#it took a driver from the opposite side stopping their car in the middle of the road and SLOWLY coaxing the gull across for it to leave

[magistralucis]

@absolut--kurant!

Adorable little gull loaf in the town centre today

[robthegoodfellow]

May I Find You One December RENAMED Here I Go Again

1: Don't Know Where I'm Going, Sure Know Where I've Been

for @fizzigigsimmer

(caligator, referenced past harringrove, age difference, referenced character death, references to neofascism/evangelicalism)

.

Billy’d been warned against stopping in Stark County, but when you had to go, you had to go—and anyway, he was running low on gas. And snacks. 

And, since he wasn’t a spring chicken anymore, it’d be wise to get out, work the rust from his joints a bit. 

Glancing around as he filled the tank, the town looked normal enough; your average main drag in Middle of Nowhere, North Dakota. Couple sleepy shops, general store, dinky diner—one of those blue lives matter flags hanging limp by the door, vivid polyester garish against all the beige. 

Basic shit. 

No obvious signs of a place under the iron thumb of a white nationalist evangelical militia, and he was just about to roll the dice on that diner, maybe snag a coffee and a slice of pie, when a police cruiser ambled into view, pulled into the fueling station opposite.

Just his fucking luck.

Billy studied the pump, face schooled a pleasant bland. Marveled at how, even after all these years, his days of tussling with fascist pigs long behind him, the same wolves were stirring in his head. One baring its teeth on a low growl, ready and willing to tear the fucker to shreds, the other poised, still as stone, itching to turn tail and run at the first sign of trouble.

At fifty years old—fifty plus, but who was counting—he preferred neither option. The meter clicked off, and he watched his hands replace the nozzle, screw on the gas cap.

Even his hands were fucking old. Thicker—blocky knuckles. Veins starting to bulge. Grandpa hands. 

Sense memory flashed, suppressed so quick and smooth it left barely a ripple. Wouldn’t do to indulge in fond longing for those gay glory days, for the hands he still missed like phantom limbs, some nights, this aching absence. Not within spitting distance of a patrol car. 

Because why test the thought police, right? He could reminisce on youthful love lost when he was back on the highway, heading west.

Good boy, he heard, like Billy had a tin can cupped to his ear, the string trailing off into the fog of time. 

So strange what stayed sharp, he mused, rounding the hood, gripping his keys. Behind him, the cruiser door swung open with a creak. Like—despite the photos, it was hard to really conjure the face, hold it steady in his mind. A face through a window in the rain, and more so as the years slid by. But that voice still whispered clear as day—sometimes a Jiminy Cricket, keeping Billy out of trouble, sometimes a little prankster demon, pure trickster. 

And the hands. The feel of those hands had never left him, touch embedded in the skin.

He sniffed, ducking his chin, scolding himself. So much for smothering his inner queer.

The door was open, sanctuary of the driver’s seat calling his name, when something drew his attention across the way—some movement, maybe, or shift in the air. Pulling his gaze, against his better judgment, to meet the bored stare of the emerging cop.

His chest—seized, breath caught in tight lungs by a tighter throat. Distantly wondered if this was what a heart attack felt like—crushed in a cold fist.

Because the eyes staring back at him were Steve’s. The furrowed brow above lips pinched in a frown. The lines of his jaw, his nose. Like the rain had stopped and he could see him clear through the pane. Then the lips twisted, a sudden sneer, straight out of senior year.

“Got a problem, pal?” 

Billy blinked rapid, took in the flak jacket and badge announcing him as the Sheriff’s stooge, the douchey camo hoodie layered underneath, dark hair slicked back, sides shaved like he’d stepped off the cover of Nazi Vogue.

What the fuck.

“Asked you a question, old man.”

Billy coughed, half a laugh, half choke, and shook his head. Same voice—his voice. Steve’s. Only the tone was all wrong—mean and self-important—more like… like Billy, once upon a time.

Like if his old bratty attitude and Steve’s voice had a baby. That’s what he was hearing right now. Like—

Wrenching his brain back on track, Billy rebooted. Cut him off before the brat could launch another volley.

“Sorry, officer,” he said, and couldn’t help it—the amusement thrumming beneath the words, or more accurately, the unhinged hysteria. “Must be going senile.”

The eyes narrowed—assuming that if he wasn’t in on the joke, he must be the butt of it.

“In fact,” Billy went on, blindly following some instinct, he knew not where. “Think I might be having some heart trouble.”

The cop did not spring to the aid of a needy citizen, but eyed him skeptically. “You smell burnt toast?”

“That’s for a stroke,” Billy corrected, and he’d gone and done it again—only this time a fondness threading the wry mockery. “Heart attack is pain in your arm and whatnot.”

The brat didn’t shoot him dead for perceived disrespect, which was something. Really he just seemed—confused. Baffled. And boy, Billy was right there with him.

This wasn’t Steve, he reminded himself. Wasn’t him. Just a random dead ringer in Middle of Nowhere, North Dakota, a likely foot soldier in the brutal local militia.

And Billy should just leave him to it, obviously. Because this wasn’t Steve.

So—bid the doppelganger adieu, get the hell out of dodge. Billy cleared his throat.

“Don’t suppose protect and serve extends to helping some geezer find a place to eat while he rests awhile?”

Now the perplexed indignation was out in force, head tilted so far to the side it was liable to roll off his neck.

Hand to God, Billy thought he’d kicked the death wish long ago—his Y2K resolution—and yet here he was. Still talking, coaxing the neofascist to come closer, chucking all caution to the wind for a pair of pretty, over-familiar eyes.

“C’mon,” he said, and made the smirk self-deprecating. “I make it across the street without keeling over, I’ll buy ya a coffee.”

The brat straightened, something like tolerant intrigue settled in the quirk of his brow. “All right, then, old timer.” As they stepped off the sidewalk: “Don’t expect me to hold your elbow or nothing.”

“Oh, nah,” Billy replied, waving him off. “Dignity won’t allow it.” And then—he winked. Winked at the boogaloo boy. He’d lost his mind. Farewell, sanity.  “Name’s Billy.”

No response from the boy in blue until they reached the diner steps. “I’m Gator,” he said, hauling the door open, gruffness at odds with the tinkling bell.

To his credit, Billy didn’t break down into gibbering laughter.

Gator. This asshat wearing Steve’s face, this Duck Dynasty heir apparent—was named Gator.

Way off in Indiana, Steve must’ve been rolling in his grave.

Next

[oneshotnewbie]

Annalise Keating and Female reader "I Didnt know where to go, so I came here." Annalise's gf, shows up in the middle of a case after facing a tragedy. Please make it as fluffy as a blow dried sheep

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the topic of a car crash and blood/bleeding wounds. The plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

Tires squealed, people screamed and shortly afterwards, you could hear cars colliding. Your Audi skidded over the side of the road, hit another car and both were eventually stopped by a tree. The car on the opposite side of the road could not brake in time and grazed the rear or yours, shortly afterwards fire broke out.

Then everything was quiet, dead quiet for a few minutes.

Only the constant ringing in your ears and the pounding of your heart, which tried to chase twice the amount of blood through your body, remained in your auditory canal and did not leave you alone.

Less than fifty meter away from your car was a white Mercedes, the front of which was completely dented and wrecked. The man sitting in the drivers seat was in shock. In a flash, he jumped out of the car and ran towards you, but he got dizzy and fell to the ground, losing consciousness while falling.

A young man, barely reaching adulthood, was behind the wheel of the Hyundai in front of you, which was pinned against the tree by your car. Slowly, he regained consciousness and tried to understand the situation he was in. Panic shot through his body and he tried to free himself through the passenger side, but all efforts were unsuccessfully. He did not get out of his seat, realizing he was trapped.

And then there was you, your head on the steering wheel, wrapped in the airbag that erupted right after the first impact. Due to the force of it, you flew forward quite a bit, so that you were violently pressed into the seat belt. This caused you to gasp painfully for air in a daze. Your blood spread on the white sheet, the laceration on your head bleeding profusely.

"Ma´am, are you all right?" the boy in front of you asked, trying to get to his cell phone. He carefully tried to stretch forward, but the pain in his chest prevented him from doing so. No matter what he tried to do, he could not reach his phone. "Please answer me"

As you agonizingly tried to pull yourself out of the junk that used to be a car, slamming open the door with a thud and pushing yourself out of the seat to painfully fall onto the wet street, you heard a car pull up behind you. "I am fine, help is on the way"

---

When the rescue team arrived, two paramedics helped you into an ambulance and took your vital signs while an police officer questioned you about what happened. As detailed as you could in this situation, you described the accident and explained that the driver of the Mercedes was to blame for it and asked about the other people who had been hit much worse.

After half an hour, during which the doctors tried in vain to persuade you to take you to the hospital for a check-up to be on the safe side, you left the place with a few bandages and plasters on your hands and face, limping and with bloody clothes.

You only had one goal in mind; Annalise.

You walked the streets of the settlement only slowly, due to to the effect of the adrenaline you did not noticed the pain, which went far beyond the usual hematoma caused by seat belts in such accidents, until now.

Warm blood dripped down your forearm and fingers and you heard a whimper escape your mouth. Your breath quickened, tears stinging in your eyes as you pressed your palm to the open wound on your upper arm. The paramedics had not checked you out further, had not looked under your leather jacket, which, despite the profusely bleeding wound, had not gotten a single scratch.

You had almost arrived, had almost reached your destination when a sharp pain in your left side made you groan briefly and you fell down onto the steps of Annalise´s office. Even a brief twitch in your muscles suddenly sent a chilling throb from your hips up your spine to your head.

-Control yourself, Y/n. Put the pain aside and stand up!- you mumbled to yourself, but your body did not respond to your commands. Instead, your skull pressed against the pillar of the terrace and you closed your eyes for a moment.

The loud bang of your body weight on the old wooden floorboards had caused a stir; the door jumped open with violence. Your head stretched up as far it could, your eyes scanning the human standing in the open door. His expression was a mixture of shock and fear, concern and agitation.

"Y/n, what the hell happened? You look like someone straight out of a horror movie!" Frank shouted a little louder than expected, making you wince and cry out in agony. He pushed forward from his stand and ran down the stairs to perch on the first of these to survey you. "Annalise, you need to come quickly!"

He examined every limb of your body, roughly skimming the outward appearance of the uninjured areas and keeping his eyes glued to the blood pooling on your palm while he nervously listened to the bleating from his boss, who was obviously deeply involved in a case, talking to her client. "Frank, I don´t have- my Y/n.."

---

You felt your girlfriend´s strong arms nestle under your body, pulling you up and letting your head sink into your carrier´s shoulder as you tried to hold back the tears of pain and shock. But all you could manage was a pitiful whimper. "Shh, it´s okay. It will get better soon, honey."

Annalise soothing voice calmed your insides and you forgot the pain for a short while. "Y/n, what happened?" your girlfriend asked worried as she entered her office with you. You looked more than worn out, judging by your pale complexion you had been roaming the streets like that for a long time.

You did not answer and she dragged you over to one of her couches where she carefully sat down with you and you took a seat on her lap. Your tired upper body was still pressed tightly against her, the pain overcoming you with an ice-cold shiver down your spine.

"Honey?" the lawyer asked again, leaning over and looking at you worried with her enchanted eyes. You grimaced in pain as you braced your arm against her thigh to position yourself slightly differently and comfortable. "I.." you started, searching for the right words in the fog that surrounded your thoughts. "had a car accident. Someone hit me, crashed into another car and ended up curled up against a tree."

Annalise´s eyes widened and she had to swallow hard. With her mouth wide open, for the first time ever, she had no words to vouch for. "Why the hell are not you in the hospital right now? You need to get checked out!"

"I did not know where to go, so I came here. No need for hospitals, only you."

Tentatively but quickly, she began to strip of the blazer and then your top, exposing the bleeding skin under the blue colored fabric of your sleeve. You sucked in the air sharply while an unintentional whistle escaped your lips as the filthy and dried blood spattered top brushed the left part of your shoulder.

The brown-haired woman instantly saw why.

A cut ran from the outer edge of your left shoulder down to about midway on your upper arm. She immediately motioned for you to let yourself fall into her arms and to close your eyes; she knew how much you hated blood and could not stand seeing it. "Frank, I need clean and fresh clothes- a shirt that has wide, short sleeves. A bowl of warm water, a cloth and bandages. Now."

The man, who stood nervously in front of you and observed the situation, disappeared from the room with a nod and returned shortly afterwards with the medically necessary items, which he placed on the small table beside his boss before letting you both alone.

She took the washcloth in her hand, soaked it in the bowl of water and began cleaning the wound. "This is going to hurt, I am sorry baby."

You tried not to let it show, but your arm spasmed several times and your fingers clawed at her thigh as the burning in your upper arm intensified. After each swab, she looked up at you and concern crept onto her tired face.

"Ahh!" you gasped in tears and clenched your teeth. Annalise was working as neatly as she could, not wanting to continue to watch your suffering. When she was done with that, she bandages your wound and tended to the small cuts on your face, which would heal just as well.

She quickly threw the used things on the floor and picked you up to lay you flat on the couch, which she lined with some pillows from the other sofa and an comfortable blanket. The brunette carefully lifted your wounded arm over the blanket and placed it high on another pillow before dabbing your forehead, which was clearly covered with sweat, with the washcloth.

Gently pressing the damp cloth against your cheek, wiping away some tears that were running down your neck, she watched you. "You should get some rest, my love." she said, tossing the damp cloth back into the bowl and stroking your wounded arm soothingly.

Instead of the expected pain, you thought would be rushing through your system, a sense of security flowed through you.

Your hand reached up to her, placing itself on her neck, gently pulling her towards you. Annalise closed her eyes as she felt your lips on hers, kissing her passionately, unconsciously leaning in a bit. Her forehead rested against yours and you let your eyes fall close.

"Will you lie down with me? I could use a good cuddle session. For the healing process if you understand" you whispered to her and she grinned into another kiss before pushing herself away from your face. The brunette gently ran her fingers over your hair and helped you push yourself a little to the side.

Annalise took off her high heels and carefully crawled under the covers. Her arms gently wrapped around your midsection, careful not to bump into your wound. "For the healing process, huh?"

You nodded and snuggled closer to her. Annalise kissed the bare skin of your collarbone, earning a tired moan while running her fingers in circles over your chest as she watched you enjoying the closeness and slowly drifting into a deep, well-deserved sleep.

[madameducyberversailles]

Bryson Tiller Said (141 Crackfic)

Inspired by some dumbass shit I saw on Instagram and have been laughing at since. Could make more songfics if y’all want, I got ideas, but this one funny thing struck me the most. Enjoy the hilarity! (Seriously I looked up Texan radio stations for rap, different cars and British driving, I spent time researching this, please tell me how you feel about it)

Warnings: Swearing cause it’s military obvs, canon divergence, shenanigans, touching without knowledge (non-malicious), kind of suggestive but for comedy, short clothing is a warning? Bad/Incorrect military term use and imagery, but idgaf 

Bryson Tiller Said: 141 x GN! Reader (Crackfic)

Song: Don’t -Bryson Tiller 

No one knew whether or not it could be considered ‘down time’ in any way since you all were technically in hiding and appearing as civilian as possible to meet up with other agents and military personnel like yourselves, but it was enjoyable for the most part enough that the edge of the ongoing mission wasn’t as hard to deal with. 

Communications had been cut off except for radio and very, very, secure messaging through military technology. You guys had to make it to the safehouse and gather with other operatives who were trying to deal with a threat- this time, from the inside. Price was already there, having been helping Laswell from the air with Nikolai when it all went downhill, and he’d ordered you all frantically to get to ‘Rockseller’s Point’, a fake place he’d made up, but it was a code word you all knew: the mission and team were compromised, meaning you all had to get to the nearest safehouse. 

Thankfully, Price was thorough in his briefing before missions, and let you all know the codeword for your safehouses and their locations, establishing a system of communication that made it possible for your little group to survive should any higher up or other group decide they wanted to try a hand at eliminating you. 

So, that’s how you all were here: travelling for three out of your eleven day long trip towards the safehouse. You all took turns driving (though Soap was permanently banned from sitting in the front ever since he nearly lost control behind the wheel because he got tipsy before his driving shift), and now Gaz pulled the Ford F-350 into a stop near a local gas station in the middle of fucking nowhere in Texas, trying to find the safehouse closest to the Mexican border as you got closer to meeting with Los Vaqueros for another mission in both Mexico and the States. 

All of the Brits had troubles with the road. You had to drive the first day for almost 4 full shifts of 6 hours of driving, as the roads were on the opposite side, and the driver’s seat was also on the different side in America, meaning that they had to adapt and it would only be possible to do so after someone else drove for a while in order to get them able to drive in this new situation. After almost 50 hours of driving over two days, the Brits finally got used to the traffic enough that they were comfortable driving, and now, into the third day, Gaz and Ghost had driven a few hours. 

Now, you were where you belonged, in your Passenger Princess seat, lovingly dubbed to you by popular culture which was technically your rightfully deserved throne at this point from carrying the entire 141′s asses to safety on the road and risking numb legs from driving. You had been reading a book as your phone charged, since everyone had to have at least one working phone just in case and you all took turns carefully charging one another’s phones to keep at least one personal device alive. You’d stopped for gas, and there was a convenience store as well that likely had overpriced sustenance, but you all would be able to make do with the 3K cash you guys kept on hand for missions just like this, located in a safe pocket known only to you and to be only used in emergencies. If had kept you guys watered and fed and still able to cover the needs for gas and any repairs you may need, thanks to you all (though mostly Ghost) keeping Soap from splurging on the drinks. Your gear in the back of the locked tailgate of the pickup truck you drove, and your friends with you meant you practically had everything you needed. Ghost was an especial help through all this due to his survival missions in previous years, and he was a godsend of help, since the other two were clowns, in every affectionate and damnable context of the word. With every stop, you all used the bathrooms (though the boys were unfortunately blessed with no social stigma or fear of their urinary systems when the bathrooms were bad enough that pig stys were cleaner) and gotten some food to keep your energy along with the MRE’s, even if the new food tasted blander than Texas sand, as Soap and you complained. 

Days ago, the heat had gotten to you enough that you’d opted to wear civilian clothing, consisting of shorts and a shirt, and due to the heat you all kept having to drink water which made it worse, but at least you were trained for hostile temperatures and knew how to survive this, even with all the complaints you’d made that’d send God himself into another fit of flooding rage. You sat in the passenger seat, reading your book as Gaz, Ghost and Soap made their rounds at the gas station to gather necessities and switch driving shifts. You were shielded from the intensity of the mid-morning sun by the tinted windows, kept cool by the ac on blast as the car was stagnant as the boys conversed and argued about food to buy and driving regulations. You brought out a bag of chips that a vendor yesterday had given to you after he’d pitifully flirted with you and earned the ire of Ghost, Soap, and Gaz, and threw in free food in apology for ‘messing with the military’, which was somewhat of a cultural taboo in America, especially in a place like Texas. You began to munch on the chips, enjoying the flavour coating your tongue as you distractedly repositioned the bag between your thighs while reading, the book getting interesting as the archaeologist was about to come face to face with the harrowing truth of what they’d discovered. You didn’t even hear Ghost open the door on your left, nor did you feel the truck shift as he settled his weight into the driver’s seat, but you did comically jump when he shut the door with a slam! that knocked you out of your vicarious fantasy for a moment. 

Ghosts’ eyes were full of puzzlement for a moment before his eyelids narrowed in a tell-tale sign of mild amusement, clearly finding your jumpiness funny. A dusting of red flushed across your cheeks as he teased: “Lost yourself in that book enough to let someone waltz into the truck and drive off into the horizon, hm?” making light of the trope of romance books usually being read on long trips though yours was not a romance book currently. 

You turned away, smiling slightly in embarrassment as you retorted, “Well I didn’t see you waltz in, and if anyone’s driving it’ll have to be me since you guys don’t know how to drive on these roads”. 

Ghost huffed, muttering a muffled ‘touché’ under his breath as he started the car up. “Buckle in, we’re leaving!” he called out to Gaz and Soap, his accented voice barking orders bringing them back to the present as you too scrambled to put on the seatbelt. Within just a few moments, you were on the road again with a full tank of gas and the wind on your skin. 

You ate sparingly, wanting to save the chips to make them last. You looked up at the road and noticed there was a sign on the highway for Dallas, meaning you guys were getting closer to the destination point calculated for a productive journey to the safehouse. Knowing that you were ahead of schedule and headed into the inner cities, your worries for preserving your chips were slightly alleviated. You were closing into the climax of the book, and since you had more than you’d expected left, you decided to offer some to the others since they were likely bored and wanting a snack. 

You reached towards the centre console to the cool water bottles stored in there, and took a swig, washing down most of the chips. You leaned your head on your shoulder and angled it to call out to Soap and Gaz behind you: “Hey, I’ve got chips, you guys can have some if you want, okay?” 

Soap’s enthusiastic ‘yes!’ resounded through the car as he reached towards you, his hand out asking for some nourishment. You reach into the bag and place a few chips in his hand, to which his eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “These aren’t chips, they’re crisps,” he says in a hushed voice. 

You roll your eyes, remembering that the Brits of course had a different word for things. “Yeah, we just call them chips in Turtle Island AKA North America, just eat it Soap” you told him, knowing he’d go on a tangent if you let him feel like he had to defend his vernacular for some reason. Soap playfully huffed, and you both went back to doing your own thing. You barely opened the book when you heard Gaz ask for some ‘crisps’ too, and you handed some over, sticking your tongue out at Soap when he groaned at his unsuccessful attempt to grab Gaz’s chips for himself, and let them know they could help themselves to the chips, or crisps as Soap was insistent on, from the bag in your lap. 

You turned back to look at your book again when your eyes flickered to Ghost, the masked Lieutenant sitting proud and tall with steel posture to drive and fight the instinct to drive in the opposite lane. He was doing his best, driving on the empty scenic roads of Texas on the way to Dallas, and he must have skipped out on something in order to conserve resources, because the Lieutenant, as you’d come to know, was not as spectrally malevolent as the name sounds, as his concern for others lingers in his actions, and you wanted to make sure he was included in snack breaks. 

“Ghost, if you’d like, feel free to grab some chips whenever, okay?” you offer, your voice in a hushed whisper to speak privately to him with respect. 

He nods minutely, and it lets you know not only that he heard you but also that he acknowledged what you said. He kept driving. You turned back to your book. 

A few minutes later, a skeletal gloved hand reached out towards the chips, and you shifted the mouth of the bag towards him so he could eat. 

Ghost grabbed a few chips and you could see his hand move to the bag from your periphery before you turned back to the book, smiling to yourself that Ghost was actually eating something before your attention was fully tuned in to the book you were reading. 

The road was smooth, gravel and asphalt combined with the tires of the pickup being the best kind of white noise for reading while in Passenger Princess Mode. Every so often the bag of chips would rustle to alert you someone was eating, and even Ghost’s hand didn’t faze you as he grabbed more chips, apparently enjoying the flavour. He fed himself the chips before trying to fiddle around with the radio, wondering if there was any traffic updates on the local radios, with soft static cutting in and out, adding to the languid atmosphere. 

You were so engrossed in your novel that you didn’t see the envious look in Soap’s eyes as he looked at the chips, and you didn’t feel the bag being kidnapped from the security of your lap as Soap took the chips for himself and Gaz, the two soldiers crunching on the seasoned and fried potato slices to their heart’s content. 

You did, however, feel when something brushed along your skin, eager fingers searching for purchase only to find a grip on the flesh of your thigh just before the hem of your shorts, insistent fingers grabbing onto the skin before it realized what it was touching. 

You froze. So did the mystery hand. 

Your eyes traced the gloved hand resting between your thighs, just as confused and embarrassed as you are. You tilted your head up back to Ghost. 

The man was frozen in his seat, wide eyes flickering between his hand on your thigh, you and the road, the car barely moving. You could feel his hand tremble as he refused to meet your eyes. 

The poor man was utterly mortified. 

Silence reigned in the car, louder than any explosion you could recall as even Soap and Gaz sat stock still, wondering why the fuck Ghost’s hand was on your thigh. 

No one dared to move. No one dared to breathe. 

The radio crackled to life finally, getting just enough of a frequency to announce no traffic but instead burst into song- 

“-Skrr, get in the ride, 

Left hand is steering, the other is gripping your thigh-”

-Which inevitably caused you to snicker, and decide that it was time to be the best damn comedian you could be. 

You put on the most pretentious look of surprise as you blatantly looked between Ghost’s hand and his eyes that looked everywhere but at you, and after a split second exaggerated gasp, you put your hand to your heart, clutching imaginary pearls. 

“We’re not even on a first name basis, Lieutenant! I see we’re getting tactically touchy?” you said, rolling the last syllable as you batted your lashes in a way that would make satirical comedians wheeze. You even threw in a wink. 

Ghost only blinked, confused. 

Then you slapped your hand atop his own, bit your lip in the most obnoxious way, and leaned in as though you were going to kiss him. 

The most feared Lieutenant Ghost reeled back at terminal velocity away from your pretend kiss and shrieked. 

The car swerved, and Ghost cursed, his voice back to its normal low pitch as all passengers held onto their door handles as Ghost maneuvered the car back into the lane, remembering after a second that he should be driving in the right lane instead. 

Soap and Gaz were getting squished by the displaced items from Ghost’s mistaken momentum but it did nothing to quell their laughter, as Soap fell onto Gaz’s lap as he wheezed from laughing so hard. Gaz was failing to hold himself upright as he slapped Soap’s back, laughing so hard his dimples showed and his stomach hurt. 

You? You could barely make out Ghost’s silhouette when your eyes glassed over with tears, your entire body shaking with your hyena-like laughter as you could barely squeak at times, laughing so hard you nearly deprived yourself of oxygen. 

Ghost’s shouts of ‘shut up you fucking idiots’ in between embarrassed mutterings and yelled threats did nothing to quell the laughter in the car, in fact it seemed to escalate it further, your laughter getting harder and Ghost’s shoulders hunching closer in embarrassment as he swore under his breath, his cheeks flushed a deep red with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel under his gloved hands. Gaz and Soap kept laughing, the chips long forgotten as they kept laughing about the entire situation, with Soap and Gaz losing air as their faces flushed from mirth. The men began to tire from their oxygen depravation from laughing so hard, and the laughter quieted down to whispered jokes and shushed chuckles. 

Hours later, your book was finally finished, the ending being so heartbreaking yet cathartic at the same time that you closed the book and put it away, ready to start reading a different one later. You breathed a sigh as you leaned back in your seat, propping your one arm outside the window as wind from the sunroof flowed in to cool you down. Gaz and Soap had been so tuckered out that they fell asleep in the warmth of the sun and the steady pace of the car. You turned your body and leaned over the console compartment to grab the bag of chips back, a bit dismayed to find it nearing emptiness. 

You mentally shrugged and began to eat some more of them. You turned to see Ghost, the Lieutenant’s posture relaxed if not for the tenseness of his shoulders, clearly from being made fun of. The Lieutenant had been with the 141 since its inception and was probably used to them, so he likely didn’t give a shit about the antics the boys pulled about making fun of him. So why was he tense? It occurred to you that maybe...he was embarrassed about the fact he touched you without permission. 

You and the Lieutenant respected one another enough that you were well-acquainted with his mannerisms, his social cues, and his likes and dislikes enough that both on and off the field you could work together in relative ease. But his reaction to this situation now had you worried. Had any of you crossed an unspoken boundary? 

Your heart started to pound harder in your chest as you worried about whether or not something bad had occurred, and if you were at fault. Ghost was not just a man who built himself up to war but also knew how to hold a grudge, and no one ever, in their right mind, wanted to be on the receiving end. Especially if they considered him a friend. 

Gathering your courage, you regarded him for a moment then cleared your throat before you could chicken out. “Lieutenant?” you peeped up, your voice smaller than you’d intended. 

Ghost briefly turned to look at you, his focus diverting from the completely empty road to you after one odd car passed by. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice in a more curious and benign tone than you expected it to be. 

You looked down for a moment and took in a breath, causing Ghost’s eyes to flicker on you once more in a look that could be classified as nervous. 

“I’m...uh, I’m sorry, sir, if we’d gone too far. Are you okay?” you asked, concern etched on your face. 

Ghost grunted, nodding before turning back to the window. Silence reigned between you, causing your stomach to sink further. You pressed your lips together, eyes shifting before you heard him sigh after a beat. 

“I touched you without permission; I should have apologized earlier. ‘M sorry if it made you uncomfortable”, he says, and the tinge in his voice tells you enough. 

He’s not upset at you. He’s concerned if he made you uncomfortable. 

The Lieutenant is not just feared, but also respected. Because he gives that respect to others too. 

You smile, shaking your head softly. “I’m okay, sir. It was no big deal. I know it wasn’t intentional”, you said, feeling better now that the air was cleared. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Lt”. 

You can see the tension leave him, his shoulders no longer as tense, now that there was no reason for there to be any awkward tension. 

You smiled, more to yourself than to him, before settling down to sit more comfortably in the seat. Picking up your phone, you checked the percentage of power before finally unplugging it, checking through different apps to see if there was a message. 

“If it’s of any consolation, I’m okay with touch. I know you weren’t trying to hurt me,” comes out of your mouth absentmindedly. 

Ghost doesn’t answer. 

Instead, the lieutenant’s fingers toy with the controls of the radio, finally giving up and scrolling it back to the Texas radio station ‘The Trap’, and letting it play music softly so as not to disturb the sleeping soldiers behind him. 

You leaned on the centre console storage, arm laying on the armrest. 

Ghost’s right hand drops from the wheel, his forearm meeting your elbow. Heat radiates from him, emanating through the fabric of his sleeves. 

His wrist hangs over the console. Two gloved fingertips overlap your bare ones, warmth seeping into your skin as Future’s Turn on the Lights plays. 

[imaginewriting1]

so good it's nasty

Ariana Grande x youtuber!reader

Part 14 of "positions"

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 5.5 (1) | 5.5 (2) | 5.5.5 | 6 | 7 | 7.5 | 8 | 8.5 | 9 | 9.5 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

You found someone holding a sign with your name on it, whom you recognized as Ariana's driver. It was a compromise when you dissuade her from coming to pick you up personally since it would be a wrench in the singer's already busy schedule.

Once the car pulled away from the pick-up point and onto the highway, you texted Ariana the moment you landed as promised.

Her reply was immediate: welcome back.

It had been a long month. For the most part, it was fun and rewarding. Work didn't feel like work when you were happy to do it, and exploring a new city was exciting. However, you felt a little homesick in the midst of it all. So you worked hard, along with the rest of the filming crew, to wrap up the shoot as efficiently as possible.

You were homeward bound at last, and you spent the time in the backseat thinking of things to do when you reached your destination. A long shower and a nap sounded perfect.

When you finally arrived at your house, you stepped out of the car and took a deep breath. Ariana's driver was kind enough to help with your luggage before they drove off.

Walking towards the door, you turned the handle without using a key and found four familiar faces greeting you.

"Surprise!"

You tried your hardest to act as such, but Ariana had unintentionally hinted during texts what she had planned. Knowing you weren't one for surprises, Olivia straight-up told you. "It's not my birthday." You quipped instead as they swarmed around you to pull you into a big hug.

"No, just your return after an entire month!" Ariana half-shouted. "I- we've missed you."

"I missed you too, all of you." You replied, patting whoever's back that was within reach. The circle broke off after a beat, but Ariana held on a little longer, not that you were complaining.

"Alright that's enough PDA, let's eat." Victoria snarked, prompting laughter all around, and a small grumble from the koala impersonator.

Ariana did pull away from you a little, but her grip remained on your wrist as she tugged you towards the table. The wooden surface was filled with numerous takeout boxes and paper plates - a 'welcome home' feast.

"Is that-" You pointed out.

"Yup, all your favorites," Olivia confirmed. "Ariana insisted."

You wanted to take a quick shower but the girls suggested you eat first. Ariana ushered you to the middle of the couch but you stopped, knowing there wouldn't be enough space for all of you.

"Why don't we all sit on the floor instead? It'll be easier to eat anyway." You suggested. The girls agreed, surrounding the table. Ariana, unsurprisingly, took her seat beside you, while Victoria, Zendaya, and Olivia sat on the opposite side.

You didn't comment on the way Ariana's hand was resting on your lap the entire time. Instead, you focused on savoring the food as well as watching the film you had voted on.

Within 20 minutes, the five of you were in different states of inebriation. If they were put on a scale, Ariana was the tipsiest with two glasses of champagne. Zendaya had half a glass while Olivia had one. Victoria, unsurprisingly, didn't drink a sip, having milk tea like you.

"On Wednesdays, we wear pink!" Zendaya said, fully immersed in her role as Karen. You sat back and watched them turn into a giggling mess of quote recitations. You accepted every popcorn Ariana fed you every now and then.

As the movie played on, more glasses were emptied. "Do you want a refill?" You asked Zendaya quietly without interrupting their scenes reenactment of Mean Girls.

"I think I have enough alcohol for the day, can I have water instead?"

"Sure, I'll go get some." You stood up, much to Ariana's dismay for she had to find another pillow to substitute your arm. "Be right back," You appeased.

"I'll come with you." Zendaya followed you to the kitchen. You retrieved bottled water from the fridge and poured it into a cup. "So you and Ariana?"

You handed the cup to her. "Well, we decided to take it slow." While the two of you FaceTimed every night for the past month, the subject of her confession was never broached. It was an unspoken agreement that the conversation for that needed to take place face-to-face.

But all things considered, you couldn't believe that Ariana did want to be with you after all. You really thought your ending with her would be similar to the lesbian who fell for her (straight) best friend.

When the two of you returned as the movie ended coincidentally. Most of the takeout boxes were emptied so you started to clear the table. However, they shooed you off, offering to do it instead. So you excused yourself to your bathroom to wash up.

The moment you entered your bathroom, you showered quickly and put on a fresh set of clothes.

While putting your shirt on, a soft knock on the door put quickened actions. "Come in." Before you could turn to face your intruder, a pair of arms wrapped around you.

Of all the tells that revealed who the serial hugger was, the biggest was your body remaining in a relaxed state.

"I wonder who..." You started, feeling Ariana's laughter vibrate throughout your back. It was the only sound she made, besides the little sigh when her face burrowed into you deeper. "Ariana?"

She only responded after a few moments. "Can we stay just like this for a while?"

"We can. But you would prefer if I turned around?"

"Oh, yes please."

You shifted into position, adjusting your hold on her. "Better?"

"Yeah," she breathes out. "You smell really nice."

"It's a new soap I bought in New York. Speaking of which, I got you-"

The door slammed open, interrupting you. "Did you two forget our existence? I'm coming in!"

To be honest, you did, but you weren't going to admit it to Olivia, not after she rudely barged in. Besides, she seemed properly chastised by Ariana's glare. "No, I did not, I was just getting everyone's souvenirs."

The three of you returned to the living room where your luggage were. You returned a knowing and congratulatory smile from Victoria and Zendaya respectively when they spotted your intertwined hands.

You walked towards your luggage and retrieved your gifts. "It's the iconic 'I heart NY' shirt! You get a shirt, and you get a shirt, everybody gets a shirt." You exclaimed, throwing them into unsuspecting hands. Their expressions were comical, politely grateful after a moment of confusion.

Ariana seemed to share your enthusiasm. "Now we have matching couple shirts."

"So you guys are official?" Olivia spoke up, looking around to see everyone's reaction. "All of you knew before me?" She turned to look at you with a pout.

Why didn't you tell me first?

I'm sorry, but Ariana and I are still figuring things out. She must have told Victoria and I confirmed with Zen a few minutes ago in the kitchen since she asked.

You shot Olivia an apologetic smile which she accepted when she came up to congratulate the both of you.

"Let's toast to the couple," Victoria spoke up, raising her glass. Everyone raised their respective drinks, before taking a sip. You watched Ariana down what seemed to be her third glass of champagne.

"I'll go get you some water." You whispered to her before going to grab another bottled water from the fridge. When you came back, you find the girls huddling around the couch with Ariana sleeping soundly on it.

"I guess the party's over," Olivia said. "We should get going, to give you two some alone time together."

Victoria agreed with her, "Take care of her." Zendaya patted your shoulder as if to punctuate her point.

"Wait a minute." You instructed them after they put on their shoes at the door. You retrieved more gifts you brought back from NY - an artwork print for Olivia, a matching shirt and baby onesie for Victoria, and a set of essential oils for Zendaya.

Victoria and Zendaya thanked you again as they left with their cars. Olivia stayed back a little to tidy up the place before she go.

"You know, I hated that she hurt you," Olivia said, patting your shoulder. "But I'm glad things worked out between you two. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, Liv." You smiled, "Get back home safely."

Once she left, you returned to where Ariana was. By then, she had awoken from her short nap. "Where's everyone?" She yawned.

"They went home a few minutes ago. Do you want me to call your driver or do you-"

"I want to stay here tonight. I cleared the whole day tomorrow."

A smile formed on your face, despite being interrupted. "Alright. Let's go to bed then."

Apparently, Ariana had a different take on "go to bed" when she undid the top button of your shirt. "Ariana?" You questioned, albeit amusedly.

"What?" She feigned innocence, "the room is kinda hot, isn't it?"

"You should remove your own shirt then."

"Good idea."

You fell into her trap so easily. "I thought that we should take things slow?"

Her wicked smile doesn't waver. "I didn't mean that when it comes to sex. You have no idea how much I thought about you when you weren't with me. I don't wanna wait anymore."

It wasn't like you didn't want to sleep with her. But you were pretty tired from your flight and the party. "Aren't you drunk?"

"I'm not!" Ariana moved to prove herself, but she ended up slumping on top of you. "Well, drunk sex is pretty good too."

You laughed a little at her statement as you lifted her off you. "Let's do it when we're both not tired. And after we have talked."

"Fine," Ariana said, but it was muffled by your shirt. "I have the entire day with you tomorrow anyway."

You nodded your head and stood up. "You do."

"Where are you going?"

"To brush my teeth."

"Right, I need to do that too."

The two of you entered your bathroom, watching out for her if she stumbles. You reached for a new toothbrush in the cupboard behind the mirror.

"Remind me to buy this toothpaste for myself," Ariana said after using it. "And that soap from New York too."

You nodded your head. "I got you a bath bomb with the same scent but you can just use my soap anytime you want."

Ariana caught your eyes through the mirror. "Oh, I will."

You head back to bed first, giving Ariana the space to go through her nighttime routine. When you slipped under the covers you realized that it had been a while since had shared a bed or stayed with her the entire night. It was the first time she was sleeping in your bed together with you.

The bathroom light was switched off before the bed dipped beside you. The air under the sheets warmed immediately. You felt soft skin pressed against your arm.

"Are you comfortable in that position?" You asked, after a moment of quiet breathing.

"If I say no, will you turn and face me?"

You shifted until your vision was filled with the entirety of Ariana's face. Even in the dark, you could see the shadow of her smile. You rest an arm over her hips after she did so.

"Hi." Ariana's fingers printed on the small of your back.

"Hi, you replied, letting yourself gravitate towards her until the two of you collided gently. "This is nice."

Ariana hummed in agreement, snuggling further into you, fitting her face into the crook of your neck. "This is going to be my favorite thing to do every night," She mumbled, "Besides having sex."

You could only laugh at her comment. "Duly noted."

Even though your body was craving sleep, there was a small part of you that kept you awake - because for once, your reality was better than your dreams.

Ariana was right, you could get used to this.

AN: early access to later chapters on my ko-fi page. also feel free to DM or ask anonymously for any questions.

[professorsaber]

McFly July 8. Driver’s License

AO3 is down as of this posting, so I’m retroactively putting this on Tumblr as well—my McFly July entry for the 11th is a sequel to this one, so I want anyone reading that one to have context!

Thursday, March 7, 1996 3:40 PM      

Emmett Brown sat on the sign at the Hill Valley DMV.

Clara hadn’t yet learned how to drive an automobile, and her learner’s permit had almost expired when she woke her husband in the middle of the night and told him she needed to get an actual driver’s license now.

In the subsequent few weeks, he had given her a—no pun intended—crash course in how to drive. She had been a harder student than Marty, which was not only unexpected but almost impossible to believe. Her moods since that night had been incredibly erratic, and she had been prone to snapping at him at seemingly random moments—especially when she was behind the wheel.

It was all very strange.

She had taken the actual, DMV-supervised, behind-the-wheel test twice now. The second time she had done everything right—except when she hit the curb while trying to park the car when the test was over. That had been heartbreaking, even for Emmett. His wife, uncharacteristically, had broken into tears.

The first test was worse. The instructor had grabbed the wheel while a car was passing them in the opposite direction, and flunked her for it. Clara said she was certain there was enough room, and she had nearly—again, uncharacteristically—gotten in a fistfight with the instructor. Emmett had certainly been sympathetic, seeing as he not only trusted his wife’s judgment but had seen the instructor fail every single student she had that day. But he’d been able to convince Clara to drop it.

This was Clara’s third test. And, since the state of California apparently thought everything was baseball, a third failure would mean she’d have to start over from scratch.

He hopped off the sign and began pacing. He checked the watches on both wrists.

“What the hell is taking them so long?” he muttered to himself. He glanced at the payphone hanging by the door. They’d had to wait for an instructor long enough that he’d had to call Jennifer to pick up their children from school. She’d taken them back to the ranch with Marty, but she had to be wondering where they were.

He looked up, and saw his Ford Contour pull into the lot. With bated breath, he watched Clara pull the car expertly into a parking space—and stop three feet short.

Oh no, he thought. She’s failed the test!

Then, Clara turned off the car, got out, and raised her hands in triumph.

“Emmett!” she shouted as she ran to him. “I passed! I passed!”

“Thank goodness!” he said as she pulled him into a hug.

After they’d gotten everything sorted with the DMV, and after Emmett had used the payphone to call his children, Clara had insisted that he be the one to drive them home.

“Sorry,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “I’m suddenly so exhausted.”

“I understand,” he said. “I was so sure you’d failed the test. Because you parked so oddly.”

“I didn’t notice,” she said. She looked out the window. “I’ve been terrible these last few weeks.”

“Oh? I haven’t noticed.”

Clara gave him a look. “Emmett, I owe you an apology. And—oh, lord, pull over!”

Emmett slammed on the brakes. They had stopped along a country road. Clara opened the door, took off her seat belt, and threw up on the side of the road.

“’Mfine,” she said, waving away Emmett’s outreached hand. After some dry heaving, she sat back in her seat. “Sorry.”

“I didn’t realize you were sick.”

“Not sick,” she said. She sighed. “You’ll be glad you’re sitting down for this.”

TO BE CONTINUED ON THE 11TH

End notes:

Yes, to be continued.  Some of you may already know what's happening with Clara, and if you do please let me know if I've handled it insensitively.  But I've never actually ended something on a cliffhanger before, so when I realized I could do that here, I had to do it!

Also, Clara's DMV experience was pulled from mine—except for what's happening with her.

[masaaki-miyagawa]

Dream - "Abduction”

I was walking on the sidewalk of a large street, like Ginza Street, with my theater friends. It seemed to be somewhere in China.

We were heading to a Chinese restaurant where a delightful gathering was planned.

I found myself walking on the opposite side of the street, separated from them by the road. I could see my friends across the street, but gradually they disappeared from sight, and I ended up getting lost alone.

There were colorful and dazzling shops along the sidewalk, and I was captivated by the variety. Suddenly, a white boy on a small yellow mountain bike emerged from a side street and almost collided with me.

After walking for a while, we reached a large intersection, and turning right, the restaurant we were looking for should have been close by.

However, I got lost there, and couldn't figure out the restaurant's location. Even checking the map on my phone didn't help. It had been quite some time, and my friends were probably already seated. I tried to find the restaurant’s phone number on my phone, but couldn't locate it.

Despite being very close, I was struggling to figure out how to get there. In my confusion, I found myself entering a large white facility. It seemed like an office or a workshop.

A Middle Eastern-looking short man with a beard was kneeling on the floor, opening something like a brown leather commuter bag. It was my bag, and inside were my personal belongings. In a moment of panic, I took out my wallet. Checking it, the cards seemed to be safe, but all the bills were gone.

The man showed no intention of returning the bag and continued searching. Then, a small electronic device, resembling a miniature CRT television, with a black screen and red LED displaying what seemed like the time, emerged from it.

The man looked at me, questioning what it was. I didn't recognize the device, but desperate to leave the place, I told him he could have it and made gestures to that effect while heading back towards the exit.

Suddenly, a former Chinese colleague Sun appeared next to me, guiding me and leading me towards the exit. This time, a tall, slim Middle Eastern man, also wearing a flashy Hawaiian shirt, stopped me. He seemed to be indicating something about the shirt, which should have been mine. I told him I would give it to him too, and even complimented him on how good it looked. I just wanted to leave quickly and reach the restaurant as soon as possible.

Exiting the facility with Sun, we immediately encountered a busy street with cars passing by, and a large crowd of Chinese people. It seemed they were waiting for taxis, but there didn't seem to be any available.

Then, a car resembling a taxi approached. It seemed unoccupied. It was a gray car shaped like a 1950s BMW Isetta, but unlike the Isetta, the front of the car didn't open like a door; instead, it had a large door at the back.

Seeing the taxi, Sun warned me, saying it was an "anti-Japanese" car. The taxi stopped in front of us, and for some reason, we were able to board ahead of several Chinese people.

Once inside, I behaved as if I were not Japanese. The female driver asked where we were going. While being cautious about my Chinese pronunciation, I began to speak, but I couldn't remember the name of the restaurant. As the car continued to move, I tried to recall the name, but the Chinese characters wouldn't form. Vague characters like "百" or "楽" floated in my mind, mostly just horizontal lines that couldn't be recognized as characters.

I found myself holding Sun’s business bag, and I opened the zipper, searching through several books inside. Still searching, I asked Sun about the magazine that had information about the restaurant, but it wasn't there. I continued to search but couldn't remember the name. In the taxi, which seemed to be approaching a bypass, on a wide road that looked like a mountain approach, I was at a loss.

[tinylamb]

We were both standing across the street from my childhood home, in the middle of the night with only the street lights illuminating our surroundings. She got mad at me for not having the car keys.  Somehow, I managed to lock the keys inside of the car.   She went off on me about it, but I can’t remember what she said.  I remember feeling like I had to do everything in my power to not have her be upset. The guilt was starting to eat up at me. How did I accidentally leave something so important behind? I was trying to come up with a way to make it up to her, to make her not be mad at me anymore. At one point, I remember having my body between the door and the driver’s seat. That, or I was able to reach inside of the car because I left a window open, I can’t really remember. It was very tiny, this car, and I stretched my hand out to the frame of the back door and the window and pulled out the key.  It had a weird key fob. It almost felt like an elongated key fob, but not with an ordinary key fob shape.  I could feel the shame she felt for having doubted me. She was embarrassed that I was able to retrieve the key all by myself. I wanted to prove that I could still drive the car despite already having the key in my hand. I could have easily started the car now that I had the car key, but at this point I was feeling spiteful. I tried starting the car without sticking the key into the ignition. I pressed on the gas with my foot and it took off without it making any sound. It swerved around rapidly and I almost lost control. I ended up at the very front of my childhood home, almost crashing into a parked car and going a bit over the sidewalk.  It was now daylight and she disappeared. It felt like it was a crisp, autumn day. I used to love those days in my childhood. Chilly enough where you could feel the coolness of the air gently permeate the skin, but not enough where it was so cold you had to wrap your arms around yourself to fight it. There was another black car on the opposite side of the driveway. I looked at the license plate but I don’t remember what it said. I looked over to the red fence in front of me, blocking my view of the back garden, and then I woke up. 

I saw him in another dream a few days before. I was yelling at him. I can’t recall any of the words that I said, but I do remember what the topic at hand was. Why did he allow it to happen? Why didn’t he stop it? That wasn’t the exact phrasing, I know it wasn’t. It was close to it, though.  He allowed a wolf with sheep's clothing to enter our midst. He continued to talk to that monster despite the fact that he knew who he was and what he did. He was supposed to be my protector, but did absolutely nothing to right a wrong. He abandoned me and left me to mend the heartbreak of his betrayal. He felt no remorse or shame for being absent when I needed him most. I would make him feel the same guilt and embarrassment I felt all these years, and I would scream it in his face so he could feel the weight of my words and carry that around with him just like I did. I said my peace, and all he did was look down. I remember seeing him standing on the steps, his figure outlined by the frame of the door to a mobile home we grew up in… At least, that’s what it looked like. I only remember seeing this door frame in a picture. A picture of loved ones, with her holding a baby in her arms, while I stood by her side. 

He walked off the steps and walked right past me. I meant to turn around and confront him, but then I woke up.

[mushroomsoupofficial]

It's 2:48am on 2.2.23 now, it took me a few minutes to collect myself before I could write this all out

There was a busy intersection that people often set up stalls on, it was pretty busy with vehicle traffic, double turn lane type beat but I knew some of the people who sold there and it was really early or really late, no sun, so it wasn't super busy.

A younger woman who I recognized came up to my car, her mother was selling (cookies?) And she asked if I was interested, I said yes. She went to get her mother and she did not speak English (Spanish maybe?) like her daughter, but I could catch enough of what she was saying to answer in yes or no's. "Do you speak language" and "can you understand" were the two questions asked. The light changed, so she told me to pull into the Shell gas station on the opposite corner since I was turning left. I did, I remember parking and getting out to exchange details with the daughter before placing the order with the mother.

The next thing I knew I was sitting in the back row of my own car. It's darker now, I'm shaking and I feel like I'm drunk but I haven't had anything to drink, I know that much. I can recall everything that happened above, but I can't stop shaking. My breath isn't coming easily, and now I start to freak out in earnest. I have my purse on, before it had been in the front passenger seat but now it's slung across my body and when I open it I find a lighter and a nearly empty pack of cigarettes. It's my brand, I can smell them, but I stopped smoking years ago and this pack looks really new despite the number missing. I pull out two, I put one in my mouth and hold it there, lighter in hand but not taking that final step. My motions are mechanical in a way that looks intentional, but I am simply watching from inside.

My head is still full of static, anxiety pulling at my chest, and I think maybe I just got really tired and pulled into the gas station to sleep for a bit? I can't make sense of why I'm sitting in the third row of my car. I decide to climb toward the front, and despite my head feeling incredibly dazed and drunken I am able to move easily, climbing over the middle row.

I notice that the driver's seat has been moved forward against the steering wheel, which doesn't make sense because there are doors on both sides of the back that open into the second row, why was the driver's seat collapsed against the steering wheel? I move it back and sit down. I still have an unlit cigarette hanging from my lips and another in my hand along with a lighter. I don't smoke anymore. Pulling the cigarette from my lips I drop both and the lighter into the center console.

My keys are not in the ignition but there's air coming out of the vents. I can't feel it so I don't know if it's cool or warm, but I can hear it. Based on my shakiness, it must be cool. My keys are sitting on the steering column, so I grab them and put them in the ignition. I am filled with the sudden urge to run from this place as fast as I can, but my vision is darkening around the edges and my head feels like it's full of sand, too heavy to keep up. I turn the keys in the ignition despite knowing I am not safe to drive, maybe I am drunk? It doesn't matter because the starter isn't catching. Have I been sitting in here with the ac on for hours, killing the battery?

I hear a voice now, it's loud and masculine but a bit distorted. They're speaking English but I can't understand what they're saying. The words aren't catching in my brain. I try the ignition again, still no luck. The voice speaks again, this time I hear "pump three" "will be here soon" "you cannot leave" "please sit tight" I'm filled with panic again. Did they think I was trying to drive drunk and called the police? I look out the window now and see that I'm still as the gas station, pulled haphazardly into the space for pump #3. I didn't recall parking at a pump.

It's too dark though, and there's no way that my window tinting caused the total loss if saturation I see. Maybe my head is way more fucked than I thought? No, the lights aren't on. Normally the awning of the fuel pumps are spectacularly well-lit, but it's dark now and it feels extremely wrong. What kind of 24hour gas station turns their lights off with so many cars at the pumps? I cracked the window open a bit to look out, just to make sure that the world is as dark and colorless as I am seeing from this side of the glass.

I see lights bounce off the cars at the other pumps, but they're just normal headlights not the red and blue of a police car. The flight part of my fight or flight is still triggered, but I have nowhere to run. My car won't start and my vision is getting worse, my eyes as heavy as my head now. I hear a new voice, bold but feminine. My driver's side door is opened and a few seconds pass. I don't know who's there, so I move out to grab the door and close it. Blue latex gloves hands latch onto my arm and I'm being gently pulled from the car.

I panic, thinking it's the cops again and start insisting that I'm not drunk, there's something wrong with me, my head is not okay. There's a soothing pat on my hand from the gloved woman, it's dark but I can see a yellow and blue (bus? Transit van?) With its headlights on that I am being led towards. "Do you know what happened?" No, I'm crying now, my chest is tight and my vision is swimming but no longer fading away around the edges. I insist once more that there is something wrong with me.

The woman made a sound of confirmation and then said, "There was a shooter at the gas station." I'm watching the ground as we walk and I finally recognize the dark puddles all around, the red color of one ahead of us illuminated by the buses headlights. There was blood everywhere. I'm sobbing now, I don't understand still and I'm terrified, but I let her lead me onto this bus where I see several others huddled just within the doors.

People are taking turns touching my hands, and I hear someone else crying too, and the realization sets in, burning through my lungs and settling like a lead weight against my ribs. There was an active shooter, I was bleeding, I had a concussion, and I am in shock.

I wake up.

It's 3:36, my eyes are heavy again and I'm going back to bed.

[royalstydia]

make me forget his name

rafe cameron x reader 

warnings: 18+, mentions of alcohol, cursing, SMUT, just your average fucking IN PUBLIC, oral (fem! receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (but maybe wrap it before y’all tap it? also she’s on the pill so no sperm babies), slight praising, mentions of bodily fluids, sorta choking, also this is in 1st person pov??? 

request from @jakson2003 : rafe smut where the reader is dating jj but finds out he cheated on her so she gets drunk and ends up on the side of the road then rafe finds her

Most of the time, I maintained the status of being the chill, nonchalant girl. I was usually phased by very little. However, JJ made me feel things I never even thought were possible. He was broken and in many ways, so was I. 

It was probably the reason I was driving back to figure 8, absolutely pissed off and in tears. Catching JJ shacking it up with some girl in the chateau was yet another heartbreak added to the list. But hey, how can I be mad when everyone warned me that’s who he was. 

Moments like this were the ones when people would silently ask themselves how much worse shit can get. And oh, did it get worst. 

I found myself in the middle of the road with a broken down car. I screamed, punched the steering wheel, blamed JJ for being in this position; All of which ultimately did nothing. A groan slipped past my lips, as I sunk into the driver’s seat. 

Still, I figured there was no way it could get any shittier from here. But nevertheless, the dead battery on my phone proved me wrong. A sigh of defeat came out, as I grabbed the bottle of liquor I kept in the glove compartment. 

—— 

An hour had gone by and my figure was sat on the curb of the road. Not one person had sped past, thanks to taking the backroads. I was tipsy, but it wasn’t enough to help me forget. The memory of that blonde, blue-eyed fuck getting his cock sucked by some random girl kept replaying in my head. That was all it took to have me swigging another shot of alcohol. The small sting in my throat not even bothering me anymore. 

The bottle touched my lips, but left the minute I heard a car approaching. To my luck, that car happened to be Rafe’s. I closed my eyes for a moment, inhaling a sharp breath and mentally preparing myself to talk to him. The sound of his door slamming shut filled my ears. His footsteps got closer, until it stopped. My head stayed down, even after my eyes caught sight of his shoes. 

“I”m really not in the mood right now, Cameron.” I said lowly. My voice raspy from all the crying and screaming earlier. 

“Even I’m not that much of an asshole to ruin your day any more than it already is.” He said, after locking eyes with my bloodshot, puffy ones. 

I nodded, before looking down. I felt his presence next to mine, as he sat on the curb. 

He didn’t say anything, rather just keeping me company. We sat in comfortable silence, both staring off into the distance. 

It was cut short, when he grabbed the bottle pressed against my mouth. “Hey, what the fuck?” 

I attempted to reach over him to get it, but his arm held me back, which I happily shoved to the side. 

“Cutting you off.” He simply stated. 

I scoffed. “So much for not ruining anything.” 

I quickly picked myself up, beginning to walk the opposite direction, when I heard him call out my name. 

“You really going to walk all the way home or are you going to come here and tell me why you’re sitting in the middle of the fucking road?” He questioned. 

I stopped in my tracks, taking a breath. 

“He cheated on me.” I seethed. My back faced him, not wanting to see his reaction; Or better yet, not wanting him to see the pained expression on my face. 

“Yeah, no surprise he’s an ass. So, what are you going to do about it?” He responded back. 

I turned around, inching towards him. He was now standing near my car. I wasted no time grabbing his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss. I felt him kiss me back. It lasted all of a few seconds, before he pulled away. 

“You’re drunk, Y/N.” He stated, staring into my eyes. 

“Sober enough to remember his name.” I uttered back. 

My lips were mere inches from his, as I whispered, “You asked me what I was going to do about it- help me forget.”  

I couldn’t read the expression on his face before it briskly turned into a smirk. 

“How do you suppose I do that?” He chaffed.

“Fuck me so good that I’ll barely even know my own name, let alone his.” I enticed. 

That was all it took to have him pinning me against the hood of my jaguar. 

Rafe peered into my warm hazel eyes for any sign of uncertainty, only to find none. He gripped my neck, yanking my lips back onto his. 

The kiss was rough and sensual. I then felt him press a soft kiss against my collarbone. It was enough to foster a small pool of wetness between my thighs. 

My fingers wrapped around his dirty blonde locks, as my head tilted back, allowing him access to pepper a trail of tiny kisses down my neck. A quiet moan slipped past my lips as he sucked on my sweet spot.

His lips opted to place small hickeys on the tops of my breast. His hand grazing my bare chest when his fingers made its way under my shirt. My right nipple hardening from the slight pinch of his fingers. 

His other hand lingered down the front of my body, lightly trailing over the top of my shorts. 

“Rafe.” I breathed, my voice laced with desire. 

“Talk to me, pretty girl.” He hummed. 

“Touch me, please.” I glanced up at him, doe-eyed. 

He wasted no time unbuttoning my shorts, his hand slipping into my laced panties. He held my gaze, his eyes brimming with lust when he felt my arousal. 

He rubbed my bud softly, tracing his fingers between my folds. His thumb pressed against my clit, drawing figure eights. 

I let out a sigh of relief when he pushed two fingers into me. He slowly pulled them out, before inching them back in. He finger-fucked me at a torturously slow pace, taking his sweet time to tease me. 

Only after little whines left my lips, did he dare to speed up. His digits started pumping into me, my wetness coating his thick fingers. 

A soft moan erupted as he curled his digits, hitting my g-spot. 

His fingers started pumping into me at an ungodly pace, my hand reaching to grip his wrist, the pleasure becoming overwhelming. To no avail, he failed to slow down, edging me on further. 

Before I could cum, he pulled his fingers out. He stopped the whine ready to come out of my mouth by pushing his fingers past my lips. I sucked on it, tasting myself and humming lightly. He groaned at the sight, reaching down to adjust the bulge in his pants.  

My eyes followed, noticing the outline of his length. I quickly replaced his hands, opting to lightly stroke him through his pants. 

“Let me help you forget, pretty girl.” He spoke, softly. 

One of his hands came up to my chin, forcing me to make eye contact. Both our eyes brimming with lust. 

My soft browns maintained a pleading look, silently begging him to fuck me. A smirk slowly made its way onto his face, acknowledging the affect he had on me. 

I swiftly unopened his slacks, pulling his boxers down along with them. 

His hard cock sprung free, slapping against his abs. I refrained from licking my lips at his size. 

My fingers reached to touch him, sliding across his tip. I wiped off the pre-cum, bringing it up to my lips and licking my index clean. I stared at him as I wrapped my hand around his shaft and pumped him a few times. 

He grabbed my wrist, stopping my movement. He opened the passenger door, his gaze flickering to the seat, telling me to hop into the front seat. His hands hooked unto my thighs, pulling me to the edge of the seat. 

His tip rubbed against my slick folds a couple times, leaving me wanting more. I pushed my hips forward, right before he pushed into me. 

He gave me a few seconds to adjust before he retracted his dick and slammed back into me, causing a loud pornographic moan slipped out of my mouth. 

His strokes were short and hard, as he grabbed my hips, pushing himself further into me. I groaned as he lifted my left leg, resting it against his shoulder.

His cock sunk deeper into me with the new angle. My back arched, my top half falling onto the middle console, while his movements got faster. 

I screamed his name, as he pounded into my pussy. 

My mouth hung open and my hand reached to grip the headrest of the seat. His fingertips dug into my hips, certain to leave an imprint on my skin. He mercilessly fucked into me. 

One of his hands released my hips, lightly wrapping around my neck. He pulled me up by my throat, so he could see my face as his large cock teared into me. 

“You fuck me so good.” I cried out. 

“Yeah? How good, pretty girl?” He chaffed. 

“So fucking good, Rafe.” I moaned.  

He continued to rail into me, while I moved my hand down to massage my clit, moaning loudly as I touched my sensitive core. 

I felt a knot form in my stomach, before I clenched around him. My body arching off the seat and my toes curling. My breathing grew heavier as I came on his dick. 

His movements didn’t halter, chasing his own high. A throaty groan managed to slip past his lips, as he came inside me. 

Both of us stared at one another, struggling to catch our breaths. I gave him a half-hearted smile, which he returned. My eyes widened when he lowered his head and licked a stripe up my slit. His mouth began sucking on my clit. I let out a mewl, my hands latching onto his dirty blonde hair. 

He continued to tongue-fuck me, occasionally nipping at my tender bud. 

I hummed, throwing my head back. My vision blurred and my mind was decisively hazed. Maybe it was the pleasure or the sight of having the kook king on his knees on bare concrete in front of me, but in that moment everything was just pure bliss. I forgot every painful memory, every excruciating feeling and every person who had ever did me wrong. 

I gasped, as I released again on his tongue. He gazed up at me with a shit-eating grin, before cleaning me up. 

He helped me get dressed, prior to putting on his own clothes. 

“Let me give you a ride home, pretty girl.” Rafe spoke softly, offering a kind smile. 

And maybe it wasn’t just for a moment. 

— 

not my best tbh but i was supposed to post this a hot min ago 

and for everyone who requested something, i’ll be writing it soon lol

for the person that requested this, i hope you like it and i’ll probably end up editing it soon

royalstydia <3

[swagatron9]

Castra

Pairings: Bo Sinclair x reader

Warnings: oral (male receiving), dub-con, voyeurism

Summary: A camping trip gone wrong. Bo spares you, to an extent.

I thought nothing could go wrong with a harmless camping trip, but boy was I wrong. My parents always taught me stranger danger, so why didn't I listen?

My legs were tired, sore from all the running I had previously been doing. I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep it up, but I knew I had to.

Witnessing the death of all but one of my friends was hard to take in, I didn't want to take it in. I would get on my knees and plead that this scenario was all a joke, a prank my friends played or even just a stupid nightmare.

The church was eery. All the wax figures sitting and staring at the altar and there was me.

I ran over to the alter and crouched down behind it, crossing my fingers that no one saw me come in.

I held my breath as I heard the door open and slam shut. The footsteps were loud like they were taunting me in a way. A loud whistle could be heard. "There's nothin' I love more than goin' to church." Bo's voice echoed throughout the building. "How disrespectful these kids are nowadays. Disruptin' the peace is all their good for." Never once had we meant to be rude or 'disrupt the peace' all we wanted was to get out of here and these psychopaths decided to kill my friends and now I'm being hunted.

It returned back to silence, the only thing I could hear was my heartbeat in my ears, and I wondered if he, too, could hear the thumping of my beating heart.

A bang was heard from the opposite side of the church, and I took a breath out, thinking that he had finally left. "Did ya’ really think you could get away from me?" I let out a scream as the man popped out in front of me.

I attempted to get up and escape from Bo, only to be caught in his grip. He held me against him with a tight hold, heavy breath in my ear. "Look what I found. Crawled up in a ball and everythin'." Bo chuckled. "And to think ya’ were beginnin' to grow on me. Shame, isn't it."

He might as well have been carrying me as I was dragged out of the church. "I'm sorry. Whatever we did to upset you, I'm sorry. Please stop." I begged. The tears began to fall as he gripped my hair hard.

"darlin' ya’ have no idea what you're in for." Bo mocked my cries every now and then causing embarrassment to take over.

He pulled me to his truck where he shoved me into the passenger seat from the drivers way. Bo locked the doors and then proceeded to do up my seatbelt before driving off.

We made our way to the house we were previously at and I tried to get out of my seat. Bo held me in with his hand as he kept a tight grip on the seatbelt. “Stop.” You whined as you tried to remove his hand.

Bo did stop the car, but that was only because we had arrived at the hous of horrors. I was once again removed from vehicle the same way that I was forced into it and dragged inside.

The man in the mask stood in the middle of the hallway as if he was waiting for our arrival. “I got an idea for this one Vince.” Vincent tilted his head to the side as he stared at the two of us. “‘member what we were talkin’ about the other day. Thinkin’ I could show ya’ with this pretty little doll.” Thoughts flooded my mind of what could possible happen with what he was insinuating. “Ya’ wanna get out of here don’t ya’?” You frantically nodded your head. “Well ya’ see, my brother here is a bit of a freak. He likes to watch people, if ya’ catch my drift.” Bo winked at you.

You shook your head, feigning stupidity as you didn’t want to believe what Bo was trying to ask of you. “Suck my cock and I’ll let ya’ go.” Bo negotiated. You shook your head once more and tried to remove yourself from Bo’s right hold. “It’s either that darlin’, or my brother turns ya’ into one of his wax dolls. Who knows what he does to those things.” His hands cupped the side of your face as he looked down at you. “What do ya’ say, wanna give my brother a show? Those pretty lips of yours are just perfect after all.” His thumb swiped over your trembling bottom lip as you looked to the ground to avoid his gaze.

You felt degraded as you hesitantly nodded your head, not only were you having to get your potential killer off, but his creepy brother had to watch to and you weren’t even guaranteed a safe escape. “Ya’ know how it goes then.” Bo gestured down to the hard wood floor as he unzipped his jeans.

Slowly your knees connected with the rough floor and almost immediately they began to ache as you put all your body weight on them. “Let me see those tits of yours. Fuck they look perfect already.” You slid off your t shirt revealing your lacy bra. Ignoring the footsteps that came from Vincent, you focused all your attention on Bo who had pulled his cock out and was slowly jerking it to your tits.

You say still as Bo brought his cock closer towards your face. “Suck it will ya’.” Bo demanded. He pressed the tip to your lips that still refused to move. Before finally he pushed himself to enter in your mouth.

You cringed at the salty taste of his pre cum that hit your taste buds. Your teeth grazed his cock as you tried to get him to stop, only to freeze when you felt the tip of a knife on your cheek. “Pull some shit like that again and you’ll know about it.” Immediately you opened your mouth further and Bo thrusted as far as he could into your mouth.

Bo let out a loud groan. “That’s more like it.” He said as he felt your tongue press flat against the underside of his cock.

Your jaw was slack as you allowed Bo to push himself further. You couldn’t help but look up, making eye contact with Bo who was staring down at you with pure lust. “Fuck ya’ look damn pretty.” He ran his fingers through your hair and pulled it back into a makeshift ponytail.

He guided your head against his wet cock, using you as his own flesh light. “Take some close ups will ya’, Vince.” You looked over to Vincent with a camera taking many pictures of the pornographic scene in front of him.

You whimpered as you heard the flash, disliking the idea of them having pictures of you in such a vulnerable state. “Do that again. Fuck ‘m gonna cum.” Bo let out a guttural moan.

Your body gave in before you could stop yourself and the next thing you knew you were moaning causing Bo to feel the vibratons. He stilled his hips as you felt cum shoot into your mouth.

Bo pulled his dick out with a loud pop echoing when you released the tip. You tried not gag as you swallowed his remains. “Now that I think about it. I don’t want to let ya’ leave. Ya’ could be an important asset to our team.”

[pinkchanelbag]

what we want. [e. jaegar]

in order to bus to the ball tournament, you, the team manager, have to stay the night at the house of the startup point guard and your best friend, eren.

wc: 5k.

cw: NSFW 18+, female bodied reader, not proofread.

note: this is so LONG IM SO SORRY im literally incapable of pnp. but enjoy hehe.

“get down,” eren murmured into your ear. 

you barely heard him above connie and marco’s obnoxious singing, but you did hear him. looking up into his face, you could see he was serious and that his eyes were staring out of the car window and at something. when you followed his gaze, you spotted the cop car, and quickly pushed yourself further down into eren’s lap, grunting with the effort. 

“connie, shut up!” armin said from his seat beside you with jean on his opposite side. the poor guy got stuck with the middle seat, between the two tallest players on the team, no less. not to mention the entire body eren carried on his lap. 

from the front seat, connie halted his wailing of party in the usa to whip his head back with an offended glare, but when he noticed armin and eren’s attention towards, there he saw it, a cop car, he murmured an oh shit and slapped marco’s shoulder. the power forward stopped singing himself and quickly took the hint. the car was quiet for a few moments as you uncomfortably curled your upper body downwards. your face was close to eren’s knees and your lower half was pressing into your friend’s in a way that was hard for either of you to ignore. you groaned at the position, calling out to your friends. 

“next time, jean takes someone’s lap.” 

“why me!?” he exclaimed. “it should be connie, he’s the shortest.”

“HEY,” connie yelled. “it’s my car. unless you shits plan on walking to the tournament, what i say goes.” it didn’t take long for the members of the starting lineup to break out into a petty argument over who should sit on whose lap, but you still sat crouched into eren’s lap, huffing with annoyance. you knew it was a stupid idea to try to fit all six of you in the car, especially during rush hour when police had a special eye out. 

“you’re good now,” eren chuckled. you unfolded yourself and hit him on the arm. 

“don’t laugh,” you said. he didn’t, but he continued to smile for a few moments. that was, until you started rolling your head to the left and right to stretch out your neck. 

“fucking hell,” you groaned, oblivious to the way eren’s eyes lined the columns of your throat. 

“yeah...we definitely can’t do this again...” he laughed. you looked back at him with an amused smile, and he knew you understood his meaning. well, it had been many years since you were anything but brazen around eren. 

“you guys are gross,” armin stated with a raised brow. you simply stuck your tongue out at him. just then, the car hit an especially sharp bump in the road that a) practically bounced you on eren’s lap and b) elicited a sharp sound from the trunk. eren grunted at the impact of you landing back on his lap. you braced yourselves against his thighs.

“connie!” you shouted. “you’re gonna break my perfume bottle, you asswipe!”

“you broke my dick,” eren squeaked. 

“how is a road bump my fault!? i hate you guys, i’m never driving you again!” the small guard in the driver’s seat started. “and it’s not my fault you live across the fucking city, y/n!” 

you simply huffed at that, because there was little you could say. the bus would come house to house to pick you all up for the basketball tournament early tomorrow morning, and your house was so ridiculously far from the school that it would disrupt the entire trip schedule to go out of the way picking you up. you volunteered to spare the additional expenses and time and just not come, but the team had insisted that they needed their manager there. so the solution had been to stay at the home of one of the players, and it wasn’t exactly a tough decision, seeing as the startup point guard, the boy whose genitals you just smushed, has been your best friend since your first day of university. 

“sorry,” you mumbled to him, but he shook his head to dismiss it. you realized that as you had clutched his thighs for support, he had sunk his hands into the plush of your outer thighs near your hips to brace himself against the pain. the hairs that fell from his bun tickled your ear as your bodies leaned over, and when he spoke you could hear it ridiculously close.

“little gentler next time?” he murmured. you felt goosebumps rise on your arms at the implication, at next time, but you simply dismissed him with a shh. 

it wasn’t always like this, that was true. you and eren truly were friends, and had built that friendship based on mutual struggle through your first year as university students. but you supposed that the two of you had gotten closer in the second semester last year, when the weather was kinder and you had more classes together and more free time. more friends, more comfortable spaces and knowing your way around. and throughout the summer, you had spent many days together, along with your combined friend group, and you and eren had always been especially connected. you were best friends, probably. you’d never cared enough to think about it. 

“okay, get out.” connie turned over to look into the back, in particular at you and eren. he’d skidded to a stop in front of eren’s mother’s house. quite a few members of the basketball team had already lived in the city prior to getting into university, so made no use of the student residence when they had homes of their own already. lucky for you, eren was one of those people. you didn’t think you’d be able to last the night in a boy’s tiny dorm. 

after pulling your luggage and eren’s gym bag out the trunk, heeding jean’s don’t you dare be late threats and bidding goodbye to the exhausting starting lineup, you and eren finally made your way into the house.

for all the time you’d spent together in the last year and a half, you’d never been to eren’s house. because of how far you lived, you often spent the night in your friend sasha’s dorm for the night, so there was never reason to stay at anyone’s home but hers and your own. this was your first year as basketball team manager. it was also your first tournament, and as exciting as it was, you were too exhausted from the week to care at the moment.

after practically wrestling your tiny suitcase from your hands, eren nodded in the direction of a staircase.

“mom’s not home right now. c’mon,” he said, bag in each hand. his shoulder blades bulged sharply through the fabric of his team t-shirt at the effort of going up the stairs with the weight. you hardly noticed the way your eyes rested on the sight as you followed him up.

“um...hope you don’t plan on putting me in the same bed as you,” you said, arriving to the top of the stairs. eren threw his gym bag down one direction of the landing where you saw an open door to what looked like a laundry room. eren let out an amused heh under his breath.

“nah, don’t worry. you’ll sleep on the floor.”

you smacked his back lightly as you followed him into his bedroom. he only laughed again, putting down your suitcase and straightening up as you stepped aside from behind him to take a look at the room.

“oh, you are such a boy,” were the first words out of your mouth. eren gave you a look, but you only giggled and did a 360 of the room. pale blue walls lined with occasional sports posters. on one side, a wall closet with its door closed and an overflowing laundry hamper standing nearby. an unmade twin bed with a textbook teetering at the end of it, a tv, playstation, and overflowing bookshelf set up against the wall that had the door, and a window staring back opposite you with a view of the cul-de-sac. when stated in those terms, it might’ve sounded like eren was rich or close to it, but really it wasn’t as simple as that. it was actually quite a small bedroom, in a neighborhood of mostly one-storey houses filled with diverse families. you knew from what eren had told you in the past that he started out playing basketball with kids in the area, one of whom had a net set up in his driveway. years later, eren was able to go to college on a partial sports scholarship. 

“i’ve had this room since i was eight,” eren huffed. you giggled and continued to look around with shuffled, timid steps. on the other hand, eren stepped into the room and laid down on his bed. he upper body and thighs rested on the mattress, his knees bent and feet still touching the ground. he brought his hands to his head and let out a groan of exhaustion. practice had been especially gruelling all week to prepare for the tournament.

“have i mentioned that you stink?” you told him, still standing near the door.

“about a hundred times. i’ll shower in a bit.” he brought his hands away from his face and instead clasped them behind his head to look at you. “you can come in, you know.”

you couldn’t help but smile. “actually, this room is kinda cute. i’ve never had a home i stayed in for so long.” you turned to look at the bookshelf, which of course had few books in it. instead it had shoeboxes, old baseball gloves, some framed pictures, and years’ worth of tokens and trinkets of eren’s life. “can i look through all your shit?” you turned to him and asked with a purposely too-bright smile. eren chuckled and gestured in a manner that said have at it, and so you began poking at the memories along the shelf. you were careful not to step on the tip of eren’s feet (again, the room wasn’t exactly big) as you glanced along the wall at the sports trophies and posters. it was a strange thing how you could see these naked glimpses into eren’s life. it was a rather casual kind of intimacy, you thought. it made you smile, being able to be closer to eren. you figured there’d been lots of girls in this room, but you got an almost childish satisfaction at knowing that while they got one busy night, you’d gotten, and would continue to get, the intimacies from eren that allowed you to see the boy for who he really was, and that made you equally special to him. 

it was also strange how you couldn’t really know the way eren’s eyes followed your figure as you shifted in a semi circle through the room. you stopped halfway along your route, looking at the closet and then turning to meet eren’s gaze, asking permission. eren nodded his consent, and you opened the closet, giggling at the way he’d no doubt shoved a few stray things in the room into it in anticipation of your arrival.

“shut up,” he said, but there was no push in his voice. he propped himself up on his elbow and lulled his head over one shoulder to look at where you stood at his side. he wasn’t exactly conscious of it, but he found some comfort and enjoyment in watching you walk and move, watching your torso twist and your hips and legs sway idly. it was the same with your face, how he watched it almost as a default rest stop for his eyes. he liked watching the muscles of your existence move to animate you. 

of course, jean would just call it staring at your ass. 

“i’m gonna go shower,” eren finally said after having his moment of rest. he heaved himself off the bed and grabbed a towel from the hook behind the door. 

“can i get changed in here?” you asked, fingers scratching your jeans. 

“go for it,” and then he was off, just barely missing the little oooh you made at finding a hoodie of eren’s in the closet that you’d always particularly liked on him. 

in the shower, eren let the water run over his back muscles. he leaned against the wall and sighed, and found that there was a content smile on his face. he was excited for this night. being around you was fun. not just fun like entertaining, but genuinely giddy. he always looked forward to when it was just the two of you. even more so considering the way the two of you had been subconsciously pushing the boundary of physical touch between friends. tonight, he looked forward to being able to pull you against him as you watched a movie or have you braid his hair, or something. he liked being close to you in a way that was different than any other girls. he didn’t pay it much mind. 

he was done his shower before long, stalking into the hall and towards his bedroom with his towel wrapped around his torso. he figured he’d grab some clean clothes and go back to the bathroom to change. when he pushed the ajar door, his jaw hung open at seeing you crouched quite close to where he stood, where he had dropped your suitcase that you now rummaged through. you looked up at him, and for both parties, the angle was nothing short of lewd. you peered up at eren in nothing but his towel and chain, hair down and wet, drops of water dotting his toned stomach and arms. if he had stepped a foot closer, you’d surely be able to see right up the towel. meanwhile, eren looked down at you kneeled by his feet, and didn’t miss that you had changed into a hoodie and sleep shorts. his hoodie. 

“that’s mine,” he said dumbly. you lifted yourself up slowly so as not to lean forward any closer to him. 

“yeah,” you replied, and your tone was nervous, which was a first despite your not so occasional suggestive circumstances with the boy. “where are your clothes?” 

the two of you stood close but not too close, and far but not quite that far. it felt weirdly like a confrontation, like there was something you were supposed to say to each other. 

“there,” eren said, nodding at the closet. he cleared his throat and side-stepped you. his hand grazed your waist as he passed, and you felt your breath hitch. what the hell?

you didn’t really process it, but rather just turned around to absently watch him. but when you saw the way his shoulder blades flexed as he reached into the shelves of the closet, you had to manually suck in a breath. 

meanwhile, eren could practically feel his fingers itch at the way you’d look with legs bare and the zipper of his hoodie nicely revealing your collarbone. in an instant, he was struck with the panic of popping a boner right then and there. when he turned to leave, he had to hold back a groan at the way you just stood there. 

“i’m gonna go change in the, uh...” he said, stepping forward once again to leave the room, once again needing to go around you. this time, however, he moved slower because he couldn’t help but look at you. it took all his willpower not to drag his eyes up and down your figure. he managed to simply stare at the exposed skin at your sternum. 

“mmhm,” you hummed, but now neither of you moved. after a few moments, eren spoke again.

“why you wearing that?” it was a casual question, so why was his gaze so intense? 

“oh, uh,” you breathed a nervous laugh. “i just always liked this. liked how it looked on you, plus it’s comfy...” 

“looks better on you.” you bunched the fabric in your hands nervously, but that only accentuated where your thighs and hips curved together, and eren gulped, inching closer. “looks good.” 

you looked away from his stare, but found that your vision was consumed mostly by his unbearable chest. the towel he held, along with clothes bunched in his fingers, did little to hide the v-shaped path leading to--

“can you put a shirt on?” you asked, poking his hard stomach. your voice wasn’t as joking as you’d hoped it would be, but still eren laughed. 

“problem?” he asked. before you could retrieve the finger, he grabbed it in his free hand, and you were breathing manually again. and this time, his gaze was too much not to meet. and it said what you both were thinking. in fact, it was so obvious that two conversations seemed to exist: the verbal one, and the one between your eyes, the latter being the more forthcoming. you stood there for a few moments more. eren’s hand shifted to clasp your four fingers. 

“you okay?” he asked. he wasn’t sure what he intended with the question, but he wanted to know the answer anyway. 

“um...yeah.” and it was true. you’d never actually felt uncomfortable around eren. “...just nervous.” 

eren smiled softly. 

“me too.” 

he pulled you into him by your hand to collide his lips with yours. 

once the hand is free, you plant both of them on the tops of his bare shoulders, and his skin is so warm that it lights fire in your stomach. his one hand rests on the place above your waist and under your arm before sliding to the centre of your back to pull you as close as he can without letting go of his towel. but as your bodies shifted, so did the towel, and he had to fumble with his hand to shimmy it back up his hips. he pulled away with a woah woah woah to readjust it, hand still on your waist. you met each other’s eyes, breaths short. 

“what are we doing?” he asked. not in a negative way, but rather as if he was asking for the next step. 

“i don’t know,” you said with an identical tone. “is this bad?”

“uh...i don’t think it--wait, do you mean the kiss?”

“no, no the kiss wasn’t ba-”

“yeah, good ki...good, uh-”

“i mean is this-” you gestured between you and him with your eyes. “-bad?”

“it doesn’t have to be if we don’t want it to.” 

“so...we want it?” you asked, and there was a slight nod of your head. eren grinned, his own slight nod back before taking your lips again. there was something equal parts tender and needy. it was evident in the way eren’s arm wrapped all the way around you to put his hand on your opposite hip, fingers tangled in the hem of the hoodie and scrunching it up just enough for you to feel his fingers on the skin of your waist. his head was caged between your arms, but he didn’t seem to mind. you could feel everything. his damp hair slicking your cheeks and curtaining both of your faces, the way his lips stroked yours, his chest against yours, the heat in your core. 

you were pulled out of the daze at eren’s steps backwards towards the bed, bringing you with him. now, with his back to the foot of the bed, he laughed sheepishly. you noticed he’d long dropped his change of clothes to the ground. 

“i am very naked,” he said. you burst into a giggle at which he rolled his eyes with red cheeks, and it was strange to see eren bashful over his appearance for the first time. it was endearing, intimate. 

“sit,” you told him softly. he did as you told him, with legs spread but not quite enough to reveal the towel’s contents (though the bulge in the fabric was very hard to miss). once again, his free hand came up to touch you, stroking the plush of your thigh and admiring you with impatience. 

“you’re pretty,” he said, and somehow it made your heart swell. his tone was so genuine, so identical to the way he’d tell you “your shoe’s untied,” or “i can walk you home.” his tone reiterated how you’d never once felt uncomfortable around the boy, not even now as you stood on the verge of a huge decision. it was just eren. there was no hesitation or weirdness. you couldn’t express in words how much you appreciated it, so instead you grinned and hooked you fingers in the waistband of your sleep shorts, slowly sliding them down your legs. 

eren leaned back to give you room. despite wanting you to strip, he couldn’t wait it out, pulling you in by one hand and splaying it in the exact place where your back arches. he buried his nose close to your navel and you careened into him with your hands burying in his hair. “so pretty,” he murmured, exploring your skin. he squeezed at the back of your thighs, and grazed your ass, making eye contact with you for any sign of hesitation before he kneaded the fatty flash in his hand. he groaned into you, forehead on your stomach as he felt as much of you as he could. 

“eren,” you breathed. you didn’t know what you wanted of him or what you wanted to say, but he seemed to understand anyway. he pushed up the bottom of the hoodie to plant kisses just above the waistband of your black panties--he had to keep from focusing on the darkened spot at the bottom of the panties or he’d surely cum in his towel. 

you whined at the kisses and at the way they felt so much and not even close to enough all at once. his breath was hot and lips and tongue wet as they travelled up. impatiently, you unzipped the rest of the hoodie and took it from eren’s grip to let it slide off your arms. he pulled back just enough to look your black panty and bra set clad body up and down with heavy eyes. the way his mouth hung open almost primitively told you he wanted this just as much as you. 

“fuck.” the single word sent vibrations straight down to your cunt. and then he brought you in again to suck at any bit of skin he could reach. he groped at your ass more before moving to your tits, and you took the hint to unclasp your bra. it was gone in a moment, and finally, eren tugged at your hand to bring you down on his lap. he adjusted the towel so that it would cover him without needing a hand but in such a way that the slightest jostle would expose him. you straddled his thighs with a knee bent on either side of the bed, and with his other hand finally free, eren gripped both ass cheeks and pulled you in to lick a long stripe along one of your tits. you couldn’t hold back the moan, practically lurching it forward and letting it burst in his ear. he rutted up into your clothed pussy at the noise. his mouth latched around one nipple and suckled like a starving man, earning more pretty sounds from you as you gripped the hair at his scalp in the most delicious way. he switched to the other breast, hands still spreading your cheeks apart and itching so so close to where you needed him. 

“eren,” you whined. he knew. he could feel the wet spot on his own towel now. 

“mmm...talk to me,” he said into the fat of your chest. “what do you want?” he would hardly restrain himself. his dick practically ached with need, but still his utter adoration at the way your eyes screwed shut was enough to get him to take his time. “whatever you want, i’ll do it.” 

his words alone had you grinding down onto him. “need you...” you said in a too-high voice, mouth close to his ear. eren’s pace didn’t change. still there was an air of expectation. “need you inside me.” you felt him breathe a deep sigh underneath you, and you could swear you felt him twitch in the towel.

“okay. okay, baby.” 

he gently pushed you back, one hand still on your behind to keep you steady, the other one coming to finally move aside his towel. upon seeing his cock spring forward, you couldn’t understand how he could’ve managed to keep it tented under there for so long. 

“oh, god,” you breathed. you rested the crown of your head in the crook of his neck with your head titled down to awe at his blushing tip that leaked precum. he stroked himself a few times.

“you okay?” he asked, voice strained but somehow still soft with concern. you nodded eagerly, shimmying back up his thighs. it took both of your hands and one of his to push your panties to the side and line him up with your sopping entrance. the contact made you both suck in a breath, and eren leaned back just slightly to let you inch your way down whenever you were ready. 

you sunk down painfully slow onto his head, and eren grunted harshly. his hands gripped the sheets behind him to keep from rutting up into you. your hands came forward to seek purchase on his shoulders. how could he feel this good already when you’d barely gotten past the head? he was already nudging oh so gently on your g-spot, and you had to steel yourself for a moment before sinking down with more confidence. you and eren moaned in unison at the sudden movement, and the burning stretch he gave you felt unreal. you were trying to bottom out, and he was trying to be patient, but the way you were sucking at him was pushing his resolve. 

“y/n...” he breathed. you hummed in understanding, and finally, you brought yourself down to touch his thighs to yours. you yelped lightly and leaned into him to take a second. “ah...doing good. take your time, pretty girl.” eren’s arms brought you into an embrace, and the lack of movement allowed him time to stave off his climax and allowed you time to get used to the way he was splitting you open. before long, you were able to wiggle your hips and sway back and forth. eren hummed deeply, helping you pull your hips up before bringing you back down. in a moment, you were doing it all on your own, and he watched how he would disappear over and over again into your leaking hole and the way your tits bounced and your mouth formed an ‘o’. 

“feel good?” he groaned. you whined and nodded, but eren’s hand gripped your jaw lightly. 

“yeah, feels good,” you mumbled airily, concentrating on your movements. eren dragged his thumb over your bottom lip and he couldn’t help himself when he curled it into your mouth and on your tongue. his cock jumped from inside of you when you closed your lips around the digit and began suckling on it needily. 

“ohh, good girl.” the squelching sounds combined with the slapping of skin was nothing short of lewd. you bounced yourself up and down on eren’s dick as best as you could, trying to find the angle that smashed your g-spot every time. the soreness in your thighs slowed your movements every little while, and eren didn’t miss the way you whined for more that you couldn’t give yourself. 

he gripped at your hips to slow you down before he started pistoning up into your with all the stamina he still hadn’t used. you made a noise just short of a scream and collapsed into his broad chest, but eren was quick to wrap you up. “i got you,” he breathed over and over. the sweat collected on his forehead with the effort of his pace. your moans were nonstop now, stringing into one incoherent babble into his ear that he absolutely adored. your stomach grew hotter and hotter until it felt like it would erupt. 

“eren,” you said with urgency. he didn’t need to hear you say it. instead, he brought one hand between the two of you to rub at your clit, and it was all you could take before you practically sobbed into his neck and clenched impossibly tight around him. your arms squeezed him half to death as you saw white, pleasure rippling all over your body in waves. 

“y/n, y/n,” you just barely heard eren muttering. his sloppy movements that he brought to a fumbling pace and the way he nudged at your elbows was enough for you to practically melt off his lap, pulling off his cock only to replace it with your mouth within a moment. you sucked at his tip for not five seconds before eren was jerking into your mouth and emitting broken moans, warm cum shooting into your throat. you suckled at him gently to work him through the high, collecting every drop before cleaning him off. you pulled away carefully, and eren watched as you gulped down his cum before smiling at him. he shook his head in awe. 

“c’mere,” but before you could he was pulling you into his body with one hand. he brought you with him as he let his back hit the mattress. you took a few moments to catch your breaths before either of you spoke. 

“okay?” you asked him. eren reached an arm up to pull down his comforter and fit it messily on top of your naked bodies. his hands came to your waist and wrapped around you as tight as they could. finally, he leaned down to kiss at your hairline a few times before laying back with a sigh.

“okay.”

[chocolateheart]

Door number 12

Title: Door Number 12

Word count: 7937 (I know, I'm sorry)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: A noisy neighbour is bringing you a lot of emotions. What if this bubbling tension and frustration will finally find their way out?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (please, wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, handjob, pinning to the wall, clothes tearing, biting, scratching, a lot of kissing, strong eye contact, sex noises, tension, some swearing, noisy neighbour, arguing, stealing food, property damage, I don't know, porn?

Bingo Square Filled: Neighbour AU for @spnmixedbingo

A/N: Yes, another porn. Please, don't judge me, I couldn't help it. I won't say much, that fic just sorta happened. I hope you'll like it! Enjoy babes!

A/N: As always huge huge huge THANK YOU to my dear beta, angel and Queen @winchest09 for giving this piece a look. Love you Tabbs <3 Still, mistakes are mine!

A/N: The gorgeous divider designed by incredibly talented @talesmaniac89 <3

Throwing your bag on the counter along with your keys, a deep sigh left your chest. You numbly looked around your apartment as you began to take off your jewellery. Why did this place always look like a pigsty every time you got back home? Your necklace and bracelet joined your bag when you tossed them to one side as a yawn escaped you.

This day was exhausting, to say the least. Maybe your work wasn’t that demanding but sometimes it was just tiring to the point where you wanted to cry. After shrugging your jean jacket off, your feet took you to the couch and you just collapsed down on it with a pained grunt. Your body was stiff and aching, your head was pounding from pain and as soon as you felt a pillow under it, your will to stay awake had started to fade. You knew you shouldn’t take a nap now as there was still so much left to do today, but for god's sake, it was Friday evening and you had been working for the past 5 days at top speed. An hour of rest was something you definitely deserved.

Without standing up, you lifted your hips to take off your jeans and wrapped yourself in the blanket you always kept on the couch. Relaxing your body with a deep breath, you closed your eyes, already halfway to dreamland. But as soon as you felt yourself drifting completely, a loud sound of guitar suddenly sounded in your ears, making your eyes snap open.

No, not again!

Fisting the pillow, you felt the anger growing as you knew exactly where the loud rock music was coming from; recognising the band as AC/DC. When the volume increased, you hid your head underneath the pillow, desperate to cut off your aching skull from the noise. But it didn’t work, the sound still bleeding through the cushion. It didn’t take you a minute to shoot up on straight legs and pull on your sweats while marching towards the front door.

Mumbling inappropriate words, you entered the staircase for your building and immediately went down; hearing the power of the music increasing with every step you took. You found yourself on a floor below, with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes glued to door number 12 as you approached it. Once you stood in front of it, you lifted one of your fists and hit the hard on the wood a few times, ready to murder the person on the other side. Of course he made you wait till the song ended, causing you to repeat the punching a couple of times.

When the door finally opened, you were fuming with anger, eyes shooting lightnings towards the tall man on the opposite side of the doorstep.

"I swear to god, Winchester," you hissed through gritted teeth, a loud melody almost muffling your words. "If you won't turn that down, I will physically harm you." Your threatening pulled a laugh from him which only acted as another oil drop to the fire.

"Sweetheart you can't do anything to me," he said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed on this broad chest. "Besides, I don't understand what your problem is." Dean shrugged as if nothing had happened, making your brows shoot up.

"You don't understand?! This music is driving me crazy!" You took a deep breath and while not breaking the strong eye contact you had with him, you started to enlighten him on what exactly was wrong. "I’ve had a terrible day, no, week actually. Everything hurts, my head is pounding and this music is shaking my walls which in turn, is not letting me sleep. So if you could be so nice and turn that off because I swear on what's holy, if I lose my goddamn mind, your name will be the first one I'm gonna mention once they ask me how I ended up in mental hospital." Words just slipped out of you in one unbreakable line and you took shuddering breath after, composing yourself.

However, the smug smirk didn’t leave your neighbour's face; he didn’t give a damn about your monologue. After you finished, he only put a hand on your shoulder and delivered his response.

"It's a Friday evening and we live in a free country. There’s no rule saying I can't listen to loud music, unless it's lights out. What's more, you're the only one who can't stand this, I don't see anyone else coming here to complain, so maybe the problem lies in you, not in me," he simply said, as he flashed you a fake, sarcastic smile and closed the door. But not before saying, "have a nice evening."

You looked up to the ceiling, asking for patience but the frustration and anger were huge. You growled, kicked Winchester's door with your socked foot and cursed, feeling pain going from your toes to the tibial bone.

On your way back to your apartment, you were mumbling out every possible, offensive name that came to your mind when you thought about that green eyed man. Your relationship had been heated ever since he moved into the building. He made your blood boil. Loud music, meetings with his friends, watching movies on full volume on his surround speakers after dark in the middle of the week, noisily cooking at midnight; even his one night stands apparently had an unfulfilled opera career.

You were having a battle with Dean, on average, twice a week. Knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stand his behavior, you asked others for help, but Dean’s charm was way bigger of an opponent than you had expected. He could just use a sweet smile, say a few, flirty words with this deep voice and Ann from the end of the hall would walk on wobbly legs with stupid smile on her face for the next four days.

You couldn’t really blame her, the man was ridiculously attractive but you were looking past it. Dean was an annoying asshole and the only reason you had not yet clawed out his eyes was the fact that visiting the jail wasn’t exactly a wooing thought.

Shutting your door behind you, you leaned against it and ‘Sweet Child O’ mine’ came on. You growled once again, hit your wooden barricade with your head and looked down, trying to find calmness in your floor. Once you stopped radiating fury, knowing that the person below won't let you rest for at least two more hours, you chose the second drawer in your kitchen, searching for painkillers. If you were being made to stay up, you were gonna be productive. Swallowing two aspirin, you decided to clean the place so you could focus on college work tomorrow.

If only you could actually focus on college work.

After waking up at 8 am the next day, you opened the window on your way to the kitchen, craving coffee. It wasn’t normal for you to get up at this hour on the weekend but your finals were coming and you had way more work than you expected.

Thankfully, the weather outside was pleasant; the sun was already shining, creating morning shadows and the soft wind streamed inside your apartment, tickling your ankles as you sat at the table, eating breakfast. The smell of spring made you smile, always bringing back good memories. After the meal, you didn’t bother to change your pajamas for the actual clothes and you just took the laptop to start working on your college sheets. You were sitting with one of your legs bent, heel leaning on the chair, messy bun on your head, sipping on the second coffee while listening to the birds singing happily outside. Words were flooding out of you, making you feel certain that it wouldn’t take you long to be done with your essays. But that blissful moment was cut short when a loud rumble of a car’s engine resonated under your building, causing you to jerk in your chair and almost spill your drink.

Recognizing it straight away, you looked up, trying your best to not get angry again but as the sound of his loud engine revving l continued, you smacked the table with your palm and stood up. As you leaned on your window sill and gazed out, you spotted black, slick Chevrolet with the driver's door, trunk and hood open. Tools were scattered around the vehicle, a jean clothed leg was sticking out from the inside and you greeted your teeth, knowing who that was.

“Hey!” you yelled out, not caring if probably half of the residents could hear you. “I’m trying to study here!”

Dean peeked out and up at you, smiled and got out of the car, leaning his elbow on the hood in a nonchalant way.

“Good morning to you too,” he said and flashed you the oh-so-charming smile.

“It would be good if you didn’t interrupt it with your loud junker,” you spat back, leaning on the window frame and smiled when his face fell; he hated it when someone insulted his Baby, and you were very much aware of that. “Now, could you please lower your generic volume because I have a lot to do and you’re the last thing I want to deal with today.”

“Nobody tells you to. I’m minding my business, you go mind yours, I ain’t stopping you.” He gestured towards you with his grease covered hand.

“No, but your car is making noise that shakes all the dishes in my cabinet.”

He just shrugged and you narrowed your eyes, seeing that he didn’t care about whatever your problem was. “Then I suggest closing the window.”

After saying that, he dived inside the vehicle and seconds later you heard the strong twang of a guitar. Again. This man was very successful in making you hate rock music. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, stopping yourself from throwing a flowerpot at him; only because it was a very nice pot and you were emotionally attached to it.

“I need fresh air! I’m not gonna close the window! Turn that off!” you screamed, but he only frowned and pointed to his ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t hear you!” You could see the smile dancing on his lips and you really wanted to break something on his head. “The music is too loud!”

Clenching your jaw you gave up. Another defeat, but it wasn’t the war you lost; it was just a battle and he was yet to feel your comeback. Showing him your middle finger, you closed the window and went to the bathroom, not being able to hear the soft chuckle that left him.

Maybe to an outsider, Dean’s behavior wasn’t such a big deal, but the longer he acted like that, the more annoying and tiring it was becoming. You couldn’t focus on basic activities because he was giving you a headache in various ways and for some reason, you couldn’t just talk it through with him. Every attempt at trying to get to an understanding with him, ended up with a fight.

Winchester was just a pain in the ass.

Thankfully, he vanished before noon; his car was gone and there was a blissful silence that you made the most of, and finished the majority of what you had to do.

Surrounded by papers and books, you were sitting down on your fluffy carpet, leaning back on your couch, typing away on your laptop. Glancing at your clock again, you frowned. It’s been almost 85 minutes since you ordered pizza; your stomach was rumbling, unhappy with the fact of still being empty. Finding your phone, you dialed the pizza parlor’s number once again. Standing up, you stretched your muscles and looked outside, watching the sunset sky as you waited for someone to pick up. Finally, the lady’s voice spoke to you down the line, asking you how she could help.

“Hi, I made an order from you and I still haven’t received it? It’s been over an hour,” you explained politely, scratching the back of your head.

You didn’t like situations like that; delay was understandable, but it had been way too long. However, you hated to call someone out, you never wanted to make someone’s job harder than it already was. Giving your address to the lady so she could check where your food was, you spotted the black vehicle under the building and your brows shot up. He was home and it was still quiet; it wasn’t normal.

“Miss, the system says your order was delivered and we have a confirmation of receipt.” You frowned hearing her words as what she said was impossible.

“Are you sure? There was no delivery here.”

“Yes, I’m positive. It says someone picked up the order twenty minutes ago.” Pinching your nose, you took a deep breath.

“Could you check the address precisely, please? Maybe your driver made a mistake?” you suggested being already sure someone else got your food.

“Rosenhouse Street, building 4, apartment 12,” she read and the last number made you flinch.

“Apartment 20,” you corrected her, but she denied.

“No Miss, the order was picked up by apartment 12.” And just like that the level of your anger reached three digits in a second.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you murmured and disconnected the call without a goodbye, already storming halfway across your place, getting ready to leave.

Slamming the door, you took a very well known path downstairs and you banged on number 12 as soon as you stood in front of it. Feeling the urge to punch the person who was supposed to open, you inhaled deeply, clenching your teeth. Just... keep it cool, Y/N.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you growled the second Dean came into your view in his domestic clothes, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Whoa, what?” he tilted his head with an uncomprehending look.

“Listen,” you pointed a finger at him. “Loud noises, annoying car, your mean behavior, fine, okay. Screw it. But stealing food? That is childish. Can you go any lower?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he said with a smile dancing on his lips. “What food?”

“My pizza,” you muttered through your teeth.

“Oh, right!” He smacked his forehead, acting like he just now understood. “Yeah, pizza was great.”

“You stole it!” you exclaimed, a little too high pitched.

“No I didn’t,” Dean stated, giving you a small, I-know-better smile.

“Yes, you did. I ordered it and you just pocketed it!” You really wanted to stamp your foot like a little girl to tick your fury.

"No sweetheart, I didn’t," he said, crossing his arms and straightening his back so he could tower over you, making you look up. "The guy came in with pizza, said he's supposed to bring it here, so I paid for it and ate it."

"Oh! Because it's normal to pay for the food you didn’t order and keep it to yourself. And stop calling me sweetheart!" You puffed out irritated, making him smirk.

"You're cute when you're angry." Your face fell and you felt your palm itching. What would he do if you slapped him?

"Dean," you warned him but he chuckled.

"No, seriously." He reached to your forehead, wanting to brush it with his finger. "You have this cute, little wrinkle in the middle-"

"Don't touch me." You smacked his hand away and pointed a warning finger straight into his face. "One more action like this and you're gonna regret it," you growled out and walked away.

"So it's threatening now, huh?!" he called after you, coming out to stand in the hall.

Before you stepped on the stairs, you turned around with such a force, that your hair flipped over one of your shoulders and you showed him your middle finger. Hearing his low laugh bouncing on the wall, you scoffed annoyed as you stomped loudly going back upstairs. You swore that if you were supposed to become a murderer one day, that this man was gonna be victim number one. This whole 'lets annoy her' process would be great fuel for you to slice that slender throat of his.

Shutting the door again, you walked into the kitchen, dived in the fridge and decided to stuff yourself with pancakes. Screw Dean and his pizza, you were not going to give him satisfaction with ordering anything else tonight.

“So, he’s a confident man,” Jo stated after you told her about Winchester’s behavior.

You came to Harvelle's to grab something for Sunday dinner; they had the most delicious menu in the whole town and no one could change your mind. You were sitting with a blonde girl at the table, outside their restaurant, sipping on some light drinks Ellen had prepared for the two of you. Ash was already working on your meal in the kitchen while Jo was taking her break so she could sit with you and listen about your neighbour under the floor. It took you way longer to describe everything and you felt kind of bad for that. You weren’t the type who whined about such things and forced friends to hear about your bullshit, but now you were desperate to get it all off your chest.

“Confident asshole,” you corrected her, “I just wish he could finally get his ass kicked, you know? I can’t live with this man! He’s an arrogant, offensive, little, annoying dickhead!” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked up at Jo. She was watching you, clearly trying not to smile; her lips were twitching and small dimples had already appeared. You knew her long enough to know that she was all ready to tease you about this whole situation.

“What?” you barked at her and she lifted her hands in defense.

“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Just, your relationship with him seems to have been… rough since the very beginning.”

“It is! I really wanna punch him!” Jo lifted her brows, a smile breaking on her face.

“Just punch him?” The suggestion was shining in her eyes and your shoulders fell down at the subtext.

“Jo!” she started giggling when she heard your resigned tone. “Just because I’m having a heated exchange with a hot guy doesn’t mean that I wanna fuck him!”

“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” she asked innocently, taking a sip from her glass.

“Yes, but he’s an idiot and I would never let him in my panties, come on,” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. The last thing you would ever do was having sex with this man.

“Sure.”

And you knew Jo didn’t believe you. To be honest, if you thought about it really, really hard, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself…

The door opened and Ash came out with a smile, your food packed in a thermal box.

“There you go, girl. We do not accept any complaints,” he said, winking at you and you chuckled, taking the meal from him.

“Thanks, Ash.” He saluted you and vanished as quickly as he appeared. You glanced at your phone laying on the table and sighed seeing the time. “Okay babe, I’m gonna go. School’s calling and I bothered you enough anyway.”

“Oh stop it, you’re not bothering me, don’t be stupid,” she said smiling, and hugged you tight. “Text me when you get home.”

“Sure thing.” You winked and walked backwards, watching her disappear inside the RoadHouse.

Smiling to yourself, you turned around and crossed the street. At first your thoughts were filled with Jo who could always put you in a good mood but then they gradually transitioned into someone else.

You didn’t know if it was your overworked system or what Jo had teased you about that caused Dean to stick inside your mind, but you wanted to scream; it was like he had nested in there. Not only was he disturbing your living space, but he was now invading your mental space as well. What’s more, it wasn’t exactly hard to not think about him in a nasty way, and you hated it. The truth was that he was attractive from his fluffy hair to his toes, and more than once you had caught yourself daydreaming about his hands and mouth on you.

You couldn’t help it. The way he looked was not fair and Jo made you realise that if not for his attitude, you would have slept with him a long time ago. Thankfully, in the moments you felt weakness for him, he was doing something that pissed you off to the point where you wanted to bite his head off.

You really wanted to get even with him, you had to bounce the ball. The need to bite back was so big that you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the paint store. The bulb in your head flickered on and a devil smile angled your lips. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it was childish, maybe it was crossing the line, but you had suffered enough thanks to this jerk.

Buying one can of pink chalk paint, you were muting your common sense that was currently shouting at you. As the saying goes - you only live once. He wanted a fight? You were going to fight. He started to play a strong hand? You were going to do the same. He thought playing with you like that was fun? Well, you were gonna have some fun too. Besides, he wouldn’t realise immediately that the paint would easily wash off, but seeing him panic thinking that his car had been defaced was revenge enough.

With a few last strokes of a paintbrush, you were finished. Straightening your back, you looked down at your work and smiled, satisfied with pink flowers you had drawn on the black surface. They were a nice contrast and you really liked the shape. In all honesty, it kinda burned you to paint this four wheeled beauty, but it wasn’t your fault her owner was a douchebag who deserved a lesson.

The impala was parked in her usual spot, next to the building that was mostly asleep. There were no cameras and due to the late hour, the chance of someone spotting you was small. Besides, you were just a hooded figure, no one would recognise you anyway even with the dim light from a lonely lantern. It was risky, but you were too far gone in your revenge to care. It had been done and you wished you could see Dean’s face in the morning.

Gathering your things you looked around, checking to see if there was anyone you should avoid and you got back to your apartment. After closing the door, you took off your clothes, staying only in leggings and a t-shirt, and decided to make some tea. You had this weird energy bubbling inside of you and it would be a waste to not use it on college papers. Getting comfortable on your couch you started going through materials for one of your projects.

Not expecting any visitors, you jumped slightly while hearing a rapid knocking on your door an hour later. You frowned and stood up, finishing your tea on your way to the entry. What you saw on the other side almost made you smile like an idiot. Dean was boring into you with his eyes; if looks could kill, you would surely be a beautiful corpse by now. His chest was rising and falling heavily, jaw clenched to the point his cheek was twitching and you could see the slight blush coloring on his face. He was wearing his leather jacket but was also in sweats so you assumed he was about to make a quick grocery run or something.

“What the hell?!” he growled at you before you could say a word. Ohhh, he was angry.

“What?” You shrugged innocently, ignoring the weird chill that ran down your spine after hearing the vibrations of his tone.

Dean took a deep breath, doing his best to not shout out. “I wanted to go get some beer and burgers, but guess what. Someone screwed up my car. And you know what? I think it was you.”

He pointed a finger at you, holding keys in his hand. You laughed and leaned on your doorframe, ready to confront him. Satisfaction already tickled your insides, but there was one thing that you had to admit - he was hot when he was angry.

“You really think that I have nothing better to do than mess up your car?” you asked, amused by his flaring nostrils.

"Don't you fucking dare play with me like that," he said firmly, not wanting to yell. "Do you know it's property damage? You broke a law and I can easily get you in trouble."

He was fuming with anger and you were sure that if it was possible, there would be smoke coming out of his ears. You smiled and stood your ground, finding it adorable how he thought he had anything useful against you.

"You have nothing on me. No proof that I was the one who defaced your car," you started, taking two steps to stand inches away from him. "Call the cops and I'm gonna tell them all about the nuisance, the stealing, manipulation and manifestations of aggression all coming from you.”

You stared straight into his eyes, a smart smile not leaving you even for a second; feeling confident in your words. Maybe he had a point, but you weren’t empty handed. You could get punished for what you did and so could he.

“What is your problem, Y/N?!” he asked, pinching his nose, clearly irritated with you. “You keep whining, making problems out of nothing and now painting my damn car?”

“You’re not letting me live in peace!” you raised your voice. “Your loud music, loud car, loud tv, loud you in general! I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t do anything because you’re always there to disturb me!”

“Then leave!” he suggested, raising his tone as well. You were taken aback; lifting your brows you blinked a few times. Was he joking?

“Leave?! Are you kidding me now?! This is my home and just a friendly reminder, I was in here first so maybe you should back off!”

“But you’re the only one having a problem with me!” he yelled, spreading his arms, highlighting the obviousness of his argument.

“Because you’re a manipulative ass! You use your charm, this fucking smile, your shining eyes, and nice language, and the whole building is yours! Even Ian from the 4th floor and he doesn't even like people!”

“Ian is a cool guy!”

“Good!”

You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something more but no words came out. Again, you were convinced that there was no way to come to an agreement with this guy. Further arguments were pointless. Looking at him you shook your head and brushed your hair to the back. The soft smile and look you gave him next, made him frown a little.

“You know what? Fuck you,” you said simply and went to close the door, but his retort didn’t let you.

“You wish.”

Freezing, you locked your eyes with his and in a split second, something shifted in the air. The atmosphere got thick and the tension you had been building for months, now came into play, kinda taking you both by surprise. Dean felt it too, you could see his expression changing. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was buzzing between you. A part of you wanted to explain it, to show him that you already knew it was sexual tension saying ‘hi’, but as soon as you realised that, you swallowed and forced your rational mask back on.

Shaking off the urge to take steps towards him, you scoffed and sending him one last look, you shut the door without saying anything. Taking two deep breaths, you leaned your forehead on the wooden barricade and closed your eyes.

There was no way in hell you would give in and break. He had everyone else in his fist, but not you. The only person that didn’t fall under his spell, the only one that didn’t let your craving inside take better of you. Dean was still your enemy and a pain in the ass; it was a matter of honour and dignity to stay away.

However, soft knocking made your eyes snap open. No. Darting your head from the door you looked at it, knowing who was behind it but that didn’t even register when you pulled on the door-handle. Dean was supporting his body on his arms that he had placed on both sides of your door, blocking the way. He was looking at you intensely, his breathing quicker than moments ago.

You could see the exact second he made a decision. You knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t and yet, you let him close the gap between you and crush his mouth to yours, cupping your cheeks at the same time. The force he hit you with made you take steps backwards, encouraging him to come in and turn you around so you could unconsciously close the door. His grip was firm, long fingers digging in your neck as hot lips forced yours apart. But your stubbornness caused you to push him away, breaking the connection.

The look you exchanged was a mix of emotions; hate, passion, frustration, lust, confusion, hesitation. This was something completely new for you; needing him was unfamiliar, strange, but at the same time stronger than anything you had felt before when it came to Dean. There was this quiet voice telling you that it was already too late; you tasted it and you wanted it, obviously. The other voice was louder, trying to make you aware of how messed up it's gonna be after, but somehow you didn’t want to listen. Not this time.

"Fuck it."

Saying that, you approached Dean and gripping him by the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and deep, all teeth and tongues. He inhaled through his nose, bending down when your nails clawed at his skin. Grabbing you by the waist, he used a little pressure so you walked backwards. You didn’t expect to be pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp escaped you when your back hit it. Looking up at Dean, you noticed how his hungry eyes flickered over your figure and a cocky smirk formed on his face. You mirrored his expression and lifted your chin, so you could suck in his lower lip, biting on it softly. His response was immediate and fierce; he pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall completely, kissing you even deeper than before. The heat flooded you, making your cheeks burn and a sweat break.

You moaned and that seemed to spur him on because his hands started travelling all over your body. Doing the same, you aimed for his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders so it could land on the floor. The thought of finally discovering what was under his clothes took over your brain and you started to pull on his t-shirt, hazed and eager. But Dean grabbed your wrist and pinned it next to your head, not letting you undress him. You twisted and tugged, trying to break free, but he slid his fingers between yours and you instinctively clenched your palm.

“Don’t fight,” he breathed out, leaving your lips as he dropped to your neck, letting you take a much needed breath.

Leaning your head back you gave him the access to your throat where he licked and sucked, french-kissing your flesh. Your knees buckled a little when his hot lips closed on your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine as his stubble prickled you. Feeling his second hand sneaking under your shirt, you held your breath and jerked on the skin to skin contact. He wasn’t delicate; his long fingers were squeezing and digging, a firm touch making it all the more intense. Using your free hand you fisted his hair, pulling on it. Dean purred, nibbling on your flesh, making your eyes roll. It was like playing tennis, back and forth; you had an answer to each other's movements.

The hunger inside you was growing fast; you were getting more and more impatient and being caged by Dean only made you feel limited. So, naturally, you rebelled, trying to take control; with Dean it was always a competition. But your attempt only caused him to press his body more, his knee coming between your legs, making it harder for you to move. The thin material of your leggings was a weak protection to his touch and you whined when your sensitive area met his thigh. Fidgeting even more, you made him chuckle.

“Stop fighting,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

Growling, you turned your head and sunk your teeth into his neck, tasting sweet and salty. Dean hissed and backed away, looking down at you with a surprise in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and angled yourself to speak against his lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t like a fight, Winchester.”

The suggestion was clear and he seemed to understand. Your relationship was already a ticking bomb so why not have a little fun?

The challenging look you gave him was a last jolt and his mode switched. Before you could do anything, he kissed you firmly, letting go of you just to grab on the front of your shirt. Pulling with two hands Dean ripped the fabric in half, revealing your torso, making you smile a devil’s smile. He shook his head in disbelief that you were actually going along with it and grinning, he attacked your jaw. Scraping it with his teeth first, then kissing and going down passed your neck, to your collarbone. Bending his knees so he could reach lower and lower, he proceeded to shrug the destroyed clothing off you and focus on your breasts. Placing sloppy kisses on the curves, Dean moved his hands on your back and unclasped your bra. As soon as it was gone, he sucked in one of your nipples, causing you to arch your chest. Pulling his hair, you grabbed the back of his head, letting him know you enjoyed his work.

Every time his lips touched you, they left burning spots and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Not holding back anymore, you started to roll your hips, seeking the friction his leg could give you. Still playing with your boobs, he caught your hips and added the power to your moves, dragging a moan from you. Glancing down, you spotted the bulge in his sweatpants and realised he was still wearing too much clothes.

“Take that fucking shirt off,” you panted out, grabbing on the piece of clothing on his back.

This time he allowed you to do what you needed, lifting his arms to make your task easier and the second his chest was bare, you used your nails to leave red lines, making him grimace from pain before he kissed you. Caressing his newly exposed body, you felt firm muscles of his strong arms flexing. He wasn’t a gym type of guy, he was soft in some places but firm and strong in general, and that turned you on to the point your stomach flipped.

Suddenly, he pushed on your hips until your butt touched the wall behind you and pulled away from you, straightening himself. You looked at each other, panting and flinching in anticipation. Keeping the eye contact, Dean cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips and slowly slid his hands down your body. You swallowed hard when he hooked his fingers behind your waistband and pulled your leggings down, crouching in front of you.

With a thumping heart you looked down at him, meeting his dark eyes watching you as he kissed your knee, your thigh, your inner thigh; his hands travelling up your legs, leaving goosebumps. You shivered when his hot breath hit your still clothed core. He placed a kiss on your damp panties, making your pussy clench and stopped. Leaning his forehead on your lower stomach, he tried to remain self-control, breathing strongly to calm himself down... and he failed. This whole situation was too much and he had wanted it for way too long to stop now.

Shooting up, he claimed your lips, driving his fingers inside your briefs at the same time. His digits went through your folds, gathering slick and found your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Yeah? Right here?” he whispered and you sucked the air in through your mouth when he drew a circle, pressing harshly on your little nub.

Feeling him smiling, you clung to his neck, keeping him close when he started to make circles on your button. Moaning laughs escaped you, mixed with short breaths as you felt fire filling your veins, tickling sparks running from your clit to every nook of your system. For a moment you lost yourself in the feeling, but your brain woke up when he nudged you, rubbing his dick on your leg.

Opening your eyes, you locked them with his, tracing your palm down his chest and stomach. Somehow, you managed to turn you both around so he was by the wall. You didn’t care about teasing him through his pants so you pushed your hand inside and grabbed his hard shaft. Dean jerked and choked on his breath; the whole foreplay made him ridiculously sensitive.

You smiled satisfied and began to pump him, making his head fall back on the wall. His exposed neck was shining with sweat, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Your biting kink was begging for you to bite him, but the view was too good to not watch. His breathing quickened along with your strokes, his jaw flexing when he opened his mouth to chug. A thick vein popped out on the side of his neck, a guttural whine coming from him when you rubbed your thumb on his tip. Finally, you gave in and closed your lips on his jaw, light stubble pricking your lips. Dean turned his head and palming yours he brought you in for a kiss but you broke it fast, having enough.

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.

Not being able to stay away from each other, you stumbled towards the room, kissing and laughing, getting rid of the rest of the clothes on your way. Hitting the bed you let yourself fall on it, pulling Dean behind you. He hovered above you, using his tongue to play with your nipples as you both climbed up to the headboard. Adjusting the pillows beneath you, you felt his body pressing down, arms sneaking under yours as he kissed you deeply. Rolling his hips, he drove his cock between your folds, poking your clit and you automatically lifted your lower body up on your heels, feeling the electricity running through you. Dean bit down on your lip and pulled on it hard with his teeth, smiling when you hissed.

Without thinking much you just reached between your bodies and guided his cock to your entrance, making him freeze. The look he gave you was a mashup of a question and disbelief, and all it took was your evil smirk. You felt him fisting the sheets under you and with one, mild thrust he slid inside of you. Arching your back you inhaled, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He was stretching you; your walls fluttered around him when he bottomed out, making the two of you give silent moans, your voices stuck in your throats from intensity.

Watching you, he began to move, making you both more and more comfortable with the feeling. Gradually, his pace increased and so did the noises. Your breathy moans and growls filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin as Dean's hips waved between your thighs, faster and faster. New layers of sweat covered your bodies as the temperature increased; you felt the omnipresent, pleasurable burning.

Dean kept the rhythm, only stopping for just for a moment to kiss you. Not letting the opportunity pass, you pushed on him and flipped over so you were on top. Looking at you with a smirk, he palmed your asscheeks as you sinked down on him, continuing the activity.

The passion and sensuality made your head spin; Dean’s lustful eyes devouring you alive weren’t helping. You dragged your nails on his flesh again, making him hiss between the sounds. It wasn’t easy to breathe, to think or control yourself; your body started working by itself, speeding up, making you bounce on him while leaning your hands on his chest for support. Dean couldn’t decide where to touch, what part of you he should grab next; his hands were everywhere. Wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck he sat up, changing the angle and gave you this eye-rolling kiss. This asshole knew what he was doing.

A new position allowed you to only roll your hips and you laid back, grabbing Dean’s ankle to make your moves more fluent. He took a handful of your ass, helping you, watching himself sliding in and out of you, growling in pleasure. Tangled together you moved in sync, matching the other’s moves, grinding to empower the sensation. Feeling the coil tightening in your stomach, your head hung back and you exhaled, wailing quietly. A hand flattened on your back and Dean violently pulled you up, pressing your forehead to his. With closed eyes, panting against each other's mouth you chased both of your deliriums. Your pussy fluttered, your nails dug into his neck as you clasped it; the feeling started to overwhelm. The way Dean was moaning and clinging to you made it clear that he felt the same.

Your strength was fading and you found yourself slowing down. Dean’s attempts to continue were in vain as he was becoming weak too, exhaustion and his upcoming release taking over him.

“Y/N,” he warned you and you opened your eyes, looking at him when he reached between you. “I’m gonna-” you kissed him, cutting him off, tugging on his lip with your teeth.

“Stay inside,” you whispered, watching the surprise flash through his features.

The serious, assuring look on your face made his eyes roll back and the noise he made, clamped your stomach. Using your last strands of your power, you sped up, Dean joining you by hitting the right spot inside you. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing on it fast and you moaned loudly, feeling your muscles tightening.

A few more strokes, a few more moves and the crushing wave of pleasure hit you; your inner walls pulsated, squeezing Dean’s cock as you grabbed firmly on his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts went more erratic but also were more powerful; he was pounding inside you slow but hard, putting his forehead between your breasts. You were shaking and his breath fanning over your tummy only added more goosebumps.

Then you felt his arms wrapping around you and he hugged you tight. Pulling you close, Dean thrusted for the last time and with a low, throaty groan he stilled; his cock throbbing inside you, allowing you to milk him as you were still coming. The two of you were shivering, entwined in each other, panting and sweaty. Your heart was hammering and you could feel Dean’s galloping as well.

After calming down a bit, he let go of you and fell back on the bed, hitting the pillows with a sigh. Licking your lips, you looked down at him and smiled, seeing his eyes sparkling with joy and bliss. He laughed, caressing your thighs and then pulled you down for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, without tongue, just lips brushing yours; completely different then those earlier.

Oh, so he could be gentle too.

Cupping his face, you pecked his mouth a few times and then rolled off of him, standing up to make a quick run to your bathroom to clean yourself, leaving the door open.

"Hey!" you heard him yelling not even two minutes later, after you splashed your face with cold water. "Is it weird that I wanna cuddle?!"

You smiled on his words, shaking your head. Asshole also appeared to be a softie cuddler. Can this evening be any weirder?

"Yes!" you yelled back, laughing as you put down the cloth you were using to dry yourself.

"Cool!" he announced and then changed his tone, "I don't care."

Chuckling, you turned the light off on your way out and grabbed a random, oversized t-shirt from your drawer to put it on, letting it slip from one of your shoulders. Dean was making himself comfy in your bed, watching you carefully with his arm under his head and a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" you asked as you climbed on the bed, joining him under the covers.

"Nothing," he shrugged and shifted so you could fit in, resting your head on his chest.

Throwing your arm over his middle, you hugged him as his fingers came to trace the skin on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over you as you cuddled, enjoying the warmth, but you knew his mind was running, just like yours.

You didn’t like this tendency of yours to overthink, but the current situation was not only unexpected but also confusing. What now? Lovers? Relationship? Friends with benefits? Enemies with benefits? Because, you had to stay honest, if he did something that would piss you off, no matter how good he was in bed, you would still punch his perfect nose.

"I'm sorry." His words surprised you, detaching you from your thoughts. "For being a noisy neighbour."

You could hear the genuine guilt in his voice and that immediately made you feel like a bitch, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

"I'm sorry for screwing up your car," you mumbled and quickly regretted it.

"Ha! So it was you!" His victory voice made your eyes roll and you poked his side, annoyed by the fact he dragged a confession from you so easily.

"But if it makes you feel any better, the paint is made of chalk so it’ll easily wash off," you said, unable to help the silly smile that spread across your face when you saw the relieved but shocked expression that he wore.

“Well played,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling under your ear which you found oddly comforting. So you snuggled more, melting into the intimacy.

You had to look the truth straight into the eye; maybe he did infuriate you like no other but there was something else. A pull, an urge to blow off the constant steam forming between you. You wanted him and something was telling you that from now on you won't be knocking on door number 12 just to fuss about loud music.

And once Jo finds out, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback. ASKs and DMs are open, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3

Tag list is open! :)

If something is not working, you weren’t on the tag list even if you wanted to, you can’t send an ask or you didn’t receive the notification about me tagging you in any of my fics, please contact me in DM’s.

Tag list: @deanwanddamons @jay-and-dean @katehuntington @winchest09 @talesmaniac89 @roonyxx @bunkerconfessions @akshi8278 @snffbeebee @lady-pswrld @rvgrsbrns​ @polina-93 @teresa-67 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @mrspeacem1nusone @flamencodiva @cutiecowgirl @waywardbaby @flashxspn @lyarr24

[homesickturner]

Hi hun! I was wondering if you could write a JJ Maybank x fem!reader where the reader is very shy and also very oblivious to when she’s being flirted with, so whenever JJ tries to flirt with her she gets all shy but is also confused about why he’s saying all these nice things to her :)

Secrets Unfold ; JJ Maybank

I adore this so much omg !! So sorry it took so long, I hope you enjoy !

You’d always been solo at every party. Unlike your friends Sarah and Kiara, who went through different guys all the time. You just weren’t into it. It wasn’t that people didn’t want to date you, it was the opposite.

Everyone on the island knew of you and your kind nature. You were always the one that would help your friends with advice, you even volunteered with Kiara cleaning the beach every weekend. You saw a positive side to everything, and you had an infectious smile.

But, you liked being able to do what you liked, and if you were honest, the prospect of a relationship scared you.

You were sitting with your friends in the wreck, the teen favorite meetup of the Outer Banks. There was you, Sarah, John B, Kiara, Pope and JJ. You were all laughing and joking together, and it was just a normal Saturday night.

“I love the way your dressed tonight Y/n, I like that color on you,” JJ complimented you, earning an odd giggle from John B, that confused you.

“Aw thank you so much JJ. Is that a new shirt?,” you wondered, your arms reaching over to flatten the collar.

“Yea- err no it’s not,” he coughed slightly. “Let me get you another drink, yeah?,” he asked, his head nodding to the cocktail you had just finished.

“T-That would be great,” you smiled, and he headed up to the bar.

As soon as JJ was out of earshot, the other four occupants of the table where releasing all the laughter they been holding in.

The more you went over it in your head, the more that JJ’s comments weren’t making any sense.

“Is he…in a good mood or something,” you wondered, earning some odd looks from the gang.

“He’s not usually this nice,” your brows furrowed, trying to figure him out. “Did I do something wrong or something?.”

“No no y/n you didn’t!,” Sarah reassured you.

You couldn’t understand why everyone was in such a weird mood, you knew it had something to do with you, you just didn’t know what.

JJ soon arrived back at your table with your cocktail.

He’d showered you with little compliments all night, and you just couldn’t comprehend why he was going out of his way to be nice to you.

The night eventually came to a close, and everyone said their goodbyes. You were about to walk home until JJ, who was climbing into the twinkie with JJ and Sarah, stopped you.

“Y/n, why don’t you come with us. It’s late and it’s dark.”

“Are you guys sure? I don’t want to be a burden,” your mouth curved into a smile. “Now that I think about it, I am frozen out here.”

The chorus of get in’s from inside the van made you giggle as you ran over and climbed in, sandwiched between Sarah and JJ, John B in the drivers seat.

You moved around in the confined space, attempting to make yourself as comfortable as you could be for your drive to John B’s.

“What time is it Sarah?,” you asked, she pressed a button on her smartphone and 2:19 flashed on the screen.

You nodded, almost to yourself, as none of you could see each other in the darkness, apart from when you drove past a streetlight, and your bodies would be illuminated in the darkness.

The car was relatively silent for the whole drive, the alcohol draining from everyone’s systems as the slowly became more sober with every meter driven.

No one made any effort to speak to one another, and rather quietly enjoyed the middle of the night bliss.

Eventually, the Twinkie finally pulled into John B’s driveway. Everyone managed to get out successfully, apart from yourself. The alcohol obviously still floating around.

“Woah there cowgirl. Someone had too many cocktails,” JJ flashed you a lopsided grin, as you tried your absolute hardest to stand on your own two feet.

“I’m…fine JJ. Besides, my nights only just started,” you giggled as your eyes sparked with alcohol given euphoria.

You used JJ something to lean on, or rather fall on as you clambered into John B’s guest bedroom.

“I…don’t mind if you sleep with me or on the floor,” you slurred, falling into the centre of the bed.

“Well if you don’t mind,” JJ grinned sheepishly.

You both climbed into the bed, the nights antics finally creeping up on your energy.

“Thank you for being nice tonight.”

“Nice….you thought I was just being nice,” you watched his head move, his face inches from your own.

“Yeah, your not usually,” your moth spread into a grin. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

He took a deep breath, as if preparing for something.

“I wasn’t just being nice…..I was trying to tell you that I liked you.”

“Y-you do,” you gasped, bringing your hand between the two of you, covering your face.

“Yeah, yeah of course I do! What took you so long.”

@goldenroutledge @mentalpolaroids @msgorillagripcoochie @pogueslandia @baby-bearie

[plsimsuchasimp]

cheating.

part 2 here

Ft: Suna Rintarou x !gn reader, a little bit of atsumu miya x !gn reader

Genre/warnings: one (1) curse word, cheating, brief implied sex, angst, hurt/comfort, fighting

Wc: 1.8k

NOT PROOFREAD!

a/n: i’m so sorry for this angst but i had to do it for y’all... didn’t have it in me to write a happy ending, maybe later.

The rain was pouring down, clattering against the roof of the gym. You, sitting against the wall in a corner by the benches, watched Suna’s team play, smiling slightly at the way they seemed to seamlessly move together. Your boyfriend looked concentrated, green eyes flickering from one player to another. 

His phone buzzed beside you, and you picked it up, intending to set it to Do Not Disturb so you could do work, but the notification caught your eye. 

“Hey!” It read, “it was so good to meet you >;) you made me feel good <3″

Instantly, your heart drops into your stomach. Silently willing for the notification to disappear, your eyes cling to the screen as yet another popped up. “I miss you babe, we should do that again”

Your eyes begin to burn, trying to deny the obvious truth of what you saw in front of you. Suna Rintarou had cheated on you, and from the looks of it, with a stranger. You swallow, hard, as the lump in your throat grows and tears begin to form in your eyes. No wonder he’d been overly affectionate in the past week, he probably felt guilty.

What hurt most wasn’t that he didn’t tell you, pretended that everything was fine; no, it was the realization that you just weren’t enough for him. All the time you’d spent on him, everything you’d done, the words of confirmation and the countless amount of love and affection you’d given him, it all wasn’t good enough. 

You were bad enough for him to seek loving in a stranger’s arms.

Clicking the phone off, you put it down and stared into space for a moment, fighting the tears that threatened to spill onto your cheeks at any second. Practice was wrapping up, and you couldn’t face Suna right now. Luckily for you, he was on cleanup duty this week, so he had to stay late. 

Trying to shake the rigidity out of your limbs, you gathered your things and stuffed them into your bag, not taking the time to organize them so they all fit. Head down, you headed for the door, hoping that Suna wouldn’t look over. Opening the door, you were faced with another harsh realization: It was raining and Suna was supposed to drive you home. That wasn’t happening today, for sure. Glancing around, you spotted Atsumu pulling his umbrella out of his bag, and rushed over to him.

“Hey Atsumu,” you said, attempting to keep your voice steady, “Can I catch a ride with you?” He was going to ask why, when Suna had a perfectly good car, but then he caught a glimpse of the tear streaking silently down your face and decided it might be better to wait until later.

Unusually serious, he agreed and put a comforting hand on the small of your back as you two hurried out of the door under his umbrella. Opening his car door for you, he let you in and then went over to the driver’s side, sliding in and turning on the car so it would warm up. 

Stealing the occasional look at you, he noticed you were shaking and turned up the heat in the car although he was warm from volleyball practice. He started driving, sensing that you didn’t want to talk. Jaw clenched, he drove in silence for a couple minutes, then dared to speak.

“Hey, are you okay?” Hearing sniffles from your side of the car and seeing your shoulders shake, he pulled over to the side of the road and put the car in park. Gulping, he awkwardly reached out a hand to pat you on the back, but this only made you cry harder.

Looking up to face him, tear streaks staining your cheeks, you tried to stop shivering from shock. “S-Suna,” you mumbled, fighting to keep your voice from completely breaking, but another sob escaped before you could get anything more out.

“Wha’? Suna what?” he prodded, brow furrowing in concern. You rarely cried, so he knew this was something really serious.

“Suna c-cheated on me.” The last couple of words were whispered, your voice breaking, and Atsumu’s mouth dropped open. Of all the things he’d expected to hear, it wasn’t that. Your relationship with Suna had always seemed perfect. He’d seen the way Suna looked at you, his eyes soft, seen the way his behavior changed around you, seen his eyes light up whenever you smiled. This wasn’t possible.

He opened his mouth, shutting it again when words failed him. You were hunched in the passenger’s seat, shaking so hard he could hear your elbows accidentally hitting the car door. Without a second thought, he took his sweatshirt off and covered you with it, hoping that it would warm you up at least a little bit. 

“I- I’m so sorry,” he muttered, unsure how to comfort a clearly distraught you. As soon as your shudders subsided, his mind turned to Suna and what he would do next time he saw him. No doubt he deserved to be beat up for what he did to you, hurting you like that, but it just didn’t make sense. Suna was totally in love with you, and it was obvious to any outsider. 

He started the car again, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your shoulder, trying to calm you down. “Y/N, I’m gonna drop ya off at home, okay?”

A quick nod from you reassured him, and you two drove with just the raindrops crashing down on the roof of the car. When you arrived at your house, you made a motion to give back his sweatshirt, but he just waved a hand and said “Don’t worry about it. Ya can return it to me when I next see ya.” Your lips trembled and you turned away from him, making the way to your door and letting yourself in. He didn’t leave until he saw that you were inside, then started driving back to the gym.

You shed your jacket and turned on the heater in your house, not bothering to turn on the lights or draw the curtains. Kicking your shoes off, you crawled into bed and under your blanket and let the tears come, hugging the pillow that smelled too much like Suna.

Meanwhile at the gym, Suna was just finishing up and wondering where you’d gone to. The guilt of his mistake still hung with him, and he was looking to take you out to dinner tonight and spend some more time with you. However, when he saw his phone laying faceup, the bold words in text still plainly on the screen, he knew that you’d found out, and his heart contracted. Sinking to his knees, he struggled to breathe through the upcoming panic. He was in love with you, and he had no idea what had possessed him to fall into someone else’s arms for the night.

The feeling surged when he remembered that one of your biggest fears/insecurities was not being good enough, and a short gasp fell out of his mouth as he realized just how much he’d messed up. The gym door swung open, banging against the wall with the sheer force of the push. There stood Miya Atsumu, a murderous expression on his face.

“Suna!” He barked, and the middle blocker glanced up briefly before returning his attention to the phone clutched in his hands, frantically pressing the call button as it once again went straight to voicemail. The sound of your voice was almost too much for him to bear, his breathing accelerating and his head pounding. 

y/n please pick up please i’m so sorry i swear i didn’t mean it they mean nothing to me i love you i love you so much please don’t leave me

His fingers speed across the keyboard, hoping against hope that you’ll talk to him. Any sort of contact. The phone is suddenly knocked from his hand by Atsumu, the look on his face nothing short of furious. 

“What the fuck were ya thinking?” He spits, rage evident in the bulging veins of his neck. “You hurt y/n so badly that they had to drive home with me rather than face another second of ya.”

His words stung Suna, because they both knew they were true. He doesn’t resist when Atsumu pulls him to his feet, glaring at him and shoving him towards the wall. 

“You’re pathetic. Y/N is the best person ya will ever meet, and ya ruined it all.” Once again, Suna doesn’t reciprocate, his eyes falling miserably to the ground. Atsumu’s fist comes up and hits Suna straight in the stomach, forcing the breath out of his lungs as he collapses to the floor. Atsumu looks at him with an expression of pure disgust, walking away to leave Suna where he is, slumped against the wall.

His eyes are dull, the life drained out of them, because he knows Atsumu is right. A notification causes his phone to buzz and he picks it up immediately, hoping to see anything from you, but it’s just another text from the fling. Hatred for himself and the person fills him, and he slams his phone down, allowing his head to sink into his knees. 

He needs to see you, so he grabs his stuff and rushes to his car, barely remembering to lock the gym on his way out. Going ten miles above the speed limit, he makes it to your house ten minutes after you had. 

Walking up to your front door, he knocks urgently, over and over again. He hears shuffling from behind, and the door opens to reveal you in an oversize sweatshirt that doesn’t belong to him and sweatpants, eyes red and puffy from crying. 

The instant you see him, time seems to stop. The hurt is written all over your face, and the regret all over his. He can’t seem to move, can’t do anything besides whisper your name.

“Y/N.” 

You shake your head, new tears forming in the corners of your eyes, and turn away. “I don’t want to talk to you, Suna.” 

With those words, his heart shatters a little bit more. He was your Rin, your Rinnie, never Suna. “Please-” the door slams in his face and he hears the lock turning, signaling the final goodbye. He screams, pounding on your door as the panic overtakes him. 

“Please! I love you! I’m so sorry, just please don’t leave me! I’ll go insane if you do!” Tears stream down his face and yours, mourning each other on opposite sides of the door. His words wrack you, tempt you to open the door and forgive him, but you can’t. He already showed you he didn’t care.

Half an hour passes, with the yells from the door fading into whimpers. Finally, you hear a car door slam, and you allow yourself to sob, held immobile on the floor. 

You’re broken, and it’s his fault. His head falls onto the steering wheel, not caring that it sets off the car horn.

Still, the rain patters on the roof, both of you less than three hundred feet apart, but forever separated.

He’ll never love anyone like he loved you.

[thebloggerbloggerfun]

@jellydeans: so are cas and jimmy novak just up in heaven existing at the same time @katebushstandean: #jimmy moves to heaven timbuku so that dean stops trying to make out with him every time they run into each other at the heaven grocery store

LINK

Thanks for letting me write this, guys!!

AO3  (2.1k)

The thing about Heaven was that it was whatever you wanted it to be, and most of its residents wanted it to be familiar.

Technically, Dean didn’t need to fill his car up on gas anymore, but there was still a gas station just down the street from where his new home was placed. He didn’t need to sleep, but he still had a large king-sized bed he made sure to make use of at least once a day. He didn’t need to eat, but there was a thriving supermarket that catered to whatever he was feeling like eating and always boasted the freshest ingredients for when he wanted to get a little fancy with his cooking.

Like today, for example.

Bobby had said he doubted Dean could make a proper souffle, so obviously Dean had to make the old man eat his words - and a souffle.

Dean stared at all of the different options of eggs, trying to decide if “free-range” vs. “organic” actually meant anything in Heaven, or if it was just meant to give him some sort of familiarity.

He grabbed the “free-range” option and moved on to the dairy.

There was movement out of the corner of his eye in the meat section across the way, and the way his heart stopped in his chest when he turned to look would have killed him if he wasn’t already dead.

It was Cas.

Cas, who Dean had spent every day thinking about since he’d left. Cas, who Dean had been trying to find ever since Bobby told him he was still around. Cas, who Dean still had unfinished business with.

He’d spend hours in bed, staring at the ceiling of his room and rehearsing just what he’d say when he saw him again, but in those scenarios Cas had shown up on his doorstep or in the passenger seat of his car where they could have a moment to just be .

He’d never been buying hamburger meat.

Dean rushed forward, cart forgotten, and skidded to a halt in front of Cas, just as he looked up in surprise.

“I love you -” Dean said in a rush, heart pounding, head reeling, “Of course I love you. You’re - fuck - you’re everything I could ever want and I’m - I’m so damn sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t have me, too.”

Cas blinked at him, and it was in that moment Dean realized something was wrong.

His expression, his hair, the way he moved, the way he was dressed - all of it was wrong.

None of it was Cas, he’d just been too overwhelmed to see it.

“Oh, uh... hey Dean,” Not-Cas said, and finished putting his selected meat in his basket, “I didn’t didn’t know that you died. Um, if you’re looking for Castiel -“

Dean turned and ran out of the store.

*

What were the fucking chances that in all of Heaven, he and Cas’s old vessel were neighbors?

Dean gunned the gas pedal on his car as he drove endlessly, trying to walk himself through what exactly had happened the day before.

Jimmy Novak was here.

Jimmy Novak who - last Dean checked - hated him.

Dean had just spewed his feelings all over him without even thinking about the possibility that he wasn’t Cas. He’d been wearing a sweater vest for crying out loud - but he was willing to forgive himself for that one because he didn’t really know how Cas would dress if he had the choice.

His hopes had soared so high when he’d seen the familiar figure, only to be dashed the moment Jimmy had opened his mouth. They sounded absolutely nothing alike - and Dean yearned for the deep gravel of Castiel’s greeting.

Dean’s grip on the wheel tightened.

Where was Cas?

Didn’t he know that there was nothing keeping them apart now?

In what could only be an act of fate smiling down on him, Dean zoomed around a corner near the Heavenly library, and instantly had to stomp on the brakes of the Impala as a trenchcoat-clad figure stepped into the previously empty crosswalk.

Old habits die hard - Dean was still going to brake for Heavenly pedestrians, especially ones that looked like Cas.

Cas turned to look at him, eyes wide, and Dean shoved the driver’s side door open in a panic. The trench coat was unmistakable this time.

“Cas! Cas - don’t go okay? I gotta -“

Cas shook his head sharply and let out a breath.

“No - Jesus Christ - it’s still me, you idiot.”

Dean gaped at him as his brain tried to catch up with the conflicting bits of information it was processing.

“...what?” He heard himself saying.

Had he just wanted it to be Cas so bad that he’d ignored all the signs?

Jimmy gestured at himself like it was enough of an explanation.

“Uh. Yeah.”

“But - but you’re wearing his trenchcoat! ” Dean said, waved at it like maybe Jimmy hadn’t realized he was walking around as the mockery of the angel who’d once shared a living space with him.

Jimmy placed an affronted hand on his own chest.

“It was my trenchcoat!”

Frustration boiled inside of him and Dean quickly slid back into the car and slammed the door shut behind him.

He sped off, once again running from what could have been.

*

Dean was sulking under a pile of blankets in his bed when there was a knock at his door.

He ignored it.

After a few moments of silence, the knocking came again, louder and more insistent this time.

Grumbling to himself, Dean threw the blankets off and trudged down the stairs, flinging open the door with a scowl.

A person with nearly combed hair was standing on the doorstep holding a six-pack of beer in one hand and had a sticker on his shirt that said, ‘Hello, my name is Jimmy’.

“Very funny.” Dean said flatly.

“It’s not funny. It’s just in case you try to kiss me or something.” Jimmy held up the six-pack expectantly. “Can I come in?”

Dean didn’t appreciate the ribbing, but he didn’t mind the beer.

And after accosting him twice he might as well let the guy do what he wanted.

“Yeah, whatever.” Dean grumbled and left the door open as he walked back inside and flopped onto his couch. “Why are you here? Don’t you hate me?”

Jimmy hummed as he set the beer down on the coffee table and took a seat opposite Dean.

“I don’t not hate you.” He said with a shrug. “But last time we talked you were trying to convince me to chain myself to a comet again and I can’t say I appreciated it.”

Dean grunted in acknowledgment.

“I’ve been in heaven for a while now. It’s nice here. I take a yoga class with my wife.” Jimmy smiled at him. “I think I’m in a much better mental space now to consider liking you, especially if we’re going to be neighbors.”

Dean winced.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to like Jimmy, it was just… that was Cas’s face. It wasn’t , but it was. Was he really going to have to be constantly taunted with it?

“Look man - I’m sorry about - you know. That.” Dean waved a hand in the air generally. “But you don’t have to do all this. I’ll stop harassing you.”

“That would be nice,” Jimmy said, opening one of the cans and taking a swig, “So, considering the things you’ve said to me, I take it he finally told you he loved you?”

Dean paused, still raw every time he thought about it.

“You knew?”

Jimmy smirked.

“That angel’s love for you permeated both of our beings so potently I’m amazed I don’t love you.” Jimmy said, like it was the kind of fact you could drop casually. “Though even I will admit, as a happily married heterosexual man, that having a man as handsome as you proclaim your love to me in the middle of a grocery store was very exciting.”

Dean dropped his head into his hands and groaned loudly.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Jimmy said, “That first one was pretty good. I’m sure he’s going to love it.”

“He’s never gonna hear it.” Dean muttered.

“Sure he will. You’ve already practiced it twice.”

“I can’t find him!” Dean said, and looked back up, “He’s here somewhere, and I can’t find him. It’s killing me.”

Jimmy held out a beer can.

“Good thing you’re already dead.”

Begrudgingly, Dean accepted the beer and opened it.

“I just. . . I just wanna see him again.” Dean took a long drink. “I want to talk to him. Tell him everything. Share everything. If he wants that.”

Dean let out a long breath, expecting Jimmy to interject with a quip.

He looked over at him when nothing happened, and Jimmy was smiling at him in a way that Dean could only describe as ‘fond’.

“What?” Dean said, indignantly.

“Nothing.” Jimmy said innocently. “You’re just not what I expected.”

Dean looked away.

“Anyway, you asked why I’m here,” Jimmy took another drink, “I’ve seen Castiel.”

“What?” Dean jumped to his feet, beer can dropped to the floor and forgotten about. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”

“I’m an enigma,” Jimmy shrugged a shoulder and leaned back against the plush chair, “Anyway, I wanted to let you know as someone who has literally been in Castiel’s head - I'm pretty sure I know the reason he’s not showing himself to you.”

“Well, fucking spill.”

Jimmy paused.

“Why do you love him?”

Of all the things Dean had been expecting Jimmy to say - this wasn’t it.

Dean sat back down.

“Why?” He asked, a little breathless. “Why does it matter?”

Jimmy shrugged again.

“I guess -” Dean said, trying to unspool his emotions from the knot they’d made in his heart, “He’s - he’s Cas. He cares . . . so much about everyone and - and he’s selfless and kind and he fucking saved me in more ways than just one. He’s always been there for me and Sam and he’s just… he’s just. He’s just good . I’ll never deserve him, but I want to try.”

Dean sucked in a deep breath.

“He pulls me away from the edge, man. I just love him.”

Jimmy nodded once, set down his beer can, and in a bizarre turn of events, began yelling at Dean’s ceiling.

“Did you hear that, Castiel? Not one goddamn thing about how you look! Nothing about me or my vessel!”

Dean stared, dumbfounded.

“Wh-”

“He doesn’t care what you look like! Can you please just come talk to him so I can stop playing marriage counselor for you two?”

Care how he - what?  

What was happening?

Before Dean could fully compile all of the new information, there was a hesitant knock at the front door.

Dean whipped his head towards Jimmy, who was smiling in satisfaction.

Nearly tripping over himself, Dean rushed to the door faster than he’d rushed towards anything in his life, and swung it open.

In front of him was the wavelength of celestial intent that Dean had always known existed inside of the vessel of Jimmy Novak - the glint of angelic creation he’d caught glimpses of in the glow of his eyes and in his healing touch. The being was massive and stretched high into the sky with what was (maybe three? four??) pairs of wings scraping the clouds even further above everything. He was flaming rings and rotating divine faces that Dean could barely comprehend - he was raw power and all-knowing eyes.

On the front of his form was a sticker that read, ‘Hello, my name is Castiel’.  

“. . . Hello Dean.” The voice rumbled through the air like thunder.

“Cas?” Dean said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I - yes. I’m sorry. I lost my vessel to the Empty - this was the only way -”

“I love you, too.”

The rotating faces on the form towering above him froze in place.

“I do! I love you, Cas. Okay? You didn’t let me say it back before - and if I’ve ever made you feel like I couldn’t love you back, I’m so fucking sorry. You deserve better.”

“. . . you love me?”

Dean nodded, his heart clenching at the disbelief he could hear in Cas’s voice.

“ Even as this?”

“You’ve always been this.” Dean swallowed. “I fell in love with the angel, not the vessel.”

“Dean. . .”

Dean smiled up at him in understanding.

“Just a shame that we’ll have to get a bigger house.”

“Oh I can -”

And as Dean looked on, Castiel began to shrink. The form didn’t change - he was still as striking as he’d been the first time with his wings and halos and faces still firmly in place - but he was now maybe one foot taller than Dean instead of one hundred.

“- make myself more manageable.”

Dean grinned and took a step forward, giddy and thrilled that this was finally, actually happening

He reached up, resting a hand on one of the divine faces.

“Bite-sized.” He murmured fondly.

Jimmy’s voice cut through the moment from somewhere behind them.

“Just so you two know - I. Am. Moving!”