you did. No excuses. No justifications. Just the truth."

Sam nodded slowly. "I want to. I just… I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive me."

"That’s not up to you," Dean said. "But if you want even a chance, you have to show her you’re willing to change — not just with words, but with actions. And you give her the space to decide when — or if — she’s ready."

The weight of Dean’s words settled heavily between them, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like they were on the same page.

"Thanks, Dean," Sam said, his voice rough. "For not giving up on me."

Dean glanced over at him, his expression softening just a little. "You’re my brother. That doesn’t mean I’m not still pissed at you. But I’m not giving up."

As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, they sat there in silence — two brothers trying to find their way back to each other, one step at a time.

In the weeks that followed, life slowly began to take shape again, as though the pieces of your world were being gently reassembled, one by one. You and Dean, despite the weight of everything you’d been through, found a rhythm together — a kind of quiet harmony that seemed to grow with each passing day. It was something warm and steady, something you hadn’t realized you needed until it was there. A love that felt like home, safe and sure, with no pretenses or expectations, just an understanding between the two of you that ran deeper than words.

The bunker, once a hollow and desolate space, transformed before your eyes. It no longer felt like a cold fortress of isolation; it began to echo with life. There was laughter now, spilling freely from both of you when Dean cracked some ridiculous joke or you both stumbled upon something that reminded you of a time before everything went wrong. Shared glances became your secret language, a silent comfort between two people who understood each other more than anyone else ever could. Even in the silence, there was a quiet joy in the small, mundane moments. Soft lamplight bathed the rooms in a warm glow, and late-night whispers became the soundtrack of your existence — secrets shared, plans made, and dreams that felt less impossible now.

Sam, on his own slow journey, had begun to talk about moving back in. It wasn’t an easy thing to bring up, and you could see the hesitation in his eyes, the weight of all that had transpired between you. His words were careful, measured, as if testing the waters to see if there was room for him again in your life. You weren’t sure if it would ever be the same, but there was a tentative hope in his voice, something that had been missing for so long. Forgiveness wasn’t easy. The wound he left still ached sometimes, a sharp reminder of the betrayal that had threatened to tear everything apart tore everything apart. But you were trying — for yourself, for him, and for Dean. 

You weren’t doing it alone. 

Not anymore.

It was clear that healing would take time — maybe a long time. But the cracks in the past, though still visible, were starting to feel less like chasms and more like stepping stones. There was something different now. Something that hadn’t existed before, a fragile but real sense of hope. It was small at first, flickering like a candle in the dark, but it was there. And for the first time in a long while, you felt the pull of something powerful. 

You felt like you were finally home again.

Series Masterlist

A/N: Unedited; Enjoy <3

Likes, reblogs, and follows are never expected but greatly appreciated! These let me know I should keep on doing what I’m doing! (:

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[flwrlilie]

[archihaven]

Source: http://sugarspicetwins.tumblr.com

[kat-luv]

Daily Song Recommendation #936

[lixzwithapen]

Gravity waves on a Cosmic Scale have been Observed!!!!!

Wtfwtfwtfwtf???!!!

I'm so fuckin hypeeeed any this!!!!

Aaaaaaah---

[autocat5876]

AND I LIVE TO RULE BY THE SWORD!! SLASHING THROUGH THE EVERY INCH OF THE POWER THE POWER IN YOU!!!! AS I SIT- AS I STAND- BY THE TABLE I COMMAND!!! MY KINGDOM.... IM THE KNIGHT OF THE WIND!!!!!!!!!!!

[hcuyk]

the neighbourhood is getting me THROUGH IT with this next scene

[especially-obsessed]

I'm Writing Again

Screw being busy with school. I am writing again and I am coming back in full force. I have two works in the making at the moment.

Any Sam Winchester or JJ Maybank fans?

One fic will be released by the end of November, TBD

And if any of you wanted a hint, here's the song I am using as inspiration for one of them:

**if anyone would like to be tagged in update posts or the fic posts themselves, please let me know (:

[victoriadallonfan]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

heart of the scorpion

[pansexualnerdpanic]

the only thing holding my phone together is a shit ton of tape qwq xD

[archihaven]

Source: http://thevirtualbuilder.tumblr.com

[allthingsdarkanddirty]

SERIES COVER REVEAL! The Carter Brothers series by Lani Lynn Vale is coming soon!   The Carter Brothers follows a family of seven rule-following, police officer brothers as they meet seven rule-breaking women that are bound and determined to follow their path to vengeance, no matter how many laws they have to break in the process.   Pre-order the Carter Brothers series today!   #1 No Cap https://books2read.com/u/4N8rLo #2 I Can’t Even https://books2read.com/u/bOE1xK #3 Thirst Trap https://books2read.com/u/3JLxjP #4 Clap Back https://books2read.com/u/bx9Enl #5 Rent Free https://books2read.com/u/47vMX7 #6 Time to Bounce https://books2read.com/u/bzrDgD #7 YOLO https://books2read.com/u/3L5aY0   Cover Design: Cover Me Darling Photographer: Golden Czermak

[cruel-as-sin]

you like to say that you're right | logan howlett

↳ summary: you’re bored when you and logan are about to be on the way home. so, you decide to have a little fun… but the consequences might be worse than you imagined

word count: 4.2k

song: #icanteven | the neighbourhood

pairings: old man!logan x fem!reader

content warnings: 18+ content (MDNI), smut, porn light plot, unprotected p in v (practice safe sex everyone!), established relationship, fingering, mean!logan, bratty reader, orgasm denial, rough sex, a little bondage, spanking (a couple times), predator/prey dynamics if you squint (listen….), possessive!logan, lots of marks and bruises, reader has a serious degradation kink, hair pulling, reader flirts with someone else to piss off logan (plays into their established dynamic), hints of misogyny (not from logan), aftercare, no use of y/n, pet names for reader - baby, sweetheart, whore, brat; consent is key here y’all (lmk if i missed anything!)

↳ a/n: okay so this wasn't supposed to be what i wrote next but i remembered a dream i had like a month ago at this point that started JUST like this does and i couldn't not deliver... so have some insight into the way my feral subconscious mind works lmao

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Logan knows how much you love to push his buttons. But even for you, this is a new level of crazy.

His grip on the steering wheel leaves his knuckles white as he watches you go. Across the parking lot, through the building of some random store. He’s pretty sure he can see some bullshit comic on display in the window.

When he catches you, you are in for it.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Five minutes.

That's how long you have before Logan follows you into the shop and rains down hell upon you.

Your heart has been pounding nonstop since you leaned over to him from the passenger seat of the limo, your eyes flickering past him to the couple on the curb. The girl was trying- and failing- to flirt with him, and even from that distance it was clear he was uninterested.

“You know,” You began. “That girl really can’t take a hint. It’s a little embarrassing.”

His eyes flickered over to you for a moment, narrowing at your tone of voice. “What are you doin’?”

“Nothing.” You said innocently. “I’m just saying, someone ought to go over there and show her how it’s done.”

“She’ll figure it out eventually.” He said dismissively, not buying into whatever scheme you’re trying to plan.

You hummed, leaning in a little further. “Guess it shouldn’t be me though, huh? Since apparently I can’t fucking get any other guys but you.”

Your words were an echo of his own a few days prior, one of the things he’d said when he was balls deep in you. You’d loved it, of course you did. You got off on him being mean to you, because you knew he never meant a word of it. And he told you as much at the end of every night, soft words and gentle kisses lulling you to sleep, wrapped in the safety of his strong arms and sworn promises.

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t use this to have a little fun.

So that’s exactly what you’d planned. His gaze had landed on you again, eyes narrowing further, his tone shifting to more of a warning. “Watch it.”

You’d only gone to this plaza to pick up some medicine for Charles- done. But you didn’t need to be back across the border for a while. So it wouldn’t hurt to, say, go into the bookstore across the street and have a look around.

“I bet I can pull any guy in there.” You said, pointing at the bookstore that rests across the parking lot outside your window.

“Is that so?” He was taking the bait- he couldn’t help it. He always did.

“Mhm. Give me five minutes, and I’ll have one of those poor boys wrapped around my finger.” You giggled. Giggled, as if your boyfriend wasn’t glaring daggers through you.

It was his turn to lean in, whispering in your ear. “If you go in there, sweetheart, I’m gonna make sure you can’t stand for the next week. You got that?”

His threat sent a pang of heat to your core. Sure, maybe this was stupid, because even if you did pull a guy, that would only piss him off more, but that’s why you liked it.

You gave him a coy smile before leaning over to open your door. “Five minutes.” Come and get me.

From the moment you got out of the car, you knew you'd fucked up- because he let you. You could feel his stare burning into you as you closed the door behind you, your heart beating so loud you were certain he'd be able to hear it the entire way through the parking lot.

Your steps were quick, hurried- not panicked, but there was a sense of urgency to your movements. The whole time you were walking through the parking lot, you wondered if this was a mistake, if you should just turn back now, fall to your knees and beg for his forgiveness before this went too far.

But it's too late now. You've already slipped through the door of the small establishment, sealing your fate with the ding of the bell and a click behind you.

The woman behind the counter looks up at you with a polite smile. "Welcome in! Is there anything I can help you find today?"

You return the smile with a slight shake of your head. "No, thank you. I'm just browsing."

She nods. "Let me know if you need any assistance."

You glance around the room, finding what you were looking for- a set of wooden steps, leading down to a basement. You head down slowly, finding the room below filled with comic books, action figures, and all sorts of trinkets.

Truthfully, you'd like to stay and look. But you're not here for that.

Pretty quickly, you spot a guy eyeing up the comic book section, as if he's searching for something in particular. You try the classic trick of wandering around the room appearing confused, wondering if he'll take the bait.

And, of course, he does. For a moment you almost feel bad that you're about to lead him on (and maybe bring down the wrath of your surely very angry boyfriend), but then he opens his mouth and all your regrets fly right out the window.

"What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" He says as he sidles up next to you. "Oh, you must be looking for a gift for someone, right?"

Yeah. Right. You internally roll your eyes, turning to face him with a wide smile.

"Actually, I was kind of hoping to start reading some comics myself." You admit, pretending to sound a little ashamed about it. "But I don't really know where to start." Your eyes light up, and before he can get out some sort of misogynistic remark, you continue. "You look like you know a lot about this stuff! Do you think you could help me?" You bite your lip in a nervous sort of way and bat your eyelashes at him.

Although he hides it, you can see him short-circuit for a moment, probably not used to so much attention from a pretty girl. I wonder why. But he comes back to his senses. "Of course I can. I'd be happy to help." He begins heading toward a set of shelves, and you follow him. "So many women get lost in this sort of stuff these days. They have no idea where to start, and just end up getting confused. I wouldn't want that to happen to you."

If Logan wasn't t-3 minutes away from storming down the stairwell, you'd punch this guy in the face.

Instead you smile at him like he's the smartest guy in the world. "Yeah, me neither. I was really worried I wouldn't be able to figure out what I wanted." You say with a giggle. "I mean, there's so many of them." You add, gesturing to the long shelves filled with comic books.

Honestly, you don’t even remember what the guy says next, or what you say back. You’re too busy thinking about Logan- he’s the real reason why you’re here, after all.

You know Logan is on his way. He has to be. And knowing that means knowing your punishment is imminent.

It's exhilarating, it's terrifying- but in a good way, in the best way. The hunt, the chase, the lying in wait for him to catch you- it’s one of the most incredible feelings in the world. And you know he loves it too.

The guy off-handedly and quite awkwardly mentions how he goes to a local store nearby for fan meetups, and you enthusiastically tell him you’d love to go with him someday. Blech.

Ding.

Even from down here, you pick up on it. You don't need anything else to know that it's him.

You swallow nervously, trying to keep your heart from jumping out of your throat. This was absolutely a mistake, the kind that was going to leave you begging for mercy the moment you two got home.

...but in for a penny, in for a pound, right?

He's already at the top of the stairwell when you reach out and put your hand on the other man's arm, laughing at whatever joke he'd just made- you hadn't even heard him over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.

Logan is down the stairs in seconds, a hand wrapping around your arm in an iron grip as he pulls you away from the guy. The guy takes a step back- it doesn’t take a genius to see the fury in Logan’s eyes as he leans down to mutter to you. "Come on. We're leaving."

You pout up at him, tugging lightly against his grip. “But I wanna stay and look at the comic books, baby.” An idea comes to mind, and you can’t suppress your grin. “Plus, I think some of them might have you in them!”

The guy is long gone now, and Logan is not amused by your attempt at a joke, his voice dropping to a tone you know even at your worst moments not to mess with. "Unless you want me to throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here like the brat you are, move. Now."

Yeah. Okay. You nod, squeaking out an “Mhm!” before he starts pulling you away.

As he drags you up the stairwell, you regain some of your composure and lean towards his ear to whisper. "Relax, baby. We wouldn't want to make a scene."

You're playing with fire and you know it- but he relents, his grip on your arm loosening, his hand instead reaching down to lace with your own, a hold that's just firm enough to remind you of who's in charge here. "Walk." He mutters under his breath, his voice a low, rough tone that sends a chill down your spine.

And so you do, waving a cheerful goodbye at the woman behind the counter and trying to pretend like you're not beading with sweat and dripping with arousal. Logan keeps his hand tightly laced with yours as you walk into the parking lot, opening the car door and giving you a gentle push into the passenger seat before slamming the door on you.

You get a single moment of peace before he comes around to the drivers side, getting in and starting up the car. You put on your seatbelt, knowing you've pushed your luck too far now to disobey him any further.

You open your mouth to speak, to try to diffuse the situation, but the look in his eyes as he drives silences you.

He shakes his head, muttering under his breath. "Had to go and piss me off, didn't you sweetheart?"

"It's not like I actually wanted him." You lean back in your seat, unable to foresee the consequences of your words until it's too late. "He was a misogynistic asshole. I should've punched him in the face." You grumble the last part under your breath, more for yourself than for Logan- but of course, he hears it anyway.

Slowly, he turns, his eyes landing on you.

"But you didn't, did you?"

You swallow, unable to get past the dryness in your throat and attempt to poorly defend yourself before he keeps going.

"No. You made him feel like he was somethin' special, actin' like you'd ever be with anyone but me." He shakes his head again, a chuckle escaping him. "Seems like I need to teach you a lesson."

Before you know it, you're home, the glowing light of sunset coming through the windows. Your pleas die on your lips as he comes to your side of the car, opening the door and dragging you outside and up the sidewalk.

"You know I didn't mean it, Lo-" You whine.

"Stop fuckin' talking." He grabs your jaw, holding it in place, squeezing your cheeks in a little too tightly- but you like it. "Just 'cause you didn't mean it doesn't mean you don't get in trouble, baby. That's not how it works."

Wordlessly, you nod. As best you can, anyway, given his death grip on your chin.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Get inside." He releases you with a rough shove, and you fumble for your keys when you get to the door, some part of your subconscious trying to delay the inevitable- no, trying to draw it out, because you love this feeling.

He follows you in, and he doesn't even have to tell you to head to the bedroom- he just gives a pointed nod towards the hallway, and you obey.

He corners you immediately, his large frame boxing you in against the wall. "You've been a bad, bad girl, sweetheart." One of his hands grips your waist.

"I didn't mean it-" You protest, but your words quickly turn to a sharp whine as he grabs a fistful of your hair, tilting your head back.

"What did I say?" His tone drops lower, a raspy sound that makes heat pool in your gut.

Instead of continuing to argue, you just nod, another gasp escaping you when he tightens his grip and pulls a little harder.

He leans in, his breath fanning across your neck, his teeth scraping your pulse point in the teasing way he knows to be your weakness. His mouth comes up beside your ear, a soft murmur that's by far the gentlest thing you're going to hear until he's done with you. "You remember your safe word, baby?"

You nod, whispering it back to him in confirmation.

"Atta girl." He says approvingly, pulling away and returning his mouth to your throat. His grip on your hair keeps your head back, exposing your neck perfectly to him. He nips and sucks at the skin, leaving marks that won't go away for days- claiming you.

He pulls back for a moment to admire his handiwork. You lean in to kiss him, but a tug at your hair pulls you back, stopping you. "You think you deserve that?”

A frown comes to rest on your face, but you shake your head.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He loosens his grip just a little. “You don’t get my fuckin’ mouth unless I’m puttin’ these on you, you understand?” He leans back in, pausing to murmur against your throat, “Lettin’ everybody know who you belong to.”

You nod in agreement- not like you have much of a choice- and he seems satisfied, nipping at your neck again. When he’s finished- Jesus Christ, you won’t be able to go out for days- he steps away, shrugging his blazer off of his shoulders and draping it atop the dresser.

His eyes are on you, a menacing stare that had you swallowing nervously before he’s even opened his mouth. “Strip.”

You don't hesitate to do as he says. You don't take your time, you don't give him a show- not tonight. You're smart enough not to fuck around now. Your clothes come off quickly- your shirt pulled over your head and tossed to the side, your bra unclasped and landing near the door, your pants and underwear pulled down in one swift motion and left pooled at your feet.

Logan wastes no time, wrapping his arms around your waste and picking you up with ease. He lays you down on the bed, mouth trailing down your body at a tantalizingly slow pace, leaving hickeys at every turn- you don’t even want to think about what you’ll look like tomorrow morning.

Finally, he reaches your thighs, and you inhale sharply as he leaves marks there too. Those always sting the most. Usually, he’d soothe the pain by moving his tongue to your clit, but his mouth strays nowhere near it today.

Instead he leans back, one of his hands trailing down your chest, the other holding you in place. His fingers move down past your clit, immediately heading to the wetness glistening between your folds. He swipes a finger through it, humming approvingly before he slowly works a finger inside you.

No matter how many times he’s filled you up this way, you’re always in awe of how even just one of his fingers can go so deep, please you so well. Your head is thrown back in bliss, and it isn’t long before a second one of his fingers joins the first.

He crooks his fingers up inside you, grinning when he hits that spongy spot that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. "There we go, that's the spot." You want to thank him, to verbally affirm his claims- but the moans leaving your lips will hopefully be enough to assure him that yes, that is the spot, and oh god please don’t stop.

It’s good, but not enough- and he knows it. He doesn’t touch your clit, doesn’t give you that final push over the edge. Instead he pulls his fingers out, placing them in your mouth. He doesn’t even want to taste you tonight. Obediently, you suck them clean, and he hums in satisfaction as he steps away, beginning to unbutton his shirt.

"Hands and knees, sweetheart." You do as you're told, a shudder going through you at the sound of his belt unbuckling. He roughly grabs your wrists, pinning them behind your back and securing them together with his belt. Moments later, you feel the tip of his cock press against your dripping folds.

You whine, instinctively trying to push back against him. One of his hands goes to your hair, grabbing it and holding you in place, while the other brings down a harsh smack against your ass. "Stay fuckin' put."

Another whine leaves your lips, but you bite your lip and stay still even as he smacks your ass again. "Say it." He growls, not taking your silence as an answer.

You nod furiously. “I’ll be good.” You say through shaky breaths.

“Good.” His hands move down to grip your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh so tightly you're sure you'll be covered in bruises the next morning.

He pushes into you slowly, stretching you out in a way that burns just how you like it. He gives you a moment to adjust- only a moment- before he pulls all the way out and slams back into you.

The pace he sets is nothing short of brutal, and he’s pretty quickly reduced you to a shaking mess. Still, as always, it’s not enough. You need more, you need him, you need-

"Lo-" You gasp, barely able to get out his name.

"Hm?" He seems entirely unbothered, his tone barely changed, as if he’s not currently fucking you senseless.

"I need-”

"What's that, baby?" He hums, thrusting harder. "Speak up, I can't hear you."

You can only respond with a broken moan, your words dying on your lips.

"Guess you must not want it that bad then." You can hear that cocky fucking smirk on his face, can practically see it when you close your eyes.

"Need to cum." You whine, your words slurred and almost incomprehensible.

"Oh, you think I'm gonna let you cum, sweetheart?" He scoffs, the condescension in his tone going straight to the pulse in your core. "After the shit you pulled, you think you earned that?"

“Please-” You beg. “Please, Lo, please, I’m sorry, please let me cum, I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, just let me cum, please, I didn’t mean it, you know I didn’t mean it-” You’ve lost track of what you’re even saying at this point, desperately racking your brain for anything you could say to convince him to let you cum, to move his fingers down to your clit and rub it in those sweet little circles that will have you coming undone in moments. “Lo, baby- Logan, please, I need to cum, please-” Your words die down into nothing but desperation, a few words barely able to be made out amongst the rest of your nonsense.

Surely, he must let you cum now. You’ve (metaphorically) groveled for him, that’s always worked before.

But his hands stay right where they are.

It's a little embarrassing, but you never could cum without pressure on your clit. Logan is the only man you've ever met who hasn't judged you for it, hasn't let it be a blow to his self-esteem- though you're sure in the back of his mind he's made it a personal challenge to do it anyway. Today, it seems he's taking up that challenge- or he's just really, really fucking pissed off. It’s something of a weakness. On occasion, he’s used it against you, but never like this.

It's a lose-lose. Either you cum from his dick alone, and his ego shoots through the roof because you proved him right- or you don't get to cum at all, and he's satisfied that you've learned your lesson.

He's got you backed into a corner, right where he wants you. The corner, in this instance, being the bedsheets your face is now being squished into, your shaky knees threatening to give out as he continues to pound into you relentlessly, one of his hands still grabbing your hips as his other keeps your head firmly against the pillow.

It’s too much but also not enough, overwhelming you beyond comprehension yet you somehow still want more.

And Jesus fucking Christ, you think you might actually cum.

You try to tell him, to warn him, in case he truly doesn’t want to let you, but you can’t form words, let alone sentences. Instead all that comes out are increasingly high-pitched whines and gasps as your knees buckle and he hits spots so deep inside of you, you think you might pass out.

Finally, you manage his name again. “Logan-” You want to tell him, but instead you just keep going, his name falling from your lips like a mantra, a prayer. “Loganloganloganloganlogan-”

“You gonna cum for me, huh?” His thrusts become harsher, somehow impossibly deeper, reducing your prayers to nothing but babbled moans again. You don’t answer him- you can’t, how could you, with the way he’s hammering his cock into you right now?

“Words, baby.” He says sternly, but you both know you’re too far gone. Instead you just nod, pressing your face into the pillow in an attempt to muffle your cries. He grabs your hair, pulling your head up. “Go on. Wanna hear you cum for me. Cum all over my fuckin’ cock, you know you want to. Let everyone know who you fuckin’ belong to, who owns this pussy.”

You don’t think about the consequences this might have for his ego, or the way you’re not going to be able to walk for days, or the fact that maybe your neighbors might actually hear when you scream his name.

“God, you’re such a whore.” He mocks. “Pathetic.”

You aren’t even ashamed when his dirty words are the thing to push you over the edge.

You just let go.

His name rings in your ears as you scream, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train, hard and fast. You can barely hear his grunts through the cloud of ecstasy you’re floating on, “There we go. Knew you could do it, knew you had it in you- fuck, sweetheart-” He growls, and moments later you feel him twitching inside of you as his own bliss hits, causing your orgasm to just keep fucking going.

Eventually, when both of you are done shaking, Logan pulls out of you. He flips you onto your back, his once mean grip now gentle as he wraps his body around yours as you try to breathe. Soft kisses pepper your forehead, your face, your lips, your neck- anywhere and everywhere he can reach, his beard tickling your skin. His hold is firm, grounding, and he murmurs in your ear. "You did so good, sweetheart. Always so good for me." You whine when his hand brushes against one of the hickeys on your thigh. "Shit, sorry." He pulls back, littering your face with more apologies. "Was it too much?"

You're quick to shake your head. "No." A small smile forms on your face. "But I might not be able to walk anytime soon."

He grins back at you. "Told ya."

You nuzzle your face against his chest, breathing him in. He smells like smoke- he always does, but that smell has become comforting to you. The two of you stay like that for a while before he begins to pull away.

"C'mere. Let's get you cleaned up." He grunts, standing up and taking you with him. He sets you down in the bathtub, turning on the water.

"I'm gonna get some water and food for you. What do you want?" The mention of dinner has your stomach growling- but the thought of him leaving upsets you. Not now, not yet. You reach out a hand, grabbing him by the wrist. He looks down at you, quirking an eyebrow. “You want me to stay?"

You can only nod, and he kneels down beside the bathtub. “Alright. I’ll stay.” Your grip on his wrist loosens, and he brings your hand up to his lips to press a soft kiss against your skin. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

True to his word, he stayed by your side for the rest of the night. Bathing you, drying you, carrying you to the bedroom to get dressed, setting you down outside the bathtub while he showered, then back to the bedroom to put his own clothes on. He ordered dinner, even keeping you with him when he grabbed it from the porch. He didn’t leave you alone, not once, and before you knew it you were drifting off to sleep, still nestled in his arms.

tags: @flowersforbucky @thinkinonsense @gewrgia-black @wlwloverwrites @logansbaby @buckybarneswife125 @sweetverine @dilfverines @wchswift @namikyento @lokirogersgirl @nymphoniah @logansdoe @robo-writing @themareverine @atleastpleasetelephone @r0ttedcherubim @logaenhowlett @th3mrskory @pidgeypidge-pidge

(this is the taglist for my logan howlett one-shots. if anyone would like to be added to or removed from this taglist, please let me know!)

[sanshinesante]

#𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍| 𝐉𝐉𝐊

He didn’t even cross my mind

The playlist series

Paring- one nightstand!Jungkook X one nightstand!reader

Warnings: cheating, unprotected sex, breeding, marking, pussy eating, pussy slapping, cum eating, fingering, overstimulation, somonphila?,

WC: 592

A/N; this one is short:) can y'all believe this man is 27 years old?

Now Playing #Icanteven - the neighborhood

Not edited

☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩

“I could fuck you forever baby girl” jungkooks head is deep in the curve of your neck. His hard cock pressing up against the lewd walls of your cum filled cunt.

Your phone with 6 missed calls from your boyfriend, forgotten on the Jungkook’s coffee table.

Your hand aches from the grip you have on his back. Marking your nails into his pale skin.

Jungkook pulls out of your cunt. Placing paperweight kisses down your neck then on the valley of your breast, your stomach until he lands in front of your pussy.

He looks at the sight smiling. He licks a long stripe collecting the fallen cum off your lips. You moan tired, you've been at it for hours. Your mind is heavy, body satisfied. The only thing you need is a trip to dreamland.

For at least a minute or two. Jungkook licks you again waking you up. You flinch. Moving your head. “Don’t if so bad anymore huh?” he says. Warping his arms around your thighs.

You can't hear him, you just hear ringing in your ears. Are you even alive? You don't know, you feel numb like you are lying on a cloud.

Your eyes shut, and you feel soft vibrations through your body. The darkness behind your eyes is comforting, relaxing. You feel Jungkook’s passion against you.

Jungkook rubs his nose into you, licking you clean. He’s face deep in your pussy. His tongue brushes up every edge of you. He could die between your legs. Crazy how you two met 3 hours ago. He can't believe it.

Jungkook looks up at you. Your body is stiff but you continue making little noises for him. You are nearly asleep. Jungkook slaps your wet cunt, you flinch. “Cum for me one more time baby, please?”

“Huh?” falls out your lips, you're so delirious. Jungkook chuckles, he fingers you. Fucking his cum into you. He licks you sucking and fingering your simulated clit.

“ you didn't answer my questions baby?” you slumped your head to the other side.

“What…did…you…say?” Jungkook repays his question. “You don’t feel bad for cheating on your man anymore?” You shake your head. Your eyes shut completely.

“ you need to speak, I’m head deep in this cunt of yours baby” You open your eyes.

You look down seeing Jungkook, your eyes are tired and heavy. Is he still going? Four nuts inside you weren’t enough for him. He just had to eat you out too? You think.

You drop your head back on the couch. How did you even get on the couch? You were in his bed? Jungkook takes you out of your train of thought. With his fingers moving faster. He adds another, licking you faster. Your body tensing.

“Fuck” you can’t move, you too tired. “No I don’t feel bad, he didn’t even pass my mind” You touch Jungkook’s head. Softly scratching his head.

Your cunt is pulsing faster by the second. Your body is on fire. As if you ran for 7 miles without stopping. Jungkook’s fingers move faster, his tongue slips into your hole. You flinch, the muscle brushing against you. You moan.

“Jungkook, I’m going to” You can barely speak. You cum on his face. Your body shaking. Heart racing you can’t take it anymore. You crying from exhaustion.

Jungkook licks your fluids off his lips and upper lip. He stands up, carrying you to bed. “I’m so glad baby, he I can't even-” You don’t get to hear the last of his sentence. You knocked out.

[janesgms]

< How you act when you're in love >

5H/7H house ruler in scorpio/8H house/8°/20° degrees: can, at its worst, make someone very obsessive, possessive, explosive, jealous and even an stalker when they're in love with someone ☠️ help. at its best, can make someone very passionate, intense, powerful, protective and sensual when in love, the type to go to the moon and back just for their lover. it's giving very ride or die vibes. The same definition can apply to venus aspecting pluto. Songs:

Him and I - G-eazy & Halsey

Woo - Rihanna

The whole Reputation album - Taylor Swift

The Weeknd songs

Paparazzi - Lady Gaga

Collide - Justine Skye

Middle of The Night - Elley Duhé

Babydoll - Ari Abdul

Animals - Maroon 5

Crazy in Love - Beyoncé

The whole Ultraviolence album - Lana Del Rey

Unforgettable - French Montana

Heaven - Julia Michaels

The whole Badlands album - Halsey

Killbill - SZA

L.E.S - Donald Glover

5H/7H house ruler in cancer/4H house/4°/16°/28° degrees:: can, at its worst, make someone extremely manipulative, moody, vengeful and irrational when in love with someone. at its best, can make someone very caring, loving, protective, nostalgic and nurturing when in love, they really like to spoil their partner emotionally. The same definition can apply to venus aspecting moon. Songs:

The Heart Wants What It Wants - Selena Gomez

Highschool Sweethearts - Melanie Martinez

Reminder - The Weeknd

Paparazzi - Lady Gaga

Part Of Me - Katy Perry

Te Amo - Rihanna

Alejandro - Lady Gaga

Sweather Weather - Arctic Monkeys

I wanna Be Yours - Arctic Monkeys

Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Rey

deja vu - Olivia Rodrigo

Outside - Calvin Harris

Earned It - The Weeknd

The whole Born To Die album - Lana Del Rey (including the paradise songs 😘)

Ocean Eyes - Billie Eilish

5H/7H house ruler in pisces/12H house/12°/24° degrees: can, at its worst, make someone delusional, blind, influencial, escapist, and moody when in love. at its best, can make someone sensitive, empathetic, dreamy, empathetic, creative, profound, feeling unexplainable feelings, and VERY romantic when in love, they're probably the types to write poetry and imagine a fairytale with their loved one. The same definition can apply to venus aspecting neptune. Songs:

Love you like a love song - Selena Gomez

Love Story - Taylor Swift

Bad Romance - Lady Gaga (a song deditaced for their terrible taste in men, specially, but in women too 💞)

Training Wheels - Melanie Martinez

I'm yours - Isabel LaRosa

Renegade - Aaryah Shaah

The bridge of What a Life - Jhene Aiko

Why'd You Only Call Me Whem You're High - Arctic Monkeys

#icanteven - The NBHD

Happiness Is A Butterfly - Lana Del Rey

I Love You - 2ne1

Loonatic - LOONA

America - XYLØ

High Enough - K.Flay

The whole soundtrack of Euphoria - Labyrnth

Psyechedelic Addict - Anuka

As someone with these 3 placements (scorpio/pisces/4th/8th houses), I really liked doing this post since it's something very personal to me! 💕 Also, one thing I notice is that all these placements usually listen to a lot of music, more than the usual, when in love.

Mini tutorial in case you don't know how to see your rulers. Look at the signs in your 5th and 7th houses, then look at where the planets who rule these signs are in your natal. For ex: I have a 5th house in sagittarius, so I need to look at my jupiter, sagittarius ruler, who is in scorpio in the 4th house. For this, I indicate for you to look at the modern rulership, but in case you don't identify with the characteristics, look at the traditional ruler.

[especially-obsessed]

#icanteven

pt. 1

#icanteven - The Neighbourhood

"I can't even, I can't even believe what you did to me You can't even, you can't even say I'm overreacting I can't even, can't even hear your side Shame on me, you fooled me twice"

Summary: series; Sam cheats on you.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader, Dean Winchester x reader

Warnings: descriptions of depression, guilt, anger, infidelity, fluff

Word count: 1.1k

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

The Night

The morgue. Your favorite place! Not. Dean had convinced you to go to the morgue with him (after hours) because of a hunch he had. Something wasn’t sitting right about the bodies that had turned up. Sam stayed back at the motel to do some research. And you thought nothing of it.

Dean pulled into the motel parking lot, rambling on about some Led Zepplin album you asked about. The Impala came to a halt at the curb, right outside your bedrooms. The weight of the days work suddenly wore down on your body, and you could physically feel your shoulders slouch. And then you heard it. The long and low bellow, deep from the pit of your stomach. You looked over at Dean, food in hand, and burst into laughter. 

“Did that sound really just come from your stomach?” Dean joked, opening the driver side door. You balanced the food in one hand and you used the other to open your door. Dean walked around his car and held open the car door for you. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it. I just want to eat real food,” you said, handing the drink carrier off to Dean. 

“Yeah, who orders health food from a place like that?” Dean said, genuine disgust painted on his face. “Imagine the chemicals they put on that stuff!” 

“Like the saturated fats in the rest of their food is so much better,” you countered. Dean was ready for a full argument about this, even though you agreed with him. Before he could get any more worked up, you turned to him. “You eating with us?” you asked him, waiting outside of your motel door. You were eager to see Sam, even though you’d only been gone for three hours. Dean nodded and waited for you to open your door. You quickly fumbled with your key, clutching the bags of food tightly. You couldn’t bear another car ride with Dean after a food mishap. 

The lock on your door beeped, and you pushed open the motel room door. Instantly, you noticed something was off. Sam was in bed. He wasn’t clothed, and you could clearly see where the thin motel sheet met his hip bone. 

And he wasn’t alone. 

You could see blonde hair sprawled out on the pillows. The outline of her feet entangled with Sam’s outlined by the sheets. Sam was hovering over her body, his toned biceps on either side of her head. He slowly knelt down, bringing his face to hers. They were completely ignorant of the company they now had. They were still going…

Everything around you faded. 

Except for them.

You stood in the doorway, shell-shocked. Stuck in place. The soles of your shoes super glued to the floor. Dean pulled you from the doorway, pulling your line of vision away from the bed you had just slept in last night. He quickly opened the door to his room next to yours and let you in. He closed it gently behind him as he left again. But you were unaware of what was happening. You drifted into the room, letting your feet carry you aimlessly. You ended up at the edge of one of the beds in the room. You couldn’t feel anything anymore. A shadow of who you were moments ago. You felt numb. There was commotion next door. Someone was shouting. Someone else responded. The door slammed, and then the lock clicked and Dean walked back through the door, your duffle bag in hand. You couldn’t even lift your head to look at him, staring blankly at the pale-colored wall in front of you.

“You’re gonna stay the night in here with me sweetheart. We’ll deal with this in the morning,” he spoke softly. You were completely still, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. Your chest barely moved as you breathed shallow breaths. 

Dean was angry, but knew now wasn’t the time to show it. His chest ached with the pain he knew you were feeling. He gently guided you up and to the head of the bed. He knelt and helped you take your boots off, then your socks. He gently pushed on your shoulder, helping you lay back. You rolled away from him, not wanting to see his face. His pity. He pulled the bed covers to your shoulders, and rubbed your back softly, before settling in for the night himself. 

You could hear Sam talking through the paper-thin walls, worry seeping out of every word. You could tell by his rushed tone. He was talking to whoever she was. And you didn’t even want to know. All you wanted to do was leave. You couldn’t face Dean in the morning, feeling his pitying glance every time you made a move. And you couldn’t face Sam. He would just make the situation worse. 

 Soon the voices faded and you were left alone with your thoughts. Warm tears trickled over the bridge of your nose and down the side of your cheek. 

You needed to get out. You needed to leave.

Hours later, once you heard Dean’s heavy breaths from the bed next to yours, you knew it was time. You sat up slowly, glancing over to make sure that he was asleep. He was belly down, head tilted to the side with one arm resting under his pillow. Surely, he had a pistol of some sort tucked under his head, hand on the trigger. Any sudden sounds triggering his fight or flight reflections, and he would have that gun pulled on you. 

You swung your feet over the edge of the bed and placed them on the carpeted floor. As quietly as possible, you put on your socks and your boots, feeling like you were banging on pots and pans with every lace you looped. It took only a few seconds for you to compose yourself and grab your duffle bag. Your heart ached. This didn’t feel right. Not like this. But you needed to be as far away from the Winchesters as possible. 

You quickly scribbled Dean a note on the stained notepad and placed it carefully on the table by the window. You slipped out the door without a word or so much as a glance back at the motel. 

And you disappeared into the night.

Series Masterlist

A/N: <3

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