#michaela mumbles

[italoniponic]

Deuce: So I'm a fanboy

Epel: Fanboy? Sorry but I'ma different. I fancowboy, sir

Jack: Fancowboy? I fanman, buddy

Azul: Fanman? I fanlord, poor thing

Riddle: Fanlord? I fanking, peasant

Malleus: Fanking? I fangod, mortal

Idia: That escalated quickly

[pinkslaystation]

His name is Ghost.

Toxic!Ghost and ...not you

You're friend wants you to meet a special someone, and he happens to be closer to you than you think. Literally. Word Count: 4.3k

"Yeah he's great, you should come meet him! Although I dunno, he said he wanted to keep 'us' a secret..."

You look up from your laptop at your best friend Michaela, who has blabbering about her new fling for an hour now. You hum in acknowledgment, but come on ... you're not really listening.

"And he has a sick motorcycle, but he's never let me on it..." She drones on.

"Uh huh."

"And he said I would look prettier with longer hair! Which I think means he finds me already a little pretty...?"

"Wow, I agree..."

"And- YO ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?"

You shut your laptop and focus wholly on her. "Mickey I love you, but this is the eighth guy you've loved this year. Whose to say this is gonna work out?"

Mickey sulks into your bed as you lecture her, finally being able to pour out your emotions.

"The last guy, who you planned a wedding for, you ended up dumping 'cos he reminded you of wet ketchup." You complain, moving your hands around over-dramatically. "And the dick before that, couldn't even pronounce your name correctly-"

"To be fair, Mickey is quite a hard name-" She butts in.

"It's a fucking Disney character, for Christs sake, who the fucks Missy? Listen, Mick, I'm happy for you, but you keep on dating douches, and then a month later, you come back crying to me about it. This isn't good for you or for me, you know how busy I am on this thesis."

Mickey's face contorts to a look of displeasure and betrayal, her eyes squinting as if she's trying to restraint the tears that look like they're about to burst in a moment.

She looks away before recollecting her thoughts, "I- I just thought you'd be happy for me-"

"I am Mickey! I really am! But it's like you search up 'world's most toxic asshat' and decide to bone the dude. They never treat you well Mick...come on, even a blind guy can see that..."

Your friend looks down, playing with the hem of her jumper, as if she's carefully considering your words, but you know her enough to know that she doesn't care for her advice. 4 weeks from now, and shes going to be sitting on your bed bawling her eyes out over another prick.

"You really are the worst, you know that?" She mumbles almost inaudibly, before getting up and heading towards the door of your dingy flat. You call out her name, telling her to come back, but give it a month, she'll come back trying over a different person.

It's a dark stormy Friday night, not even a week since your last contact with her, and there's already a brash pattern of knocks bombarding at your door. You look up from your laptop, almost a quarter into your thesis.

I swear if it's my fucking landlord again... You think as you grab a bat to protect yourself with, Mickey always complains about how dangerous your neighbourhood is.

You sigh out of relief when you peer through the peephole, it's Michaela...but she looks hysterical.

"Mickey...hey listen, I didn't mean what I said..." You start when you open the door to her furrowed eyebrows and hiccuped sobs.

"H- He- He keeps ghosting me-" She tries.

"Mickey, what's going on, who-"

She digs her face into the nook of your right shoulder, and your sharp nose detected the slight smell of booze, "Saw him at the grocery store, b-but he ignored me."

"Michaela honey, sit down. Okay what's going on." You bring her to your bed.

And so she tells you all about it. About the new guy that she's been seeing for 2 weeks now, how she met him at a new bar opening in your area, about how he sweet talked her into buying her a few drinks, and how he drove her home like a real gentleman. Your face scrunches when she accidentally spills about the part how rough he pounded her in her bedroom, with both her wrists tightly gripped and bound by one of his large callous hands, as he bent her over her desk.

The skillful way in which he dug his hips into her ass, 'thrusting into her like God told him to' as she put it. You mumble a little blasphemous when you hear that part.

A few more, 'Oh the dick was so good, I can't, I'm obsessed' and 'He fucked me like my future husband would', and she finally stops, her train of tears coming to a halt and she blankly stares at your ceiling, laying on your bed.

You nod dimly, not knowing whether to use the pep talk that you'd used for the last guy.

"What's this guy's name again?" You question her.

She shrugs, without energy, and the idea of injecting with a tranquiliser faintly disappears from your mind.

You look at her with amusement. "What do you mean-" you shrug, mocking her actions, "Does he have an ugly name like the other guy...what was...oh, Lester?"

Mickey snorts, looking up at you, "Lester didn't know how to eat me out, like he did."

"You don't need to bring up every sexual detail, Mick..."

"Sorry virgin..." She huffs.

You cringe at her, "Okay, so what's his name, it can't be as bad as Lester." She doesn't respond, her eyes tearing up again, "Um, okay, Imma say some names, tell me if I get it. James, John, Joseph, Jeremy, Jeremia-"

"Why are they all J names?" She mutters.

"Uh hello, you barged into my flat at 11 P.M. and you're drunk, considering how toxic this guy is, it's gotta be a J name. Jerome, Jude, Javon, Julius, Jason-"

"G." She stops you.

"G? Jason with a G...what the...Gason? Yeah, girl, if his name was that ugly, I'd be crying just as hard at you-"

"NO UH." She shouts so loudly, dragging her words, that even the gust of wind stops in fright. "His name starts with G...I think it does at least. He wouldn't tell me his real name...just a nickname."

You nod, as if in agreement, but you stop yourself because you've never been in a similar situation. As much as you love Michaela, you despise almost everything she does.

Like how in 2nd year of university, she missed an exam just so she could go on a date with a guy she was seeing. And she wonders why she had to retake that module over the summer.

There was also the time at your 20th birthday dinner, where she uninvitingly decided to bring her fling for the month, and no, you couldn't the food given the amount of time they decided to share saliva right in front of you.

"Wow Mick, your standards be dropping like this economy." You kid, although some part of you really questions how much truth lied behind that, "So, hit me. Who's this guy you've been seeing. Tell me about him."

"You for real?" She smiles sweetly at you, and for a second, every bone of hate towards her actions wash away. At the end of the day, she still is your best friend, and you should support her decision no matter what. That's what friends do, no?

"Yeah. I'm sorry. What's his name...or nickname? What do you call him?" You hold her hands, rubbing above her thumbs.

She sniffs a bit, but her smile doesn't falter, and her cheek blushes at the mere thought of him.

"His name is Ghost."

It's official. This was the worst guy Mickey has dated.

You've made a list of all people she's been with, ranking them with how well they'd treated her.

Okay so, Derek was a pass, he cheated on her with the Philosophy professor...literally worst degree ever. What kinda dumb career can you even go into with that.

Then there's Jonah, reaaaal bad boy, but he screamed like a girl and was way too deep into feminism. Pass, how do you manage to mansplain feminism??

Marc, aspiring footballer. You know what, smash, he was fine, I'll give her that. But then he left to play for Spain and never texted back... But he had dimples, so I'd forgive him.

Oh how did I forget Oliver. Auditioned to be a k-pop idol but lied about being Korean the entire time...pass for sure.

GAAH! There all so trash!

And yet there's another member on this list. Nameless, faceless 'Ghost'.

"What does he look like?" You begin your interrogation.

"Dunno." Mickey shrugs.

"How old is he?"

"Dunno."

"...Career?"

"Dunno."

"Dunno as in you don't know, or dunno as in this freak's unemployed?" You rub your temples in frustration.

Mickey sighs seeing how annoyed you are, she begged and dragged you out of your flat into the bright lights and atmosphere of a cafe.

"I think he's loaded, he-"

You sigh, "You said that about the last guy, and that was just because you couldn't see the minus sign on his online banking app."

"Can you not get annoyed at me for a second? This is my potential husband for all I know." She says exasperatingly.

"Ah yes! Your husband is a nameless, faceless, jobless knobhead who you've had sex with once, talked to...ONCE. Remind me why you're so hooked on this guy? Here's a challenge, don't mention his dick."

An elderly lady sitting on the table besides you two, grumbles and leaves after hearing that.

"...Can I have a sip of your frappe?"

"Oh would you look at that! Princess Mickey DOES know how to ask a question! You couldn't just, I don't know....ASK for his name? Don't act like this was the hardest thing you've done, remember when you considered proposing TO A MAN-"

"The only hard thing about Ghost...was his penis."

The cafe goes silent when she blurts that out.

You sigh for what felt like the 100th time that hour, and you lean in to whisper to Mickey, "Mick, it's been just over a week since you've last seen him- whose to say you'll see him again?"

She rests her head in her hands, clenching her eyes shut at the thought. "I thought I'd run into him again, I don't know...Am I stupid for wanting him so bad?"

Yes, yes you are. You want to say. But you bite your tongue.

"nOoOoO, oF cOuRsE nOt, gah, why'd you say tha- yes. Yes, you are." So much for trying, "You don't even remember what he looks like, are you sure we're not stuck looking for a character out of one of your sex dreams?"

Mickey leans in so close to you, that you can smell the coffee breath.

"I know I was drunk, but I swear, I woke up and there was hickeys all over my neck-"

"But you said he was wearing a mask-" You're interrupting her and you can tell it irritates her, with her eyebrow twitching.

"Yes, but I don't remember-"

"What colour was the mask?"

"Uh, black."

"Was it a surgical mask or a balaclava?"

"Um, a baklava."

"Bitch, that's a pastry dish."

"I CAN'T! I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!" Mickey screams, standing up so abruptly, everyone in the cafe stops and turns.

You gasp, purposely loud so everyone can hear, "Are you breaking up with me...because I'm homeless?" All of the cafe goers murmur to each other at the scene in front of them.

"We were at your flat an hour ago, you fool- come on we're going." Mickey hisses, dragging you out the cafe, uncomfortably smiling at all the people that looked at you with sympathy, "No, don't feel bad, apparently a thesis is more to important than my future husband."

The walk home was pleasant, with Mickey hooking her arms around of yours, onlookers may have assumed that you two were a couple. But overall, it was nice being in her presence without the mention of any men.

"Hey look, the room next to yours is vacant. Maybe I should move in!" Mickey points out, when both of you have made it down the stairs of your building.

"I don't want you that often, jeez." You joke.

And for a while, your days do seem to be getting better.

It's been a month since your little cafe date, and you're still stuck at home grovelling through your tedious thesis.

The good news is, you're about 3 quarters in, the bad news is, your new neighbour has no apparent spatial awareness, having blasted his rock music through the floor. Unlucky for you, there's only 3 apartments on the floor of your building: you, Mr Feldman (who you're sure is deaf considering he hasn't made any complaint from the noise) and you're new neighbour, whom you've never met but already hate.

"TURN DOWN YOUR MUSIC DUMBASS." You bang on the door of your neighbour.

Yet no one opens the door and apologises.

In the evening, the noises get worse. Instead of rock, it's a combination of Weeknd songs and the loud female moans and bed shaking next door. Once you'd heard voices that had belonged to 2 women, so you deduced that you lived next to a sex-crazed lesbian.

"Mr Feldman, how are you okay with it?!" You complain. You've had enough of the noise, especially the headboard banging since it seems your neighbours bedroom is just a wall away from yours.

"Okay with what, sweetheart?" The elderly gentleman croaks out, standing at his doorstep.

"The noise! You don't hear the loud ass music?" You groan, having being repeating yourself for a 2nd time.

"Yes, the music is ass, but it isn't loud." Mr Feldman says, his finger tapping at his chin, comically pondering with his jurassic-age brain.

You roll your eyes, walking away and towards your own room, "How- I feel forgetting how old you truly are...."

"I heard that."

"I really doubt you did." You shut the door on him.

This is a real issue, not like the ones Mickey has with men, you can't focus on your thesis, this could seriously jeopardise your education.

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: have u talked to ur landlord

ᵇʳᵒˢᶦᶜᵏˡᵉˢ: duh i unleashed my inner karen, but he isnt doing anything cos this dick offered to pay almost double the rent for his flat

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: damn he loaded

ᵇʳᵒˢᶦᶜᵏˡᵉˢ: yet he cant afford earphones apparently

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: why dont u get him some

ᵇʳᵒˢᶦᶜᵏˡᵉˢ: wat

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: as a joke

ᵇʳᵒˢᶦᶜᵏˡᵉˢ: hm thats funny mickey

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: thanks who am i talking to again

So you did just that, you placed a pair of pink wired earphones in his mailbox... which happened to be right next to yours. And you waited.

And waited.

And a week later, and no response.

Your neighbour definitely doesn't know that he has a mailbox does he? A week since you're little prank, and yet you can still hear the music through the walls so loud, you think you've developed tinnitus. The throbbing in your ears is so painful, sometimes you feel phantom drips of blood running down your ear.

"Asshole doesn't even turn down the music. Come on, play some Beyonce at least."

Mickey snickers, she's on your bed texting other people.

"You're not even listening, are you?" You throw a pillow at her playfully to get her attention.

"Babe, it's 1 in the afternoon and I can't hear any music now, let's not start the day like this. Say, there's a lil get together in that bar down the road, you there?" She says, but you're not even sure she's talking to you as she hadn't looked up to you since saying that.

You crack your neck from exhaustion, "Nah I'll pass, need to finish a draft of my thesis and sen-"

"Blah blah blah, all I hear are excuses, thesis this thesis that." She rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, well you would have failed high school and university if not for me. So you paying with cash or card?" You boast.

Mickey gets up, dusting herself, "Listen I gotta dash, but I better see you there- it starts at 11."

"Woah, wait, which bar, who's going, what's the dress code- Okay you're gone."

And for a first time in a while, you're stuck in your room alone, without the loud obnoxious music and without anyone constantly whining at you. Peace and silence-

Hold on, what's that?

You press your ear against your bedroom wall, which is funny considering you usually complain about the noise. It's not music, it's more sultry and sexual. Deep and gruff moans escaping someone, and this time it's actually enjoyable to listen to. Nothing like those pornstar like squeals you were used to, no. This was more raw.

The way his voice broke at certain points combined with the lazy irregular slick noises, which you imagined to be his dick slipping through his tight, cocooned fist.

"Fuck, mhm."

That voice.

If this was the voice of your neighbour, you would have never complained about the commotion. Was this why Mr Feldman has no issue with the noise? Was he blessed with the intimidating whimpers next door?

You press further, ignoring the growing wetness pooling at your underwear. You could tell he started thrusting faster, his voice increasing in volume just a little bit.

You could tell he's close.

But some part of you wanted to deny him of this pleasure.

So instead of touching yourself with your neighbour, you're standing right in front of his door, banging against the door frame with all the might you can muster, you fear you might break it down.

The door opens.

And you're face to face with your neighbour.

And a minute the warmth between your legs actually makes sense. Because you're neighbour isn't a sex crazed lesbian...you're neighbour is a-

"Sex God,"

"Excuse me?" His voice is deeper when he's talking.

"... I said, oh God. Can you keep the music down?" You reroute your words, drinking in the appearance of this beast in front of you.

He's tall, maybe a few inches taller than 6 foot, with short dusty blonde hair, and a prominent scar running through his thin but well moisturised lips. And his jawline, wow, the Gods above must have spent eons perfecting his jaw structure-

"'m sorry. But uh, hey thanks for the earphones." He pulls out one of the hot pink earbud from his ear.

You blush, he had seen his gift, "Uh huh, how'd you know it's from me?"

"Y' think old man Feldman's gonna buy a bloke hello kitty earphones?" He kids.

"Maybe, it's 2024. Live and let live. Don't be shocked if you see Feldman walking around in a skirt." And you're surprised he laughs your joke, admiring the crease lines by his mouth when he smiles, almost forgetting that you had an imagine in your head that he was the worst possible neighbour alive...

"Cute." He comments, looking down at you.

"Me...? Or are you visualising Feldman....." You drag your words, until he laughs again, leaning onto his door frame and just then you understand why Mickey would chase guys the way she does.

"No, please, he's not my type. I lean towards um...cute, short neighbours."

"You're literally just describing Feldman, dude,"

"That's on me," he smiles widely at you, "If I had known it was you banging on my door, I'd 'ave opened it a while back." He flirts.

You blink at him, no ones ever flirted with you. What would Mickey do? No, she'd just snog him this very moment. I mean, what's stopping you?

"If I'd known you were my neighbour, I'd be banging you a while back. Wait."

There's a pause in the conversation and you're too scared to correct yourself. "I-"

But he cuts you off, letting out the loudest laughs at that you'd ever heard, almost as if he was cursed not to laugh and it had finally been broken. The type where he hand gently grabs your shoulder and you could almost feel the vibrations from his broad chest.

What a sight.

"You know what I meant." You giggle, wait, when did you start giggling?

His laugh ends in a fit of small coughs, "Didn't catch your name, dove."

You introduce yourself, opting not to sticking your hand out like you're in a job interview.

But he does it for you, placing one large callous hand in front of you, for you to shake.

"Simon." He says as he kisses the back of your hand.

You thought when you met Simon, that you two had bonded, like he was about to ask you out bonded, but alas you were wrong.

You laid in bed the rest of the day, intending to complete a draft for your thesis, yet instead you found yourself on Sims creating a family for you and your beloved Simon. And a short nap later, you wait up to over 20 notifications from your friend.

4 missed calls from ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: yoooo wru??? its 11:30

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: HOEEEE WAKE UP

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: fuck ur thesis come hereee im drunk

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: BABE THE GHOST GUY IS HERE NO JOKE

5 missed calls from ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: you better be dead

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: oml he saw me

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: black baklava btw

2 missed calls from ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: hehehehe im going back to his place

ᴹᶦᶜᵏᵉʸᴹᵒᵘˢᵉᶜˡᵘᵇʰᵒᵘˢᵉ: if i die yk where im at yh

Oh shit. It's past midnight, you try calling Mickey but her phone goes straight to voicemail, curse her and her DND.

You start looking for your keys, there's no way you're attending the party, you're just going to pick her up from whomever's place she's at and take her home.

"Mhm, doll, jus' like that."

You pause in your step. Mickey's safe right? A quick listen wont hurt anyone.

"'lil deeper pretty girl, yeah, like that."

Some part of you wishes it was porn Simon was watching, and that God was playing a cruel joke on you, introducing you to the prettiest guy you've seen, and now suddenly you're stuck hearing him fuck someone else? Yeah, you've heard it before but...this time it made you feel uneasy.

This time you knew who was behind the voice, you knew who was moaning. And forgive me, but you thought you had a connection, no? That talk earlier today...did it mean nothing?

And when did he suddenly become so vocal? What was so special about this girl than the others?

You stand still, with your ear pressed so tightly against the wall, you've probably left a mark against it. And his moans never stop.

And hers start. For a second you feel like you recognise the female voice, but through the slurs and hand-covered whimpers (you presume), you can't figure out if it was familiar to you or not.

You flinch when the head boards banging, and you feel yourself throwing every romantic thought you've had of this man when you hear his degrading tone towards her.

"C’mon, make yourself cum on my cock, dove."

You gulp hearing him use the nickname he gave you on someone else.

30 minutes of torture.

You stood against that wall, with your ear so firmly pressed, someone might have thought it was glued on. The only sounds you were focused on was his whimpers and you caught the way his voice broke when he spoke, and your infrequent breathes.

When the noises stopped, you stepped back in embarrassment. You felt so shameful practically peering into a man's sex life. How disgusting are you truly?

You reach into your pockets, feeling for your keys and your phone, suddenly remembering Mickey's whereabouts.

ᵇʳᵒˢᶦᶜᵏˡᵉˢ: just woke up

You lied. You couldn't ever tell someone of today.

ᵇʳᵒˢᶦᶜᵏˡᵉˢ: omw wru

You open your door, feeling the abrupt urge to surround yourself within nature after doing something so distasteful. And if it couldn't get any worse...

Simon's door opens.

One part of you wants to turn and see which lucky girl had the opportunity to getting plowed by him, and yet the other part knew you'd immediately crumble at the thought of it not being you.

"Oh my god! That's why this place looks so familiar....!"

You widen your eyes, your breathe getting caught once again.

"Mickey...?" You whisper, not even turning your head to look at the horror next door.

"Yes, it's me silly. Come here, want you to meet someon- oh can't walk, fuck." She giggles, barely conscious.

You turn your head towards her slowly, like a movie character.

It's Mickey in the flesh, wearing jeans and a black tube top that had been worn so sloppily, you were almost scared you were going to get flashed. She smiles innocently at you were half lidded eyes.

"Oh...I-"

A figure walks out, dressed in a blue-gray 3/4 sweater and a hood, and you swear you feel yourself sinking into the ground. Could this get any worse.

And your wishes were answered. Mickey turns back to press a vulgar, almost cringe-worthy kiss against his clothed jaw, and you shift your eyes down... to see his dark jeans... and the zip undone. You turn your head around, almost debating to ignore the couple and lock yourself into your bedroom until death overcomes you. Your darting eyes rest on his face, begging for him to say something to remove the awkwardness.

Yet, something about Simon was different...

His eyes bore deeply into your soul as if trying to read you, his once kind face contorted into a look of pure disgust, like he were looking into the eyes of a killer. This didn't look like the man you talked to this morning...

His eyes drag down over your crooked frame, a raised eyebrow twitching almost in mock sympathy. To make it worse, he had his arms crossed so tightly around him, he looked like the human epitome of a 'side eye'.

You pray to God it's the effects of alcohol. Or maybe you're the drunk one! Maybe you're sleeping and this is all just a dream, or nightmare...

You put your hands on the doorknob, wanting to resign yourself from this situation when your eyes drift back to Mickey, who seems to have taken the liberty of speaking.

"I want you meet the guy I was talking to you about. His name is Ghost."

First of all, thank you all for 6200 likes and 300 followers?!!!! THE BEST <3 Also, my writing schedule is so poor, I'll try to update as much as possible!! tags -> @lilliumrorum , @kxtz3 , @poohkie90, @rainlovesyou12 , @restrictionsapply-blog , @lunamoonbby , @nigthmar3moon , @thychuvaluswife , @itsnourm , @bubusi11, @chessecakelover , @owkittie, @cheomain , @corvusmorte , @k4es , @mandythemint , @copiasratscheese , @yyiikes , @funkyysho3es, @delta98-idk , @spankmydepression , @yourfavbabigirl

[asterias-record-shop]

Wedding night And #8 for Andrew Garfield?

—𓆩[we go down together]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩[your wedding song ♡]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Husband! Andrew Garfield x Wife! Fem! Pregnant! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - pure fluff and smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.5K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Andrew promised you that he would make sure your wedding was perfect. He didn’t care how much it cost, where it would be, who was invited, as long as he was marrying you. Even then though, as much as he wanted to stick by the rules and not see you on the special day, he sneaks a peak and sees a small little surprise you had just for him.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing & foul language || I gave you best friends with names inspired by Harry Potter cuz my sister was watching it- || Michaela Jaé Rodriguez and Florence Pugh are now your best friend cuz they’re amazing || I didn’t put the actual wedding ceremony cuz it would’ve taken too long sorry with love 🤍 || I chose a wedding song for you || public oral || public sex || fingering || unprotected sex || creampie || breeding kink || multiple orgasms || pregnant sex || daddy kink || lactation kink || pregnancy kink || this is pure filthy smut I’m so sorry I got carried away- ||

“So, are you going to kick me out now?” Andrew whispered to you, his hands teasing at your hips in an attempt to persuade you into letting him stay the whole night. He thought the superstition was stupid, and to you as well, but your best friends were insisting on it.

Besides, you had a little gift for Andrew you didn’t want him seeing, so it worked out.

You hummed, letting your fingers trail down his bare chest. It was tempting, him and his perfect accent, but no. This was being done for the right reason. “Not yet. You still have a few minutes.”

Andrew sends you his signature lopsided grin. “I can do a lot in a few minutes.”

You couldn’t help but giggle as he leaned forward, kissing you softly with a firm press of his lips. “I know you can baby… I know.”

He grins, raising a brow. “So I can-?”

“It’s 11:55, Andrew, get out!” Your best friend rushed in, grabbing him from the bed and basically dragging him out.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You yelled, sitting up as they paused.

“He can’t see you on your wedding day!” They then proceeded to drag him out, a loud laugh escaping his lips.

“I love you, my sweet girl!”

“I love you too, Andrew!”

The next morning, Andrew knew he wasn’t supposed to see the gift you gave your best friend, a bright blue bag that he had seen around the house but never looked inside because you were yelling exclusively at him not to.

“Look! Isn’t it so cute, I got it custom made,” you pulled out a tiny piece of cloth that he couldn’t see, but it wasn’t like he was trying to whenever he was staring at the beautiful wedding dress you had on. “He’s going to love it, right?”

Maybe it was lingerie, oh he’d love any lingerie you’d put on. It didn’t make sense though, you’d have the lingerie on, underneath that beautiful wedding dress that would’ve had ancestors turning in their graves.

The white fabric was tight on your body, lace overlapping the skin toned fabric that matched yours perfectly to make it seem like the white lace and the intricate beadings and pearls and small white and clear crystals that made it seem like it was dancing on your skin. He inhaled deeply as you turned around, makeup perfect and that perfect white gold ring that had the large diamond created into it made a deep sigh leave his lips, his eyes already watering.

Oh, how could you look so beautiful? You were showing skin and your beautiful form that he had praised for years, mumbling words against your body about how perfect you were.

Fuck, he couldn’t stop staring.

“Andrew!” Your friend saw him still dressed in some sweatpants and a t-shirt, still designer of course, but he still wasn’t dressed in the suit he picked out. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving, I’m sorry!” He wiped his eyes quickly as you gasped when Hermione covered your body with her own.

“Get out!” Michaela yells, laughing when she almost trips. “Go!”

Andrew groans dramatically as he walks away, holding back a smile when the door slammed shut. He could hear your laugh, making Andrew look back until Jamie and Charlie walked out.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Jaime was laughing, his tux tight in his body. “Sneaking into her room, naughty Andrew, aren’t you?”

“She has a present for me,” he grinned, looking over at Charlie. “And I’m going to enjoy it so much.”

After the official wedding, it was time for the grand entrance. For your something old, new, borrowed, and blue, there were a lot of things your bridesmaids gave you, but one of your families gave you the chance to get married where they did as their something ‘borrowed’.

The reception was adults only, especially with everyone else being adults and the fact you and Andrew were always pretty physical. For something new, Florence gave you diamond ear cuffs to accentuate your new diamond and sapphire earrings Michaela had given you for something blue. For something old, Andrew’s mother gave you a diamond and white gold tennis bracelet that had been in their family.

“You ready to go inside, baby? It’s our grand entrance,” Andrew pulled away from your lips, his fingers digging into your hips. His lips were swollen, thankfully un-smeared of lipstick because of the makeup artist Andrew got to make sure you looked absolutely perfect. “And they’ve been waiting for like half an hour because I couldn’t get this dress off for a quickie.”

You only giggle, humming softly with a shrug. “They’ve waited this long, they can wait a few more minutes. You just… your mouth is just perfect.”

He grinned. “Oh, is it? Let me see, show me,” he leaned back on the wall, pushing himself into a wall sit position to lean his head back so that you were taller than him. He opened his mouth wide, watching as you leaned down to lick against his tongue, his hands pulling you closer between his legs. You tilt your head, pulling him closer as you tug his head farther up, desperate to taste him more.

He tasted like mint, fresh and cold as you exhaled into his mouth and stroked his hair. You sucked even harder, groaning before a loud scream made you pull back.

“Y/N, Andrew, get your butts inside!” Florence yelled, her accent filling the room as you laughed.

“We’re coming!”

“I hope not!” Michaela yelled, peeking out from inside the main building. “Come on, let’s go!”

Andrew stood up straight, fixing his white suit as you grabbed his hand and pulled him to the door. You both slowly walked in, cheers and laughter and music filling your ears as Andrew looked over at you while pulling you to the middle of the dance floor. Your song started playing, that perfect, perfect song. You had started listening to it randomly, and whenever Andrew heard it, you both agreed that it would be a perfect wedding song.

We Go Down Together by Khalid and Dove Cameron fit the two of you. Sometimes you did fight and fall, there were nights filled with sobbing, but as soon as you both saw each other and were pulled into the other's arms; everything went quiet. It went still, soft, the only thing filling the night was each other.

“I’m always going to be here for you, Andrew,” you whisper, stroking the back of his head. “Always and forever. I will be with you forever.”

Andrew inhaled deeply, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. “I love you, Y/N. Forever and always. I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

Right at the end, there was one last thing that you both had to do. The taking off the garter, it was time.

You sat down in the large cushioned chair that made you feel like a queen, your dress that went out at the waist hiked up as everyone around you both cheered. It was hot, extremely hot temperature wise you were surprised your makeup wasn’t dripping down your face, but it was good.

Andrew must have been hot too, his blazer already off and the tie around his neck gone and the top few buttons already unbuttoned. His face was shiny, sheening with sweat as he kneeled down in front of you, unbuttoning his shirt even lower making everyone cheer. He goes under the poofy skirt of your dress, his tongue shamelessly dragging along your thigh as his hands hold your knees apart and a loud squeal leaves your mouth. Everyone cheers, but your mind was focused on his mouth as he licked against your bare cunt exposed by your lingerie, sucking and rubbing his fingers against your slit. Your hands rush to hold his head through your dress, an uncontrollable giggle leaving your lips as he slides a finger inside of your cunt, easily because he was definitely fingering you earlier in the hall.

It doesn’t change the feeling though, his middle finger thrusting into you knuckle deep and his thumb rubbing around your entrance. Teasing around your entrance with his thumb as his teeth graze down your thigh, teasing the lace and chiffon garter. You hold back a whimper and a moan as he slowly takes a hold of it, pulling out his sticky fingers as he gets down to your ankle, slipping the garter off around your heel before coming out from under your skirt with the garter between his teeth.

Oh you truly couldn’t wait for tonight.

When you and Andrew got home, he was carrying you bridal style like he always wanted to. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, laughing as he kicked the door shut and quickly set the alarm before moving to the stairs. “Andrew. Andrew, baby please, I need you, I need you so bad.”

You had been desperate ever since he finger fucked you while taking off your garter, sneaking away to finish it off while everyone was dancing to fuck you with his long digits in the hallway, effectively making you come undone around his fingers while you begged for more.

He laughed, pressing kisses to your neck as he finally made it up, going straight to your shared room’s closed door. “You need me, love? Yeah? I swear to fucking god I’m going to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk straight for the rest of the year baby. I’ll fuck you so much you’ll never forget this night, fill you up with so much cum that you’ll be pregnant by the end of the night.”

You gasped, making him pause after he opened the door, raising a brow. “Y/N, baby, everything alright?”

You looked back inside the room, smiling when you saw the baby blue bag. “Take me inside!” He quickly does as you say, setting you down as you quickly run to the bag, your bare feet padding along the cold wood floor. “Open it!”

“Baby, is everything alright? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just open it!”

He sighs as he slowly sits down on the bed, your hands already undoing the back of your dress and slipping it off easily because Andrew had untied the main knot earlier. You kneeled in front of him, the only thing covering your body was the lingerie that you had underneath your wedding dress. The sight alone made him get distracted, your eyes wide and waiting for him to open the bag that he had seen earlier, face bare of makeup that you had taken off before you both left the venue.

“Andrew!” You whined, a pout on your swollen lips. “Open it!”

“R-Right,” he looks down at the bag, inhaling deeply as he takes out the tissue paper and you giggle. He slowly takes out the fabric, your face falling when he looks at you confused. “What is it?”

“It’s a onesie, Andrew!” You groaned. “Turn it around!”

He did, jaw falling slack when he saw the blue texts underneath the graphic of a swaddled baby, ‘YOU’RE GOING TO BE A DADDY!’

You start to worry when he doesn’t speak, quickly peeking over the onesie to see his eyes red and bloodshot, tears falling down his cheeks. “Oh, Andrew!”

“I’m going to be a dad?” His voice was broken, hoarse as you quickly jumped into his chest, hugging him. “Oh my fucking god, I’m going to be a dad. I’m going to be a daddy, baby, you’re making me a daddy.”

You smiled widely, tears of relief filling your eyes as you slowly pulled the onesie from his grip and pulled him down to press a kiss to your lips. You groaned loudly as his hands quickly hold your hips, pulling you off of the ground as he stood and turned around, easily laying you on the bed before crawling over your body.

His lips trail over your skin, sucking and biting to leave hickies all over your perfect skin. He groaned loudly as your legs spread automatically for him, sitting back to quickly undo his belt and unbutton his pants, fumbling to slip them off making you giggle. He succeeds after a few minutes, ducking back down to kiss against your tits.

“To think these pretty tits are going to be filled with milk for me soon,” he murmured against your nipples, cupping and squeezing at them making your nipples quickly go hard and your back arch. You whined as he sucked on your nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive bud as he stared up at you. “You’re going to be a perfect mommy for our babies, darling, but I think as soon as I taste your milk, I’m gonna keep wanting more.”

You whined as his other hand squeezed at your nipple, flicking with his thumb as he continued to suck and abuse the other, groaning. “Dr-Drew, you’re going to be a perfect daddy, you’re going to be the best daddy ever.”

He groans against your tit, lapping against your perky bud with a wink. “Do you think so, baby? I swear, I’m going to love seeing you round with my baby and tits full of milk. Swear, I’m going to be hard all the fucking time seeing you pregnant with my baby. Think I’m going to like seeing you pregnant.”

You whined loudly, hips bucking as your eyes rolled back when he moved to the other tit. “Andrew, Andrew please!”

“Ah ah baby, I’m a daddy now,” he grinned at you, teasing you. “Think you should call me that now.”

This wasn’t something that happened often, but how could you refuse when he looked so fucking proud of himself? “D-Daddy, daddy please. Please, need you to fuck me. Need to be full of your cum, need to feel your cock inside of me.”

He groaned loudly, leaning up to press his mouth to yours, his tongue swirling around your own. It wasn’t even a kiss, his tongue swirling and shoving down your throat as he guided his cock in between your legs, pushing inside of you and swallowing the loud moan that left your mouth.

“Fucking hell, you feel so fucking good, I swear,” he basically growled against your lips, gasping as your nails dragged down his back. “Maybe it’s because you’re growing my child? Could that be it? You’re making me a daddy, gonna be the perfect fucking mother for our children?”

You nodded, mind blurry as you tried to focus on his voice, but the only thing you could think about was his dick. He was slow at first, his cock not foreign inside of you, but the faster his thrusts got, the more you couldn’t focus. “Yes!” You yelled out, the only thing you could even think about. Yes, I’ll be the perfect mother. Yes, I’ll raise your children, yes, yes, yes.

“Swear baby, if it’s going to make you like this, I’m going to keep you pregnant all the fucking time,” he groans, hips moving faster as your head tilted back, mouth lulled open and moans falling out, but your face was so fucked out it looked like you weren’t thinking of anything else but his cock, not even the words coming out of his mouth. “Look at you, baby. I love you darling, I do, but I fucking love when you get all cock obsessed for me. Are you cock obsessed, baby, dick drunk? Hm?”

Your head lulls, nodding as your nails dig into his shoulders, another orgasm close as you speak. “Yes. Yes, daddy, I’ll be pregnant all the time for you! I’ll stay here, ready to get fucked and bred, pumped full of cum to give you babies!”

It was words fully fueled of lust, the smell of sex in the air and the sounds of skin against skin slapping together echoing off the walls fueling both of your fucked out states. It was fully possible you didn’t even know what you were saying, only thinking about his cock, as you were successful all in your own, but there was the chance where you did know what you were talking about and you would sit here pumping babies out for him every nine months just for him to get you pregnant again and again as soon as you’re cleared.

The thought truly did sound fucking amazing. You both knew damn well he could provide for both of you and all of your children, no matter how many you both chose to have.

“Oh yeah, baby? You gonna be a good fucking cumslut, gonna be bred over and over again? Huh? Gonna keep you fucking pregnant, all while you be the perfect fucking mother for each and every one of our spoiled little brats that are going to fucking praise you like a goddess. Gonna fuck you over and over again, not gonna let any drop of cum spill out, keep all of my sperm inside of you so you can get pregnant over and over. You like that? Do you like the thought of having babies over and over again for me?”

His words easily tipped you over the edge, his cock ramming into you over and over again, fucking you like a fleshlight and using your abused hole to please you. The only thought in your mind was the unrealistic image of cum, his cum, spurting out of your cunt, tummy bulging like you were nine months pregnant just from his sperm and tits leaking breast milk that he would devour every minute of the day if he could.

Even if it was unrealistic, he would make it happen if you asked him to.

“Baby, you already came, you squirted all over my cock. What’s going on in that little fucked out brain of yours, hm? Tell me, it better not be the thought of anything other than my cock,” he grunted as he slammed his hips back into you, his hand pushing between the both of you to rub circles against your puffy clit. His other hand grabbed your chin, wiping the drool running down your chin as he forced you to look at him. “Hey baby, I’m right here. Look at me and tell me what you’re thinking about, tell your daddy what you’re thinking about as his cock fucks you so hard and his cum fills you up. Tell me!”

You screamed out, a broken noise leaving your lips as his thrusts get rougher, harder, his fists squeezing at your tits. “I want to stay pregnant for you, daddy! Want to be leaking with your cum every day, want milk to be inside my titles and for you to drink it every day, don’t care how many babies we have as long as you fuck me and fill me and get me pregnant! Want your babies, daddy, want all your cum!”

He lets out a loud, guttural groan into your neck, his hips faltering as he came inside of you, gasping for air as you pant above him. His hands shakily hold your hips, his lips turning soft against your skin as he rolled his hips gently, your hands stroking his back. You finally came down from your high, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

“I think… two kids is good.”

“Just two? Thought you wanted more,” he teased at first making you giggle, but he smiled gently at you and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “We can have as many as you want. I don’t care, as long as you’re their mother. You will be the best fucking momma, baby, the best mommy to those kids ever.”

You inhaled shakily, smiling up at him with tears running down your cheeks as you leaned up just enough to press a soft kiss to his lips. “And you’re going to be the best daddy. I promise.”

He smiled. “We’ll make amazing parents.”

“We will, Drew. Amazing fucking parents.”

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© asterias-record-shop

[rizlowwritessortof]

Remember Me - Part 3

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OC Michaela

Word Count: 2272

Warnings: None in Part 3, eventual smut

Dividers by @talesmaniac89

“Dean, I don’t understand why you’re in such a rush to get home. Michaela could use your help with the whole memories thing, and…”

“For fuck’s sake, Sammy, can you drop it already?” Dean reached for the radio and turned it off with an angry twist. Sam had been riding his ass for the last fifteen minutes and he was about to explode. “She needs to get back to her normal life, and the longer we hang around, the more fucked up she’s gonna get.”

“You’re running away.” Sam stared at his brother, that stubborn, accusing stare on his face that made Dean want to punch him.

“Fine. Whatever. You think what you want. I’m trying to do what’s best for her.”

“Since when do you get to decide what’s best for other people?”

“Since I’m the reason her life got fucked up to begin with. She deserves to have a life without monsters and angels and death waiting around every goddamn corner!”

“And your feelings for her have nothing to do with why you’re leaving.”

“Sam, if you don’t shut your pie hole, you’re gonna be walking back to Kansas.” Dean cranked the radio back on, too loud for further conversation, and Sam let out a frustrated sigh as he reached to moderate the volume. He shook his head, but gave up for the moment, turning to stare out the window. He had pushed as far as he dared to for the moment, but if Dean thought he was giving up, he was wrong. He wasn’t going to let this go.

They had stopped at Michaela’s place a couple of hours before they left town, and Sam had stayed mostly silent, observing her and Dean and their awkward interactions with each other. Sam had sensed something in the air between them, the conversation between the two of them was formal and uncomfortable, and Mikey had given them each an almost reluctant hug before they had left.

Dean hadn’t filled him in on much from the night he spent with her, except that she had remembered meeting Zachariah and how badly it had frightened her. But when he had returned to their motel room afterwards, he had been withdrawn and silent, responding to his questions with terse, vague answers and downing several whiskeys. He had barely spoken, focusing his attention on the laptop and then falling into bed by ten that night. And Sam had heard him tossing and turning, Mikey’s name mumbled in his sleep more than once.

Yeah, Dean could try to convince him he was doing this because it was best for Mikey – but that was bullshit.

Mikey forced herself to get up the next morning and go to work. Just get back into the routine, and everything will get back to normal, she told herself.

Except for the dreams. The memories that were coming back to haunt her, some bloody and a little frightening, but most were just what she guessed had been their normal life. Dean helping her in the kitchen, laughter and teasing; riding in the Impala, sometimes in the back seat with Sam and Dean in front, and sometimes in front with Dean, his arm draped around her shoulders; conversations with the Winchesters and an older man with a beard, Bobby, that she apparently had been very fond of in that time. And all of it laced through with love and affection right along with the monsters and horror.

With everything that had happened and the knowledge that the life she was living had been manufactured for her by Zachariah, she was aching for the ‘normal’ of the past that was slowly coming back to her, the memories vivid and full of life and adventure. In comparison, her life seemed colorless, monotonous.

She called Dean a few times, but he always seemed busy - polite, but distant, and she couldn’t say it didn’t sting. “Look, I know it’s been crazy,” he’d say, “but you’re better off, you’re safe. No supernatural bullshit to deal with.”

Maybe he was right. Maybe she was just meant to live a mundane existence and leave the past in the past. He obviously was. Or he didn’t want to deal with her drama. But the dreams, the memories kept coming, almost every night, and those feelings seemed as fresh and real to her now as they had then. So how was she supposed to just let it go? She forced herself to keep going, and several weeks went by, but she still felt the same restlessness, the same unhappiness with – well, with everything.

After she woke one morning sobbing into her pillow, she gave up on trying to be self-reliant and called Dean’s number. She had waited until she showered and calmed herself down, but the dream-memory had been gut-wrenching, Sam and Bobby telling her Dean was dead and had been dragged to hell. How was she supposed to deal with that? She hung up when his voice mail picked up, but called him again right away, and finally she heard the call connect.

“Hello? Michaela? Hey, it’s Sam.”

“Sam? I was trying… I – I just needed to talk to someone about…” She trailed off. “I’m sorry. I’ve been trying not to call. I know I’m driving him crazy.”

“You’re not, Mikey. Honestly, I think he’s having a hard time with all of this, too, even though he won’t really talk about it. But if you need to talk, you can call me, too, any time.” Sam could hear her blow out a shaky breath, trying to stay in control.

“I can’t keep doing this, Sam. My whole life feels surreal, like I’m in the damn matrix or something, like none of it is really – real. I’m losing my mind here.” There was dead silence for a moment, then she heard Dean’s voice.

“Hey, Mikey.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah, sorry, I was in the shower. I heard what you said.” She heard him sigh. “I’m sorry, I thought putting some distance between us would help, but apparently I was wrong about that.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Listen, why don’t you take some time off, come down for a visit. Maybe we can try to fill in the blanks, help you make sense of the memories that are coming back.”

“I don’t want to invade your space...”

“There’s plenty of room here, Mikey.” Sam spoke up. “But there’s a motel in town, if you’d rather stay there, whatever you’re comfortable with. We’re just outside of Lebanon, Kansas.”

“Thank you. Thank you both. I just – I need to understand the past before I can move on, I think.”

Dean sounded softer than he had since leaving Ohio. “We’ll do our best to help. Just give us a call when you hit town and we’ll give you directions to get here.”

A few days later she arrived, and after a tour of the bunker, they got her settled into one of the many rooms. “You let us know when you’re ready to talk, and we’ll grab some beers and dig in,” Dean said with a vague smile, then left her to unpack.

He made his way back to the library where Sam sat, laptop open in front of him. “Is she doing okay?”

Dean nodded. “I think so. I still don’t know if this is a good idea.”

Sam looked up. “Does she know you’re having dreams, too?”

Dean’s jaw twitched a little as he sent a surly glance Sam’s direction. “No. How would that help?”

“If this is going to work, you need to be honest with her, Dean. The only way you two are gonna get past all this is to be honest with each other.”

“Because you’re an expert on erased memories and how to deal with ‘em.”

“I’m not an expert, but I know you both have feelings for each other that have never been resolved, Dean. They’re not just going to disappear. And just because you don’t want them to be there, doesn’t mean they aren’t there.”

“And how the fuck do you know if I have feelings or not?”

“Because I’ve heard you when you’re dreaming. I’ve heard you say her name, and I’ve heard how you say her name.”

“Invasion of privacy, Sam.” He stalked off towards the kitchen, and Sam rolled his eyes, returning to what he had been reading on his laptop.

Dean grabbed a beer from the fridge, still fuming at his brother’s words. And the fact that it was true made it that much worse. He’d been dreaming of Mikey ever since they’d gotten home, a few times involving hunting with her, or riding with her in Baby. But most of the time he woke still hearing her moan his name as she came, feeling her soft skin beneath his hands or his cock buried deep inside her. He tried to tell himself the feelings he was fighting were just echoes from the past, but that was getting harder each time it happened.

She was better off miles away from him and from the life he lived. She was out, and hard experience told him she would live much longer if she stayed out. How he felt didn’t matter. He took several swallows from his beer, trying to wash down the lies he was telling himself.

Mikey came out of her room a couple of hours later, still feeling awkward and self-conscious, but she couldn’t stay in there forever. She managed to make her way to the library, where the brothers were just setting out plates for the pizza Sam had just returned with. Dean smiled and held up a beer with a questioning brow, and she nodded, heading for a chair and taking a seat as he set the cold brew in front of her. “Pepperoni and veggie, whichever you like,” he said, taking a seat across from her and beside his brother.

“Sounds great, I’m starving,” she said, helping herself to a slice of each.

They just chatted as they ate, and she was much more relaxed by the time they finished. Dean fetched them each another beer and settled back in his chair, his eyes on Mikey. “So – when you called the other day, you sounded pretty upset.”

She nodded. “I was. I dreamed that Sam and the older guy you told me was Bobby were coming to tell me that you were dead. That you got dragged to hell by a hellhound. I woke up crying.”

Dean dropped his head, staring at the table as he nodded. “Yeah. Understandable.”

“So maybe we should just kind of fill you in on our history. If you have any questions, you can just jump in,” Sam said softly, and Mikey nodded in agreement.

A couple of hours and a couple more beers later, they had gone over everything up to the point Mikey had been taken by the angels, and several of her questions had been answered. At least now if she had a dream about something unfamiliar, she’d be able to fit it in with events they had told her about.

She curled up in bed that night, wondering what came next. Now that the Winchesters had given her the missing pieces that helped her make sense of her memories, there wasn’t really a reason to stay. And even though Dean had been nothing but kind, he still kept his distance, and she knew he wouldn’t relax until she was gone. She rolled to her back, staring at the ceiling. It was clear that he wanted their relationship left in the past.

She got up after trying unsuccessfully to fall asleep for almost two hours, throwing an oversized button-down shirt over her tank top and sleep shorts and heading for the kitchen for a bottle of water. She had just started down the hall when Dean’s voice, shouting her name, made her jump and turn back, rushing towards his bedroom door.

She hesitated for a second, then opened his door, walking in to find him standing beside his bed, his eyes a little wild. She approached him, reaching out to touch his hand, and he focused his stare on her before letting his eyes drift closed. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, his chest heaving, then kissed her so desperately that she was dizzy when he stopped. “I couldn’t find you. You were just gone.”

“It’s okay, Dean, I’m here. It was a dream.” She could feel his heart pounding, and he took a couple of deep breaths before he took hold of her shoulders and moved her back a step.

“Sorry.” He moved away from her, dragging a hand over his face. “Seemed so real.”

“The memory of when I was taken?”

He nodded. “Yeah, it had to be.” He turned to look at her. “No wonder your dreams freaked you out if they’ve all been that intense.”

“Yes, the memories of big events have been.” She moved closer to him, putting a hand on his arm. “Is this the first one you’ve had?”

Dean exhaled sharply and shook his head. “No. But this is the only one I’ve had that’s been like this. Mostly they’re just – of you and me.”

Mikey nodded. “Yeah – I’ve had a lot of those.” She reached up to put a hand to his face. “Dean, I…”

“Mikey, you should go.” He stepped away from her, moving to sit on his bed, his eyes focused on the floor.

Tears stung her eyes as she walked to the door. “Goodnight, Dean,” she said softly before closing it behind her.

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[livsoulsecrets]

Francesca&Benedict Fic

@fandom-free-bingo Prompt from Pride Edition Prompt: Hearts before parts

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: Discussion of internalized homophobia and period-typical homophobia

Summary: When Benedict accidentally finds out about Francesca and Michaela’s relationship, she fears he will turn away from her. Benedict comforts her the best way he can.

“For so long, I thought there weren’t others like me. I believed something was fundamentally wrong with me. Like a piece of my soul was missing,” she confessed.

Benedict’s face contorted into a painful grimace. “Oh, dear. You couldn’t be more complete if you tried. The human nature is vast, as I’ve learned. Do not trap your heart in a cage others have built for you.”

Read on AO3.

When she was eleven, Francesca once spent an entire afternoon attempting to count exactly how many cobblestones made up the entrance to the Bridgerton house.

She had crouched down, watching the floor closely as she tried not to lose count. Her mom had found her just like that, with her pristine beige dress turned dark brown by the dirt and her tiny hands dancing over the stones as she mumbled numbers over her breath.

In that exact moment, she would have preferred to be back in her home’s entryway, knees scratching against the hard floor, rather than having this conversation with Benedict.

Her brother cleared his throat.

“I’m so sorry, Francesca,” he started. “I did not mean to pry. I believed you were alone when I walked in. I truly only meant to call you downstairs for tea.”

Francesca remained silent, her face growing even hotter at each word out of Benedict’s mouth.

“I did not know Michaela was here and that the two of you were… Preoccupied.”

Francesca hid her face behind her hands, avoiding Benedict’s gaze.

“I shall let you know I have seen Anthony and Colin in much worse predicaments.”

“That is not helpful in the slightest,” she finally said.

She heard Benedict pull a chair to sit closer to her. Francesca could feel his eyes burning into her.

“You must not tell anyone what you saw, Benedict,” she begged, stealing a glance at her brother through the crack of her fingers.

He nodded emphatically. “Of course. I will not say a word to anyone.”

Very slowly, she lowered her hands. “You will not?”

He nodded in response.

“Not even Mama?”

Benedict smiled—his troublesome, crooked grin. “Have I ever told her a secret you asked me to keep before? To this day, she does not know who broke our great-aunt Cynthia’s vase.”

He then pressed a hand to his heart and said earnestly, “May she rest in peace.”

Francesca smiled sheepishly. She didn’t know how to feel about Benedict’s reaction—or lack thereof—after he accidentally witnessed her and Michaela exchanging a kiss, but he somehow managed to make her feel at ease once more.

Francesca willed her hands to stop shaking and gathered her courage to ask, “Are you mad at me?”

Benedict’s eyes widened, and he shook his head immediately. “I can assure you, I’m not.”

She continued as if he had said nothing at all. “You constantly hide behind your charm and wit to avoid conflict. If you wish to share your disagreement, I would rather you do it now rather than pretend all is fine.”

Benedict sighed heavily. “I am not pretending, by any means. I swear.”

She blinked a few times, attempting to stop any tears from escaping. “I do not understand. I recall the way you looked at me when you realized what was happening—like you did not even know who I was.”

“That is not what it was. Not even remotely, Francesca.”

“Then, what was it?”

Benedict remained uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, his body completely still. It was a sight so completely opposed to all her brother represented that it scared her.

“I was merely surprised, sister.” He said finally, releasing a deep breath. “I simply did not expect there to be someone else like me in the family.”

“Someone like you?” She echoed, dizzy with shock. “You are also…”

Benedict cringed at the approach of such a sensitive topic with his own sister, clearly at a loss for words, but her brother was nothing if not stubborn.

He straightened up and pondered for a moment before continuing to talk.

“You see, it took me a long time to fully grasp it, but I came to realize I value one’s heart more than their… Parts, for the lack of a better word.”

He understood how difficult it was to face that journey alone. Perhaps that was why he powered through this difficult conversation, despite the unspoken rules that forbade them from ever doing so.

“It was a very lonely and sometimes terrifying journey. But I had a good friend who was willing to help me through it. I would like to be that friend for you now, my sister. For you shall not fear; there is not a thing wrong with you.”

“You promise?” She whispered.

Francesca felt like an annoying and devoted little sister again, looking up at Benedict and firmly believing he had all the answers in the world.

Benedict smiled, and for a second, he looked every bit like the big brother she remembered picking her up off the floor to twirl around the room. “I promise.”

“For so long, I thought there weren’t others like me. I believed something was fundamentally wrong with me. Like a piece of my soul was missing,” she confessed.

Benedict’s face contorted into a painful grimace. “Oh, dear. You couldn’t be more complete if you tried. The human nature is vast, as I’ve learned. Do not trap your heart in a cage others have built for you.”

“But it is not safe,” she countered. “I feel like I cannot breathe around the fear of what others could do to us if they knew. My life would lose its meaning if I let her go, and my life would end if my love for her was found out. I can’t win either way.”

“I fear I am not able to negate that. The world is cruel to those like us, and living in secret remains the most secure alternative. However, you do not need to hide from me any longer. I will share the burden of this secret with you, as you will share mine.”

He held out his hand for her, palm up. A silent gesture of faith.

“Can you trust that this will be of some help?”

Francesca took the hand he offered.

“I sure can, brother.”

They were no longer alone in their journey—no longer struggling to keep crucial parts of themselves from each other. Francesca couldn’t picture a greater gift.

“We will both be just fine, sister,” Benedict reassured her, his thumb tracing circles across her hand.

She believed him at last.

[tabbyrp]

Day 4

@tangleweave

There was something wholly uncivilized about aliens attacking on Halloween. In typical New Yorker fashion, when millions of phones rang out with the emergency alert, the collective response was a mix of rude gestures towards the sky and grumbling searches for shelter. Deep within the network of subway tunnels, all trains came to a grinding halt.

Amid a chorus of groans on the A train, Tabby pulled out her cell phone. Barely half a bar. She quickly texted to report she was safe but stuck, hoping the message would get through. Beside her sat a preschooler in full regal regalia perched on her mom’s lap, and a middle-aged businessman still tapping away on his laptop. “It’s just tribbitites,” he said casually. “I doubt they’ll even call in The Avengers for it.”

Tabby’s phone pinged with a voice note. By some miracle of the 5G gods it downloaded, and she popped in a headphone to listen. Gordon Gecko was only half right about the situation up to but that wasn’t for her to pass on. Instead, she tugged her white dress back down to mid-thigh and settled in to wait.

“Are you a real angel?”

The little girl in the next seat reached for the aging feathers on Tabby’s back, chubby fingers too young to tell the difference between plastic and real down. Her tired mother began to shush the child, but Tabby gave a subtle shake of her head, signalling the question was okay.

“No, kiddo, I’m afraid not. But you look like an amazing princess.”

“Thank you.” Sensing weakness, the girl stuck out her neon-orange pumpkin bucket. “Trick or treat.”

Down the bottom of her purse, Tabby found a couple of crumpled up dollar bills that she dropped into the container. Then, with nothing else to do and the mother’s blessing, she took Princess Michaela through the carriage. There wasn’t much candy to be had but more money landed in the pumpkin. Some people donated parts of their costume, cheap rings and bracelets turning into glittering treasures. One guy dressed as Spider-Man apologized for not having pockets and offered a fist-bump instead.

Hours later, Michaela was fast asleep in her mother’s lap. The subway lights had dimmed to a dull, red-tinted emergency mode. Cell service had vanished after an explosion rumbled overhead, shaking everything side to side. Tabby had reassured the few tourists stuck in the train that everything would be fine, cracking jokes until calm settled over the carriage once more.

She was scrolling through her camera roll, the same face repeated over and over, when a loud knock rapped against the train window.

Everyone jolted upright. At least one person screamed.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Several phone lights swung toward the voice, revealing large opaque eyes set in a mask of red and gloved hands pressed to the glass. “Just your friendly MTA Spider-Man here to escort you to your next stop.”

With the power still out, that meant forcing the doors open with a dull screech and having passengers climb out one by one, the local web slinger helping them down.

The princess received a bow. The guy dressed as Spider-Man for Halloween got his second fist bump of the night and everyone pretended he didn’t squeal with excitement after.

Tabby waited to be the last one before disembarking. She had half a foot on the train step when Spider-Man stepped back instead of assisting, shaking his head and waggling a finger. “Gotta ask first, ma’am. That guy you were staring at on your phone, he your boyfriend or something?”

“Or something,” Tabby retorted with a smile. “So, if you thought turning up like a big damn hero after fighting toad men was gonna make this angel fall for you….” Taking hold of the handrail, she pirouetted on the step and pretended to drop into a swoon.

Their voices barely carried down the tunnel, and only one person glanced back to witness Spider-Man take the young woman firmly by the waist, then her arms lingering around his shoulders long after feet were on solid ground.

“Mom.” Michaela mumbled, rubbing her eyes with a small fist. “Can I be a superhero next year?’

Her mother stopped looking over her shoulder and adjusted the child on her hip. “Sure baby.”

Travelling through the shadows, Spider-Man swung on a web, landing at the head of the group to lead them toward the exit.

If he happened to be carrying an angel with him, well, that sure wasn’t any of her business.

[bejeweled-wahlberg]

⚠️CUSS WARNING⚠️

Varina: so tell me who your dads are again

London: well my dad is Logan Henderson from big time rush

Kristy: my dad is Chris which you already know

Marissa: my dad is Martin in which you also know

Varina: yeah Ik but what about michaela

Michaela: My dad is Michael *mumbles jackson*

Varina: Michael what Jordan,Johnson

Michaela: MICHAEL MOTHAFUCKIN JACKSON OKAY!

Varina: Your dad is the king of pop👁👄👁

Varina belongs to: @jokerislandgirl32

[starsandsunkissed]

Take Two (Part 3/6)

Summary: After a tragic car accident, Michaela Bolaca is uprooted from her home on the East Coast and moved to South Park, Colorado, to live with her maternal aunt's family, the Blacks. But being the New Kid is rough at the best of times in the best of places. In South Park? Well, as long as she keeps her head down, she should be fine...right?

Starts a few weeks before season 7, episode 1. First Person POV.

~•~

Take Two, part 1/6: https://www.tumblr.com/starsandsunkissed/745256166729367552/take-two-chapter-1-starsandsunkissed-south?source=share

/ Take Two, Part 2/6: https://www.tumblr.com/starsandsunkissed/745256412778774528/take-two-chapter-1-starsandsunkissed-south?source=share

~•~

"Alright then Mickey," Mr. Garrison mumbled as he began to look around his classroom. "Why don't you go and sit over there next to Cartman—"

I winced again. Was that the same Eric Cartman that Tolkien warned me about?

A boy with a green hat immediately shot his hand up in the air, cutting him off.

"Uh, yes Kyle?"

"She can sit next to me Mr. Garrison, I have an empty seat here and if she sat next to fat ass he would squish her."

"Hey! Don't call me fat you goddamn Jew!"

I blinked. What the heck?

Mr. Garrison sighed. Was this normal around here? "Fine. Mickey, go sit next to Kyle so we can start the lesson."

Nodding, I obediently made my way towards the empty desk. As Mr. Garrison began to teach us about math I'd already mastered, the boy named Kyle gave me a welcoming smile.

"Hi, I'm Kyle."

"Hi Kyle, I'm Mickey."

I opened my backpack to get my notebook and pencil box, thinking that would be the end of it, but he soon spoke again.

"So where'd you move from?"

"The East Coast," I decided. "I'm still getting used to living with Tolkien's family."

"You live at Tolkien's house?"

I nodded. "They're thinking of adopting me," I said, keeping it vague. I didn't want to cause problems for Tolkien, after all.

"That's cool," he said with a smile.

The morning passed without much fuss. I thought school was hard back home, but here, it was downright easy. My mom always said coastal areas had better standards. I guess she was right.

Soon the bell rang for lunch.

"Could you please tell me where the cafeteria is?" I asked Kyle when I couldn't see my cousin. "Tolkien was supposed to show me, but I think one of the other guys needed him for something."

"Oh yeah sure. So the cafeteria is this way," he gestured to the left, "and most of the other classrooms are that way."

I gave a smile. "Awesome, thanks. Is the food any good?"

Kyle shrugged. "It's okay, I guess."

I nodded. Packing lunch it was, then. "So where does everyone sit?"

"Usually, the guys and girls sit apart," said Kyle, "but I guess you can sit with us." He paused. "If you and Tolkien are cool with it."

"That'd be great, and it'd be nice to see some friendly faces."

"I wouldn't call Cartman a friendly face," he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing," he said. "Just... there's one kid that kind of—no, scratch that, a total asshole."

"Is it the same Cartman that was calling you names earlier? Tolkien told me about him. I'd rather stay off his radar for now. I think Tolkien is sitting with Craig and those other guys today, so I'll join them."

Kyle looked disappointed but understood. "Okay."

We parted ways at the entrance. There were inspirational posters hung up across the walls: "Lettuce love one another!", "Fruits are fun", "Peas be seated, students!" It felt like all eyes were on me, even though in reality, no one gave a crap about the new girl. Everyone was either seated with their packed lunches or buying some.

As I was making my way over to the lunch line, I already knew where I'd be sitting. I saw Tolkien and Craig already seated, so that was one less thing to worry about.

~•~

Take Two, Part 4/6:

https://www.tumblr.com/starsandsunkissed/745257495784783872/take-two-chapter-1-starsandsunkissed-south?source=share

[erijonarexhepis-blog]

ARE YOU THE MOLE?

SEASON SIX, EPISODE NINE

Masterlist

"I CAN'T FIND MY KEYS," Michaela complained. April, who was standing the closest to her, turned to look at her.

"They're in your hands." Michaela chuckled when she looked down and saw that she was holding them. They were wearing their graduation gowns and caps.

"Hello, is the FBI in there?" Connor called out.

Michaela finally managed to unlock the door. "That joke wasn't funny the first time," she told Connor, annoyed.

Michaela opened the door. "Everyone chug," Asher said. He gave the orange juice to April as they walked in. They were hoping the organs juice would sober them up— they were high.

"Why do we want this feeling to end?" Oliver walked in last and closed the door. They were carrying grocery bags.

"I just want to feel normal," Michaela muttered, taking the orange juice from April. Her phone started ringing.

"FBI?" Connor asked. He was no different now than when he was sober, except now he was thinking out loud.

"Unknown caller."

"Maybe it's Peyton ready for round 2." They went to the kitchen. Michaela declined the call.

"April did give Peyton my number instead of her own." Michaela looked over at April with a slight glare.

April was sitting by the counter. She shrugged. "She's lucky I didn't knock out her fake teeth."

"Only 'cause I stopped you," Asher said.

"Can we talk about what happened right after that?" Oliver asked. He was the most out of it.

"No," Michaela deadpanned.

"Why don't you just say yes?"

"I'm high, not insane."

"Ouch," Connor muttered. Michaela's phone started ringing again.

Michaela looked at her phone. "Now they're FaceTiming me." They all glanced at each other, wondering who this could be. "I'm just gonna answer."

Connor stepped forward. "Michaela, no."

But Michaela didn't listen. And she answered the call. "Hello?" The phone was glitching. The rest gathered to see who this person was.

They were shocked when the phone stopped glitching, and a face appeared. "It's me, Michaela."

"Laurel?!"

"Oh, my god," Connor mumbled.

"Are we hallucinating?" Oliver questioned.

They hadn't seen Laurel in a very long time, and she was calling. "Just— okay, listen."

"Are you the mole?"

"No! It wasn't me, I swear," she told Michaela. "I would never turn you guys in, okay? But, obviously, someone else did."

REWIND; 10:03 am

"You're all wondering why I called you here today," Annalise started. Her students on their seats, paying attention. "You passed your final exam. Tomorrow, you graduate. But I had to say something before we part way for good."

"I know that you all ask yourselves why I'm still here, teaching, considering the hot mess my life has been the last three years. Well, the answer is simple— you."

"No one should be falsely accused of crimes they didn't commit. But it happens to people far worse off than me. And here's where you come in. I teach so that some of you will make sure that the Justice system lives up to its name. Even though I know that most of you will sell out and do corporate, some of you— the brave ones— will forge your own path, a path that doesn't put money or greed or glory first, but your clients."

"So think hard about who you want to be because, in 24 hours, you graduate, and you'll be free of me... free from Middleton... free from your families. So, whoever you decide to be, make yourself proud."

"That was a drunk speech," Connor muttered. They entered the house.

"Yeah," Michaela agreed. "That was a get lost and be nothing like me because my life's a huge disaster speech."

"Annalise gave a speech?" Oliver asked. He was sitting on the couch in the living room.

"Yeah," Connor replied. "She basically told us to go out into the world and be good people."

"Drunk speech," April added. "A good drunk speech."

"On that note, I have gifts." Oliver handed each of them a small box.

"Oooh! Tiny puppies?" Asher gushed.

"No. It's better. Open up."

April opened her gift, and she was surprised by what she saw, especially because it was from Oliver. "Wow," she chuckled. "I was not expecting this."

"What is it?" Michaela asked, confused.

"Are we taking a cooking class, Oli?" Asher asked Oliver.

"They're shrooms," Connor stated.

"They're psilocybin mushrooms that can heal psychic wounds— you know, like, from the last three years," Oliver informed.

"Or unlock all of the deeds that we've worked very hard to bury."

"Okay, which is it?" Michaela asked, glancing between Oliver and Asher.

"Asher's wrong. I'm right. It'll be fun...gi." Oliver chuckled at his own joke.

Connor didn't seem to like the idea. "We're supposed to meet my mom for dinner soon."

"I texted her and told her I was taking you out for dinner, and she should just meets us here tomorrow before the ceremony."

"Looks like you've got it all covered," April said. She was holding the mushroom. "Are we doing this or what?"

"Yes, that's the spirit!" Oliver cheered.

"Screw it!" Michaela declared, wanting to do it as well.

"Yeah, what the hell?" Connor mumbled. A little wouldn't hurt.

"Bon voyage."

꧁ ꧂

"YOU CAN'T FIND HER?" Michaela was standing with her arms crossed, gazing at Bonnie and Frank. They were all in the living room of the house.

"She went to the dean's party," Frank replied.

"Or she took off," Connor muttered. He went to stand next to April.

Bonnie seemed frustrated, and they couldn't really blame her for that. "Annalise is the one with her name spread all over the news. If anyone gets to panic here, it's her."

"How do we know she's not the informant?"

Frank quickly shut the idea down. "Shut the hell up." He knew Annalise more than the students did.

"She gave a cheesy goodbye speech this morning."

"This could be anyone." Frank was not happy that Connor was trying to put the blame on Annalise. "Xavier's making crap up."

"Gabriel?" Michaela asked.

"One of you?" Bonnie shot back.

"It's obvious who it is," Asher spoke up. "Laurel." Frank narrows his eyes at him.

Oliver let out a laugh, quickly covering his mouth with his hands. They all looked at him. "Oliver," April scolded him.

"I'm sorry," Oliver laughed. "I know it's not funny."

Frank frowned. "What's wrong with him?" He pointed at Oliver.

"He took mushrooms," Connor stated.

"We all did," April added.

Frank gave them a look of disapproval. "Morons."

"They're not working on the rest of us," Connor said in an attempt to defend himself.

Michaela was holding her head. "Not true." She sighed. "Oh, no. I think the panic sped up the digestion, and, yeah, it's working." She took a seat. "And I don't like it. I don't like it at all. I hate you, Oliver."

Oliver was still laughing. "Just— stay here," Frank ordered them and turned to leave with Bonnie.

April followed them to the door. "Why didn't you guys tell me about Miller?" She could feel the mushroom starting to take effect.

Frank and Bonnie glanced at each other. "You've been through enough already," she told April.

"What's done is done," Frank added. "Go back to your friends." He then left along with Bonnie.

꧁ ꧂

"ALRIGHT. BUDDY SYSTEM. No man left behind." Asher waved his arm, letting the other walk past him in the aisle. They were at the store, looking for something sweet to eat.

April and Michaela were looking for candy. "This." April grabbed a small bag of sweets. "My favorite." She smiled brightly as she opened it right there.

Michaela laughed as she watched April struggle with opening the bag. "Aren't you supposed to be a genius?"

April laughed with her. "I am?" The laughter soon died down.

"Oh, my god." April and Michaela straightened up and saw Peyton standing there. She looked surprised to see them.

"Oh, my god," April mocked her.

"Sorry, I just... well, I thought you all might be somewhere else," Peyton explained with a shrug. "Like jail."

April gave a fake chuckle, approaching Peyton. "For what?" Her smile dropped. "For beating your ass?"

"Hey, there's no need for that." Asher pulled April back. "We're all friends here."

Peyton ignored Asher. "I'll tell Gabriel you said hi." She turned and left.

April growled and stepped toward her but was stopped by Asher. "Okay. No, no, no. We're not doing that." He pulled her back to the group, and she started eating her candy again, calming down.

"I'm high, not insane."

"Ouch," Connor muttered. Michaela's phone started ringing again.

Michaela looked at her phone. "Now they're FaceTiming me." They all glanced at each other, wondering who this could be. "I'm just gonna answer."

Connor stepped forward. "Michaela, no."

But Michaela didn't listen. And she answered the call. "Hello?" The phone was glitching. The rest gathered to see who this person was.

They were shocked when the phone stopped glitching and a face appeared. "It's me, Michaela."

"Laurel?!"

"Oh, my god," Connor mumbled.

"Are we hallucinating?" Oliver questioned.

They hadn't seen Laurel in a very long time, and she was calling. "Just— okay, listen."

"Are you the mole?"

"No! It wasn't me, I swear," she told Michaela. "I would never turn you guys in, okay? But, obviously, someone else did."

"How do you know about any of this?"

"I saw the news."

"How?" Asher asked, still shocked. "W-where are you?"

"Listen, I can't say in case my brother's listening."

"Laurel, you ruined our lives."

"I'm sorry, okay?" Laurel told Michaela. "But someone who knows everything turned on you. And I swear on Christopher's life, it wasn't me."

Oliver was unsure. "How do we know that Christopher's still alive?"

"He's right here." Laurel pinned the camera down, revealing Christopher.

"Oh, my god," Michaela muttered under her breath. Laurel put the camera back on herself again.

"How do we know that the FBI didn't put you up to this?" Connor questioned.

"They didn't."

"But they're who helped you disappear, right? Y-you're in witness protection?"

"No."

"Christopher didn't crawl out of this house on his own. Someone had to help you do all this."

"I did," April stated. They turned to her, shocked by the revelation. "Tegan and I helped Laurel disappear."

"It's true," Laurel told them. "They helped me. And I'm not the informant, I swear. Okay?"

"We don't believe you!" Connor snapped at her.

"I love you all." Laurel hung up.

"Tegan's not answering." Michaela put her phone away.

"Maybe she's the mole," Asher stated. "Or Laurel."

"It's not Laurel," April told him, starting to get annoyed by that theory. She had always been loyal.

"It's probably Annalise," Connor said. "The goodbye speech, the whole Snow White and the murderous dwarfs exam. It's her. She's the informant."

"It doesn't make any sense," April argued. "I mean, everything would lead back to her. It would make her a bigger suspect to the police and the FBI."

"It makes more sense that it's Tegan," Asher said, somewhat siding with April. "Or Gabriel. Or your mom," he said to April.

"Gabriel doesn't know anything."

"Neither does my mom," April added after Connor. She was looking at Asher, just like Michaela was. They both thought he was acting weird.

"It's Annalise," Connor went back to that. "She's doing what she should've done the night with Sam."

"Fine," Asher gave in. "Maybe you're right," he told Connor. "Maybe it's AK."

"It's not Annalise," April stated. She was staring at Asher. "But you knew that."

Michaela spoke up, siding with April. "It's why you didn't take the mushrooms. You were probably scared you'd reveal something."

"It's not me," Asher insisted.

Connor seemed to believe April and Michaela. "You do keep pointing your finger at everyone else."

"This is how these stupid leaks work. They get us all paranoid, so we turn on each other. And then all the hard work we did to have each other's backs, to be loyal, to trust each other— that goes out the window the second we all turn on our own, okay? We're family. You're my family. I would never... I wouldn't...," he trails off.

April crossed her arms. "Tell us the truth, Asher." Michaela seemed especially hurt by this. She was tearing up knowing one of her closest friends turned on her. "It's you."

Asher seemed regretful. Taking his time to answer because he knew how they would react. They were not going to trust him anymore. He ruined the relationship he had with the people closest to him. "Yeah," he breathed out— confirming their theory.

"And I know that Karen has been working with them too. That's why she was released early. Look, the good thing is, I-I haven't given the FBI anything concrete yet," Asher cried.

April looked at him, feeling betrayed. And maybe that was why she was tearing up, or perhaps it was the mushrooms. She didn't know, but the feeling of betrayal or overwhelming.

"That's— that's why they haven't arrested any of us. Everything we saw on the news about— about them thinking that more than one person was involved in Sam's murder? That's all stuff that they suspected before. I promise, I never got anyone on record saying anything—" Asher was cut off mid-sentence when he was hit in the back of the head with a fire poker. This knocked him unconscious— his body fell to the ground.

"Why did you do that?" Michaela asked, freaked out. Oliver was standing by Asher with the fire poker in his hand.

"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know."

"Someone check if he's dead."

April kneeled next to Asher and checked his pulse. "He's fine." He was bleeding from his head. She was keeping an eye on him, trying to ignore the arguing coming from the other three in the room.

"Guys!" April interrupted their bickering when she noticed Asher opening his eyes.

Michaela kneeled next to him. "Asher?" Oliver kept apologizing for what he did. "Are you okay?"

Asher blinked a few times, adjusting to the light. "I'm calling an ambulance."

"No, no, no, no," Asher protested. "I'm good." He touched the back of his head. His hand got stained with blood, and he wiped it on his shirt.

"Get a towel," Michaela told Connor, who left to get one. "It's probably a scalp wound. Those— those bleed a lot."

April got up. "Excuse me," she mumbled before leaving the house.

Connor and Michaela walked out to the porch and saw April sitting there alone. She looked calmer, and the mushrooms had almost passed through her system. They sat next to her.

"Maybe he's right," Connor said after a brief pause.

"You think so?"

"What choice do we have?"

"I'm not making this decision on shrooms."

April then spoke up. "We have at least two hours before we have to line up."

Connor and Michaela turned to her. He looked at her with a frown, not understanding why she was bringing that up after what happened with Asher. "Are you kidding me?"

April turned to them. "I don't know about you, but I'm graduating."

Michaela nodded, siding with April. "Me too. That's who I am— a brilliant, come-from-nothing badass boss who's not going to let some stupid boy or the FBI get in her formidable way."

"Asher?!" They heard Oliver yell. The three got up and went back inside, wondering what was happening. "Asher?!"

"Where is he?" Michaela asked, running over to Oliver.

"I went to get a fresh towel, and he's gone," Oliver explained. The back door was open.

Oliver had cleaned the floor. "See? Clean as a whistle, like it never happened."

"It happened."

Michaela made her way down the stairs. "We're not talking about that today." 

"Right." Oliver looked at his friends, who were all ready to graduate. "You look great."

"We look like ass," Connor deadpanned.

"Looking like ass is better than not graduating at all," April stated. She was sitting on the couch, still thinking about Asher. She looked tired. There was a knock on the door. "Great."

"Pam's early. Twenty bucks says her first question is where is Asher?" Connor went to answer the door, and it was not Pam.

"Are you Connor Walsh?" The woman at the door asked. April went and stood next to Oliver and Michaela.

"Yeah."

The woman walked past him with two men behind her. "Michaela Pratt and April Coleman?"

April and Michaela glanced at each other confused. "Yes," they replied.

"You three are under arrest for murder." The students started arguing with them— why were they under arrest? Why was this happening now?

The woman put cuffs on April— Connor and Michaela were also being handcuffed. "Wait! Who died?!" April demanded. She looked the woman dead in the eyes.

"Asher Millstone," the woman answered. The answer shocked them. Asher left the house alive, so why were they being arrested? April was speechless.

"This is a big misunderstanding!" Oliver called out after them. The students were dragged out of the house by the agent and the officers.

꧁ ꧂

FLASH FORWARD

There was memorial service sometime in the future, and there was a big crowd. A woman was standing in front of them, sharing kind words about the departed. A man, who resembled Wes to a T, made his way through the crowd. He wanted to be at the front and perhaps share a few words.

[lcstkiss]

i have to say something that absolutely Sets My Heart Aflame about laurie in little women is the way he just..... watches jo and her sisters exist. he leaves space for them rather than dominating and just absorbs the way they light and warm up a room and the lives they inhabit and touch. he loves them BECAUSE of who they are and how they exist and literally,,, when do male characters EVER. yes i am crying again

[satanic-hairbow]

school is almost over which means i can finally be productive again

[dyke-bars-never-last]

Confess.

Confess...

The blog sapphicconfession just reminds me of what Michaela Coel said about her experience in drama school:

"but I accidentally ended up becoming best friends with some of them

and learning from

these other kind of misfits

yes

homosexual bonds replaced biblical ones."

[rizlowwritessortof]

Remember Me - Part 5

Michaela’s mundane life takes a strange turn when she has a random encounter with a very attractive stranger in her local bar. It must be déjà vu – or maybe it isn’t.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OC Michaela

Word Count: 4438

Warnings: There be smut here 😉

Dividers by @talesmaniac89

“Yes, Dean, I’ll pick up the pizza before I head out. Okay, and some licorice, and yes, I’ve got the popcorn,” Mikey responded to Dean’s requests with amusement. “Anything else, sir?” She laughed at the raspberry she got in return. “Okay, I’m on my way. Better have some cold beer, mister.”

She had settled into a friendly give and take with the brothers, occasionally meeting for drinks in town, and this was their second movie night at the bunker. The awkward stress between her and Dean had given way to a playful friendship with an edge of sexual tension that neither of them would acknowledge, and Sam had become the friend and confidant that she had never had before – at least not that she could remember.

Sam met her at the door and relieved her of some of the things she was carrying before they headed down the stairs. “Where’s Dean?” she asked as they dropped everything on the table.

“Oh, he’s waiting for you with a surprise – follow me,” Sam grinned, leading the way down the hall towards the bedrooms. They stopped at the room next to Dean’s bedroom, and Sam swung the door inward, stepping back to let Mikey enter.

“Surprise!” Dean shouted, his arms flung wide and a bright smile on his face. Mikey’s eyes widened as she took in the former bedroom, which had been transformed into a living room of sorts. There was a medium-sized TV on a stand next to the door, chairs, end tables and footstools salvaged from other rooms in the bunker, and a huge overstuffed sofa in a hideous shade of green against the far wall. “No more sitting on somebody’s bed when we wanna watch a movie. What do you think?”

Mikey walked over and sat down, sinking into the soft cushions with a smile. “This is the ugliest couch I’ve ever seen – and I love it!”

Dean beamed back at her like he’d won the lottery. “Well, let’s get some food and beer and get this party started.”

A couple of hours later they had laughed their way through Tommy Boy, and Dean was trying to coax them into staying for Caddy Shack. “I don’t know, I should really go home,” Mikey answered, avoiding Dean’s persuasive smile.

“Come on, Mikey – no work tomorrow, you have all weekend to do whatever you need to do. Sam, tell her.”

“It’s true,” Sam grinned. “But I’m going to bed. You two have fun.”

“Sam, seriously? Traitor.” Mikey tossed a pillow at him as he left the room, his laugh trailing behind him.

“You can’t leave now, let me watch this classic all by myself.” Dean’s tempting little smirk and the playful gleam in his eyes were too much to resist, and Mikey settled back into the cushions, shaking her head with a helpless smile.

“Fine. You’re ridiculous, but fine. Bring it on.”

Sam glanced in on his way from the shower to his room, grinning to himself at the sound of Mikey’s laughter at Dean’s imitation of the gopher dance. He continued on his way, happy with his decision to leave the two of them alone. His brother’s resistance was breaking down, and maybe – eventually – he’d actually let her in.

Mikey woke the next morning snuggled into a soft blanket, still on the ugly green couch. It took her a minute to get her bearings, remembering vaguely how Dean had convinced her to stay. “It’s late. Just stay here tonight, you can go home tomorrow. I’ll make you breakfast…” he had teased in a sing-song tone, waiting until she had finally sighed and given in. She had already fallen asleep halfway through the movie anyway, so why not?

“With bacon?” she had asked, laughing softly at his victorious grin.

“Well, yeah. That goes without saying.”

“Okay. I’ll stay. Thanks.”

“I’ll grab you a blanket.” He had gone to his room and brought her back the fluffiest blanket he could find, and she had mumbled, “Good night, Dean,” as he had headed for the door. And she was sure she had heard him respond with a soft, “G’night, sweetheart” as he had left the room.

She swung her legs over to sit up just as Sam stuck his head in the door. “Left you a spare toothbrush on the counter in the bathroom, if you want one,” he smiled, and she thanked him. “Just going for a run, see you later.”

Dean hummed to himself as he cooked, starting the bacon frying and then mixing pancake batter. He had talked Mikey into staying the night, but he was determinedly pushing away thoughts of how the night could have gone if he had just picked her up and carried her to his room the night before instead of tucking her in on the sofa.

By the time he had a short stack of pancakes done, Mikey walked into the room, sniffing the air appreciatively. “Smells great in here,” she commented, and Dean returned her smile with one of his own.

“Coffee’s ready, help yourself,” he responded. “How many pancakes?”

“A couple is fine – thank you. I can’t believe you really did this.”

“Hey, I always keep my promises.” He handed her a plate of pancakes with a large side of bacon, and then sat down at the table with his own plate. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

“I slept great, that couch is amazing,” she laughed.

They chatted while they ate, and then Dean got up, going to the stove to make up a plate for Sam. “I should probably get going,” Mikey said as she took her dishes to the sink. “Thank you, last night was really fun.”

She moved to Dean’s side, stretching up to place a kiss on his cheek at the same time he turned to look at her, and her lips landed squarely on his. They froze for a moment in surprise, but before she could pull back, his hand was on her shoulder holding her in place, his lips gently exploring hers. She leaned into him with a soft sigh, then jerked away as if she’d been burned at the sound of footsteps entering the room.

“Uh… sorry,” Sam mumbled, smothering the smile that still teased at the corners of his mouth. “Didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

“I was just – umm – heading out. Thanks for last night, I had a great time,” Mikey said in a rush and all but ran from the room.

They heard her footsteps on the stairs and then the door closing, and Sam turned back to look at his brother. “So…”

“It was an accident,” Dean snapped, shoving the plate of food across the table to Sam.

“You ‘accidentally’ kissed her?”

“Yes. Shut up. Just – eat your breakfast.” Dean turned and stalked out of the room, and Sam heard his bedroom door slam. He chuckled to himself, then dug into his stack of pancakes.

Dean paced for a minute, then sat down on the foot of the bed, closing his eyes. What the fuck was happening? He had been determined since the beginning of this whole erased-past fiasco that Mikey would continue her life free from the baggage that came from a relationship with a Winchester. And yet one touch from her and his resistance had disappeared. He had wanted so much more – to tease at the seam of her lips with his tongue until she opened to him, to pull her body close and feel her softness against him, to fit himself between her thighs and let her feel how much he wanted her. “Fuck,” he swore softly, standing to reach for his robe and head for the shower.

Mikey had raced out of there so fast that he had no idea of her reaction, other than being embarrassed by Sam’s interruption. Maybe he’d just text her later, find out if she was okay.

Mikey drove straight home, her mind racing. After all the talk of forgetting about their past, about moving on, the kiss had taken her completely off guard, and she was sure Dean was feeling the same way.

She went about her to-do list, performing her tasks mindlessly, unable to stop thinking about the way his lips had clung to hers, his hand keeping her near as if he had been afraid she’d pull away. If Sam hadn’t come in – her imagination ran wild with scenarios of Dean taking her right there on the counter top or carrying her off to his room, of her mouth on him as he desperately clutched at her hair, of him teasing her, driving her insane with his fingers or his mouth. She was a distracted mess all afternoon, finally going out to mow her lawn, working hard and fast to exhaust her body and relieve the tension.

She was sweaty and weary when she made her way back inside, hitting the shower and then dressing in her comfiest old shorts and tank top before collapsing on the sofa with a cold beer. She reached for the remote, turning on a random sitcom, leaning her head back against the cushions with a sigh. Her phone pinged, and she grabbed it to see a message from Dean. “Hey – are we okay?”

She stared at his words for several minutes, searching in vain for something witty and finally typing back, “Yeah – of course, we’re good.”

“Ok, good,” he responded. “Hey, we’re heading out on a hunt in the morning – so we’ll see you when we get back.”

“Be safe,” she answered, and blew out a relieved breath. At least he hadn’t reverted back to avoiding contact with her, so that was progress. Maybe, someday – she closed her eyes and laid her head back again.

Dean pulled up in front of Harley’s Bar a couple of weeks later, finally back in Kansas after the longer-than-expected hunting trip, and Sam shot him a curious look. “We’re not calling Mikey?”

“Yeah, I figured we’d just call her from here,” Dean answered, exiting the Impala and pulling his phone from his pocket. He called her number as they walked in and grabbed a table, looking up startled as he heard her voice nearby as she answered. She was behind the bar, and her face lit up with a bright smile as she spotted them, heading for their table.

“Home safe and in one piece, that’s what I like to see,” she greeted them. “What can I get you?”

“What – why are you working here?” Dean asked, confused.

“Oh, I’m just helping Harley out – his waitress quit. Ran off with her best friend’s husband, actually, so she won’t be coming back. Kind of left him in a bind, so I offered to help out a couple of nights a week, at least until he finds somebody else.”

“Wow. Well, I guess you won’t be having a couple beers with us, then, huh?” Sam asked, and she smiled his direction.

“If it’s not busy, Harley won’t care. He’s a teddy bear. And he likes me.”

Dean laughed. “He might be a teddy bear if he likes you – he’s a grizzly if he doesn’t.” She grinned and nodded in agreement, glancing over at her ex-biker boss behind the bar. “Couple of beers, please - and come join us if you have time later.”

Mikey dropped off their beers and stopped to chat with them a couple of times, but the bar was moderately full since it was a Friday night, and she was kept pretty busy. Dean’s eyes followed her as she worked, watching the confident, graceful way she navigated between tables, and he smiled at the sound of her voice as she joked and laughed with the customers.

“Dude, you’re staring,” Sam jabbed at his brother, and Dean shot him a glare.

“Shut up,” he said between clenched teeth as Mikey approached their table with two beers.

“On me,” she smiled, “sorry I haven’t had time to hang out.”

“Not closing time yet,” Dean answered. “We’re not in any hurry.”

The guy from the next table gestured to her, and she shrugged. “No rest for the weary.” She headed to his table, took the man’s order and was turning towards the bar when he reached out and grabbed a handful of her ass.

Dean swore under his breath, but before he was halfway out of his chair, Mikey had the side of the jerk’s face smashed against the table top with one hand, his arm twisted painfully behind his back with the other. She spoke quietly, but there was steel in her tone.

“Okay, let’s get something straight. Drinks are on the menu. Food is on the menu. My ass? Not on the menu. Touch me like that again, and you’ll find your balls somewhere up between your ears. Are we clear?” He mumbled a reply as well as he could manage, and she released him, letting him sit back up. “Good boy. Enjoy your beer,” she quipped as she walked away.

“Badass,” Dean grinned, glancing over at Sam, who was doing the same, and he nodded in agreement. Mikey had just moved behind the bar when the drunk swiped his arm across his table, sweeping his beer to the floor where the bottle shattered.

“Fucking bitch,” he spat, starting to stand, but a loud crack resounded through the room, silencing the entire bar. The barrel-chested bartender stood there glowering with his fist clenched around the blackjack he had just slammed to the bar top.

“Get the fuck out of my bar,” he growled, and the asshole scrambled for the door. Harley turned to Mikey, putting a hand on her shoulder, speaking to her softly before she came back out from behind the bar and headed for Sam and Dean’s table.

Dean looked up at her, a concerned frown on his face, reaching for her hand. “You okay?”

She smiled a little shakily. “I’m fine. I – I have no idea how I did that, but I’m fine.”

He squeezed her hand before letting it go. “Well, you kicked ass. Guess a little hunter instinct survived your years in Ohio.” She blushed a little at the admiring gleam in his eyes.

“Harley said I should take the rest of the night off. I’m just gonna make the rounds one more time, then I think I’m heading home.”

Sam turned to Dean. “Why don’t you take me to the bunker quick, then come back and give Mikey a ride home.”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to do that – I’ll be okay.”

“I think you’d feel better if someone stayed with you for a while, right?” Sam asked softly, his eyes searching.

She gnawed at her lip a little, then nodded. “I don’t want to be a pain.” She glanced up at Dean, and he shook his head as they rose to their feet.

“You’re not. Just finish up and I’ll be right back.”

Dean pulled up in front of Harley’s after dropping Sam off, but before he could go in, Mikey came out, her jacket in her hand. She climbed into the passenger seat and smiled over at him. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Any time.”

They drove to her house in silence and Dean parked in the driveway, leaving them momentarily in the dark as he shut off the headlights. “I don’t have to come in if you don’t want me to,” he said. “I mean, if you’d rather…”

“Actually – can you stay for a while? I know it’s dumb, but I really don’t want to be alone right now.”

“It’s not dumb,” he said, lowering his head to look her in the eye. “Besides, you have frozen pizza, right? Kinda hungry.” She laughed softly, nodding, and they headed inside.

They went straight to the kitchen, and Mikey turned on the oven to heat before walking to the fridge. “Want another beer? I need one.”

“Sure, why not,” Dean agreed, and she handed him one, opening hers and leaning back against the counter. Dean parked himself against the kitchen island across from her, taking a long pull from his bottle and watching Mikey as she drank from hers. “So – supreme, pepperoni…?”

“I have both, whatever you want,” she smiled. They stood there silently for a few minutes, then Mikey spoke up softly. “So – about that kiss the other day…” Dean tensed a little, but she fixed her eyes on the floor and continued. “I didn’t mean… I mean, I know you really want to get past all this,” she waved her hand between them, “and I wasn’t trying to push.”

“I know. You weren’t the one who kept it going, that was on me. If Sam wouldn’t have walked in…” She looked up at him, waiting for him to finish, the vulnerability in her eyes more than he could take in, so he averted his eyes and went on. “I didn’t want to stop. I, uh…” he paused, his teeth gnawing at his lip. “I’ve still been dreaming about you – about us. And not memories or stuff from our past. I’ve been having dreams about us like we are now.” He hesitated for a moment, then set his beer down on the counter behind him and moved closer to her, looking directly into her eyes, his hands moving to rest at her waist as he bent to touch his forehead to hers. “I can’t get you out of my head,” he said, his voice soft and desperate, his breath warm on her lips.

She tilted her head up slightly, and his restraint dissolved as he captured her lips beneath his, her fists clenching handfuls of his shirt as she pulled him closer. He stopped for a second, looking into her eyes again as she whispered, “Me, too,” and Dean groaned as he kissed her again, their hunger for each other finally set free.

He tightened his grip on her waist and lifted her to sit on the counter, and she opened her legs to bring him closer. He slanted his mouth over hers, and she moaned as he deepened their kiss, his hands drifting down to her hips to pull her in tight against him.

He finally lifted his head as they both panted for air, staring into her eyes as he began to work the buttons of her shirt free. When he pushed it from her shoulders, he finally let his gaze move down, and he swore under his breath before kissing her again. His lips left a trail of fire along her jaw line and down, nibbling just below her ear. “Bedroom?” he whispered, and she nodded, letting him step back and slipping down off the counter to her feet.

Dean reached over and shut off the oven before taking her hand, letting her lead him to her room. She turned on the little bedside lamp, washing the room in a soft glow before she let her shirt drop to the floor. “C’mere,” he rasped, taking her shoulders and turning her back to him as he undid the clasp of her bra. He slipped his fingers beneath the straps, sliding them down her arms until the garment joined her shirt on the floor.

He moved in close behind her, his hands gliding up over her ribs and cupping the underside of her breasts, his thumbs stroking over her nipples as she leaned back into his chest. “Dean,” she whined, her legs trembling, her head rolling back on his shoulder. “I gotcha,” he murmured in her ear, his hands moving to her waist, turning her to face him and pulling her with him towards the bed.

He sat down, pulling her down to perch on one thigh as he dipped his head down to tongue one hard nipple into the warmth of his mouth. A frantic little sound escaped Mikey’s lips as she jerked, the firm muscle of Dean’s thigh providing the friction her body so desperately craved. Dean moved to the other breast, sucking and nipping at her, driving her to wrap her arms around his neck and rut against him, whimpering against his shoulder as he shifted his hands to her hips to help. He bent his head to nibble at her earlobe, his voice low and seductive as he spoke. “Is that what you need, baby? Something hard and warm?” She whined, and he traced a tongue over the shell of her ear, “You get off like this, and you can have something hard and warm to fill you up inside, you want that? Because I do. I wanna be inside that sweet pussy so deep…” The rumble of his voice, the words he was breathing in her ear, the exquisite pressure from the seam of her jeans as she rode him set her off as she continued grinding into him with a loud cry of his name.

He shifted her away from his chest far enough to take her lips in a forceful kiss, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she rode out her orgasm, finally parting from him with a gasp of much-needed air and dropping her head to his shoulder again. She went limp as he wrapped his arms around her, whispering as his hands smoothed over the soft skin of her back. “That was so fucking hot.” After a moment or two, she sat up, her eyes glowing, shoving his button-down off his shoulders and reaching for the waist of his t-shirt. He laughed softly, mumbling, “Okay, okay,” as he shed himself of both, pulling her against him with a groan at the sensation of her breasts against his skin as he kissed her again.

She finally moved away with a push on his shoulders, rising to her feet and kicking off her shoes. “I believe I was promised something, and it ain’t happening with your pants on.” She smirked at him, and he stood up with a grin as they both rushed to remove the rest of their clothes. He scooped her up and tossed her onto the bed, and she giggled, shifting herself to the middle as he climbed up to join her, fitting himself between her thighs and bracing himself up on his hands. She sucked in a startled breath as his cock nudged up against her sensitive clit, his teeth dragging over his bottom lip as he watched her expression with hunger in his gaze.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?” he said softly before kissing her, sweet and seductive, gently lowering himself down. “So wet,” he moaned, thrusting against her several times before dipping down to catch at her entrance, and she wrapped her legs around his hips with a needy whimper. He pushed in slowly, drawing out every bit of pleasure from the sensation of pressing into her tight, trembling cunt, pulling back from their kiss to grit his teeth as he finally entered her completely. “Fuck, Mikey…”

“I don’t know how I could ever have forgotten this,” she said breathlessly.

“Me, either,” he panted, looking into her eyes. “You feel like fucking heaven.” He pulled back, watching her mouth drop open and her eyes drift shut as he pushed forward again, grinding a little as he bottomed out.

“Fuck, you did promise me deep,” she rasped out, hands reaching to grasp at his biceps.

“Always try to keep my promises,” he answered, pulling back and thrusting in faster, and her nails dented his skin as he reached the limit. “So hold on.”

He began to drive into her hard, ramping up speed until her head was rolling back into the pillow, her thighs gripping him tight as she met every bruising thrust. Their gasps and moans filled the room until Mikey threw her arms wide and arched her back, coming with a wordless, wavering shout as she clawed desperately at the sheets. Dean swore, fucking into her wildly, the spasms of her climax driving him on until he exploded, holding himself deep inside her, never wanting it to end.

Almost an hour later, Mikey stirred, her eyes fluttering open, a little disoriented at first. Dean hadn’t moved, his face still buried against her neck, and her lips curved in a gentle smile. She moved one hand up to softly scratch her nails through the short hair at his nape, her other hand gliding over the muscular expanse of his back. He let out a quiet little groan as he shifted, and Mikey shuddered as he pulled away and rolled to his back beside her.

“Hey,” he rasped, his voice gravelly with sleep. “Sorry, didn’t mean to fall asleep and crush you.”

“Not complaining,” she answered, accepting his wordless invitation into his arms. He pulled her close, dropping a kiss to the top of her head as she laid it on his chest, her arm clinging to his waist. “I’m really glad that you showed up in that bar in Ohio. At first I thought it was the worst thing that ever happened to me, but it turns out it was the best.”

Dean’s hand moved to her face, tilting it upward for a sweet, gentle kiss. “I doubt if getting mixed up with me is the best thing to ever happen to you – but going into that bar was one of the best decisions I ever made.” His fingers stroked over her cheek as he looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry for the shit you went through, and for keeping my distance for so long. I was just – I wanted you to be safe, to be free from the shit storm that being part of my life always seems to be.”

Mikey stretched up to kiss him, her lips clinging to his for a long moment. “I hate to break it to you, Dean Winchester, but I think being a part of your life is worth any shit storm that might happen. And since I’ve actually lived through one, I think I’m entitled to my opinion.”

Dean’s chest vibrated with a low chuckle. “You think so, huh?”

She traced a finger over his chest, smiling as his muscles clenched when she brushed over his nipple. “Well, I supposed you could try proving it to me a little more, if you insist.”

He grinned, making her gasp softly as he reached over to roll her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “You have anything in particular in mind?”

“I’ll let you use your imagination,” she teased.

“Oh, honey, I’ve got one hell of an imagination,” he growled, rolling her to her back and taking her lips in a searing kiss. “And I’ll give you all the proof you want.”

Tags for my lovelies: 

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@suckitands33    @ej13928    @lmhf1

[vixenpen]

Our Year (Eddie Munson x Black Fem Reader)

“Guys, is that the freak’s car?” Lizzie pointed out as the girls found a parking spot on the lawn at the drive in.

They were piled into her mom’s old station wagon at the movie.

Chrissy looked over the passenger side seat. Sure enough the dark red painted van sat up ahead, rocking steadily.

“Oh, gross, they’re totally shagging right now. The van is practically bouncing.”

Gasps and giggles rippled amongst the girls.

Chrissy blushed.

“Umm, maybe we shou-“

“Hey, you guys wanna welcome our newest member personally?” Lizzie grinned, wickedly at the other girls.

Michaela smirked. “What do you have in mind?”

Eddie bucked into you roughly, while holding your hips.

“Fuuuck, Eddie.” You sobbed. Your hair was frizzing and sticking to your brown forehead from the humidity building up in the car.

“Shit..” Your boyfriend hissed, admiring your screwed up face. It took full concentration not to bust his load. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He moaned.

The two of you hadn’t watched a minute of the movie. The minute Eddie parked his van, the pair of you had climbed into the back. The sleeping bags Eddie usually kept in the back were covered in warm blankets and soft pillows and got regular use when the two of you were together. Or when his band didn’t have a gig to prepare for.

Rolling your hips back against Eddie, you leaned down to capture his lips in a sloppy kiss.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and flipped you on your back. A gasp escaped You, and he chuckled before stealing your lips again. The pair of you moaned so wrapped up in one another, you almost didn’t hear the rustling footsteps outside the van.

Almost.

Your bro furrowed.

“Babe?” You piped up between kisses.

“Hmm?”

“Do you hear something?”

“Nnnope!” He replied, teeth grazing your neck.

It was enough to make you forget where you were; let alone what you thought you heard. You turned your attention back to your boyfriend with a pleasured sigh.

You processed the sound of faint giggles minutes too late before hearing the unmistakable explosive fizzing sound.

“What the fuck is that?!” Eddie exclaimed, practically jumping off of you.

You scrambled up on your elbows as well, looking for the source of the noise.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck! Shit!” Eddie cursed. Clambering to the front seat in nothing but his sagging jeans.

“What?! Babe, what is it?!”

“Some fucking butt munch threw a soda in here! God damn it, it’s all over my fucking tapes!”

You pulled on your Hawkins High cheer shirt and peered over the driver’s side seat to observe the scene. Sure enough a can of coke had fizzed all over the front seat.

The two of you had rolled the windows down to let the humidity out of the van, so the asswipes had no problem tossing the drink through the cracked windows.

“Man, fuck!”

Eddie pulled a grease stained towel from the glove compartment along with a few napkins and started wiping the chair and steering wheel down.

“I knew I heard something.” You cursed and grabbed the coke can angrily.

Shaking it, you heard a rattling sound.

You scowled.

“It was the old mentos in the soda trick.” You tsked.

“I’ll fuckin’ kill whoever did this.” Eddie mumbled. “HEAR THAT YOU BUNCH OF SHIT STAINS?!” He yelled out the window.

You found an abandoned bottle of water and dampened some napkins so that the seat wouldn’t be sticky. Meanwhile, Eddie had put on his jeans and shirt and climbed out the back of the van. He looked around the lot for a while before climbing back into the van.

“Babe, isn’t that freakin’ Liz Rawlins station wagon over there?” He tugged your arm.

You crawled to where he was and looked around. He was right. There was Liz’s car. She and a few of the other Hawkins cheer squad were laughing and talking in her car.

“Fucking bitch!” You cursed.

“My thoughts exactly. That was totally their doing.”

You usually tried to be the voice of reason, but even you had to admit; it was awfully convenient that they were here and all of a sudden you guys got soda bombed.

“So, m’lady,” Eddie wrapped an around your waist, giving you a sly grin. “What say you? Revenge?”

You smirked back at him.

“Revenge.”

[teambetterends]

honestly i’m that friend that when someone else is like “oh i forgot thing in my dorm/whathaveyou” or they need batteries and i have some back in my dorm and i’m immediately like i’ll get it! and they’re like :o are you sure like! dude absolutely. it’ll be like down three long hallways and a floor down and i’ll still go. like it’s not a big deal to me i love doing that

[deans-baby-momma]

The Story of Us-Chapter 14

A/N: This is a rewrite of a story my good friend @spnbaby-67 allowed me to take and rewrite. All mistakes are mine. This is canon divergent, meaning some things that happened in the show will still happen here but with my own twist to it.

Summary: She and Dean met when they were kids. Even at such a young age, she knew that he was her soulmate. Being the daughter of a hunter, Michaela (Micki) Singer knew the life he led came with a price, but she was up to the challenge.

Pairings: Dean Winchester/Michaela Singer

Warnings: Flashbacks are in italics, fluffy stuff, angst stuff, character death, kidnapping, depression, semi-dark themes

A/N2: This chapter has what is known as an inception flashback, or in layman terms, a flashback within a flashback……I learned something new today because I didn’t think it was possible. LOL

Summer 1997

Dean stayed at Singer’s Salvage after prom, telling John that he was taking on a hunt of his own when, in reality, he stayed back to spend time with Micki. Bobby, of course, never said a word to John because he thought the kid needed to be a rebellious teenager anyway. It’s a rite of passage for children; to disobey their parents’ rules and learn some lessons ‘the hard way’.

Dean and Micki were inseparable day in and day out. The only time they were apart was at night. Bobby might have been okay with his daughter and Dean dating but he was in no way going to condone them sleeping in the same bed. Not under his roof!

It’s been six months since prom and Dean was still living in Bobby’s basement. At breakfast one morning, he walked up behind Micki while she’s cooking breakfast-bacon and egg of course- and informs her that he is taking her out on a date that night.

“Really?” Micki asked, turning her attention from the pan of frying foods to look at her boyfriend. “Where are we going?”

Dean smiles and bends to peck a kiss to her lips. “Just out. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, beautiful. I have it all planned out. Just meet me out front at 5.” 

After eating the delicious breakfast that she had prepared, Dean went out to help her dad in the garage so Micki went about cleaning up. She was giddy and excited that Dean had made plans and they were going out, like a real actual couple. 

Not that they hadn’t had dates before, or as far as Bobby knew they were dates, but most of the times while her dad thought his daughter and Dean were at the movies or out getting dinner, the two lovebirds were parked on some deserted, backwoods road, fucking and giving each other immeasurable pleasure.

Micki sighs as she remembers just last week, they were in the backseat of one of the old jalopies from the junk yard, and they’d done something new but scary; had sex without a condom.

Flashback

Dean begins kissing down Micki’s neck as his hand snakes between her thighs and up to the hem of her shorts, his fingertips dipping under the material. Micki moans as she throws her head back.

“Why don't I help you take those shorts off?" Dean mumbled against her skin. With a bit of maneuvering and accidentally bumping their heads together once, the two lovers eventually succeeded and Micki laid back against the backseat of the Chevy. 

Her legs were spread to accommodate Dean's body as he leaned forward and captured her in a passionate kiss, one of his hands finding purchase on her breast while his other was holding onto the back of the cushion.

After kneading her tit and flicking her nipple until it puckered, Dean's hand traveled south slowly but with purpose. As soon as his fingertips met her sodden folds,  Micki moaned into the kiss.

"You like when I finger you, dontcha sweetheart?" Dean asked with a smile. "You like these-" he continues as he taps his digits against her core. "- rubbing all over this sweet little pussy, inside and out, hmm?"

"Yes, God yes!"

Dean uses his forefinger and ring finger to open her lower lips and rubs her clit with his middle one. He can already feel the nub swelling and pulsing against his touch.

"Baby, look at me."

Micki opens her eyes, she didn't even realize she had closed and looked into his viridian irises. Dean smiles down at her before telling her,  "I like watching you as I do this."

His finger slides down and into her entrance,  crooking at his fist knuckle to flick at the spongy part just behind her clit. 

Micki whimpers and grates her hips but Dean doesn't falter as he keeps pushing and pulling his finger out of her, ultimately adding another and another until Micki's walls are stretched around his three thick digits.  

"Fuck, look at how well you take it Mick! That pussy is squeezing my fingers."

"Dean," Micki groans as she feels her first orgasm approaching. "Don't stop! Please don't stop!"

The moment his thumb grazed across her turgid clit, Micki's back arched off the leather  and her limbs tensed as her release flowed out, soaking his hand, wrist and interior of the vehicle.

"Damn baby," Dean says, astonished. "You squirted everywhere."

Before Micki could respond,  Dean had removed his fingers and covered her whole pussy with his mouth, sucking and locking the remnants of her climax from her.

He spent what seemed like hours down there, nibbling on her clit, locking into her entrance and sucking hickey's onto her labia.  Micki thought she'd go mad!

When he finally relented, she had had another orgasm from just his mouth and it was evident on his lips and chin when he pulled away from her.

"I gotta fuck you now before I explode!"

Dean hurriedly unbuckled his jeans and pulled them down, his hard dick bouncing up against his stomach.

"Shit!" He suddenly exclaimed.  "Shit. Shit. Shit."

"What-" Micki asked.

"We don't have a condom. Fucking hell! I forgot to replace the one we used the other day."

"Oh. Well I could suck you off?" She suggested, sitting up and wrapping her hand around his shaft, pumping her fist up and down his length

"What if," Dean began and then swallowed. "What if I promise to pull out? Please? I kinda want to fuck you bare. See if it feels different, better."

"You promise?" She asked as she continued jerking him off. "You cannot cum inside me!"

"Pinky promise," Dean said, holding his free hand up, the pinky finger extended. As soon as Micki's wrapped around it, he smiles. "This is gonna feel awesome!"

Sweat was beading on his forehead as he plowed into Micki's welcoming body. Dean could feel his release but didn't want this to end, so he stayed it off. He bit into his bottom lip until he tasted blood, his hips thrusting without abandon.

"Oh fuck! That feels good. God, I'm gonna cum. Oh god, oh god!"

Micki starts pushing against his chest. "Pull out Dean! Pull out! Now!"

But it was too late. Dean had already discharged a few spurts into her body before he could remove himself to finish on her stomach. 

"Goddammit Dean!"

End Flashback

The sound of the screen door creaking open and then slamming shit brought Micki back to reality as she watched her father stroll in to refill his coffee thermos.

"Hey sweetie," he says as he pounds the liquid. "Dean tells me y'all are going out again?"

"Yea.Probably just going into town for a  burger at the diner," Micki says, shrugging. 

"Well, don't stay out too late."

"We won't Dad," she smiles as her Dad comes over to kiss her on top of the head before disappearing out the door again.

Present Day (2008)

Bobby goes to rush to Dean, realizing the boy is devastated as he's been lied to-by an angel, no less- and that Micki isn't awake.

But as he glances past the man on the floor to the younger Winchester, he is confused by the smile on Sam's lips  

"She woke up about an hour ago," Sam explains.

Bobby hurries to the bedroom door, stepping around Dean and looks inside.

Michaela is sitting up, against the headboard with her feet planted on the mattress and her daughter laying against her raised knees.

"Hiya Dad!”

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