#thinking about things from jay's pov is both really fucking funny and really emotional

[kimbapisnotsushi]

just imagine like. you're seventeen and desperate and angry and hurting for the truth. you're largely underground and unheard of and you have no power other than slapping on a mask and telling the truth over and over again, hoping that someone will hear. and you will NEVER, not in a MILLION YEARS, guess who DID hear! because the next day superman—not THE superman, it's his really cute son who you met literally a few days ago when he saved you from being shot, and you still have his fake hair—shows up in metropolis lugging a boat full of refugees that you thought would die out in the ocean because no country would dare go looking for them. and he burns the handcuffs off of them, and demands that they be treated with kindness and compassion, and doesn't seem to give a damn about how many international laws he just fucked up. like, wow.

and then you go to talk to him and tell him who you are and oh my god you're FLIRTING with superman. over his fake hair. and when you call him to protect a protest he comes right away, and he stands at the front, eyes blazing, and tells the police to ARREST HIM TOO? so THEN you go to bail him out and meet his dad (actual superman, but whatever) who invites you to dinner. and you get to meet LOIS FUCKING LANE. YOUR HERO. you then embarrass yourself in front of lois lane. the house explodes. superman ( jon, not clark) flies off to confront the guy who almost killed his entire family, and who also happens to be the evil president that overtook your country. superman comes back different. you watch through dimly-lit screens as he runs himself ragged all over the earth trying to save people. burning out like a dying star. he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders, you think. so you have him brought back to your dark apartment, a space just for you and now him, but not "him" as in "superman", it's "him" as in "jon kent"—because you're the one person he never has to worry about, and you want him to know that. he doesn't have to be superman with you. he can just be jon, and jon is beautiful and bright and everything you dreamed of.

"you've got the world," you say. "i've got you."

and hoLY SHIT YOU'RE KISSING HIM. YOU'RE KISSING JON KENT. AND HE LOOKS REALLY, REALLY HAPPY ABOUT IT. HOLY SHIT. you know, at this moment, that you trust this boy with your life. you're going to take on president bendix together and you're going to save your people. and so you make a whole plan that even ROBIN gets involved in (and holy shit you meet robin!! robin almost DECKED you!! and seems to like you? and approves of your relationship with jon?) and set sail for home. jon carries you into the sky. he doesn't want to drop you; you can see it on his face. it's cute. superman is used to catching people, after all, so you smile and let yourself fall. you'll see him on the other side. you believe in him. you have hope, for once in your life. you know he's right by your side. you know he'll be there when you call.

you love him.

and suddenly the battle is over, it's done with, bendix is gone and your people are free and you get to introduce jon to your mother! it's the best day of your life. but when you look around, you see that everyone is watching you. the whole world is, probably. they'll know who you are. they'll know who jay nakamura is.

you don't care. the truth doesn't have to hide anymore. and what is the truth, after all this time? what does jay nakamura have to tell the world?

jon takes your hand. you kiss him, and the truth is that you never want to stop.

[jay-and-dean]

Don’t look down, Baby   Part 1/3

Dean x reader

Summary :  Dean told her to ignore the “thing” between them and to jump in any guy’s arms. Any of them but him.

When we think of a guy our Y/n could be with, longing for Dean, it’s usually a nice dude, a little boring, right ? Because who can compete with Dean ? Now, what if this guy was as badass as Dean ?

Characters : Dean Winchesters, Sam Winchester, Reader, Abraham Hale (OC)

Warnings : Angst, jealous Dean, Smut (unprotected sex -you’re smarter than this !-, oral, also kinda lame sex if it’s a warning), cheating, swearing, smoking, drinking... More warnings in the second part.

Wordcount : 6k (yes, just the part one... now you get why I cut it.)

Note : So for the Aestetic, I used the face of Jax Teller from Sons Of Anarchy, and you have to know, even if Abraham Hale looks like him, he is totally an OC.

This is writen both in Reader and Dean’s Pov. Dean’s thought are in italic. 

Text divider by the talented @talesmaniac89​

Jay’s Masterlist

September 16, 10:33pm

 Dean’s POV

           I always thought that when Y/n finds a guy, it would be the perfect douche I wanted for her. Some nice dude named Robert, a cop maybe, or a realtor with a friendly family.

           He would annoy me to death with his stories about growing up in a farm, and call her Pumpkin. He would worry a little when she goes out with us because he thinks we drink too much when we’re together.

           He would tear her from me and I would hate him for that. She would skip a hunt to meet his parents, another to spend a few days in the cabin he rented… But even if it breaks my heart, it would be exactly what I want for her, so I would let her go.

           I had it all planned.

           But, of course, she didn’t play by the rules.

           And that guy is no Robert…

           His loud manly laugh tears me from my thoughts. His tattooed hand wraps around his whiskey glass and I turn my head to that waitress that always gives me warm smiles, she’s staring at him now, with the sweetness that was once for me.

           Abe.

           Ex-gang member, Abe. Bad guy turned good. Raised by the widow of a gang member, in a violent environment, he already had a criminal record at fourteen, started selling guns before he was officially allowed to drink, ended up in prison at Twenty-two.

Sweet smile Abe. Reformed bad boy with an attitude. Became a hunter after he met a vampire gang and slew them to the last. Now defender of the good citizen, he found his fight, and the hunters talk about him as one of the bests.

Afraid of nothing and ready to fight, charismatic, alpha Abe. His muscular arm in the back of my girl, his long blond hair falling on his face when he lights up a cigarette in a grunt of content while she touches his neck.

Abe. My new nemesis.

“So Dean” he says with his deep voice hoarse from smoking too much. “How did you meet my girl ?”

I met her on a hunt, invited her to my room and took her on that wall. Do you remember, Y/n ? Don’t look down baby, look at me.

“On a hunt.”

“That’s how I met her too” he smiles and kisses her temple. “Seems like we have a lot in common.”

“Looks like we do” I state.

           Her eyes darken and she turns her head, I know how to read her, she is pissed, and I don’t even know why. I did nothing, I said nothing, and her rock-and-roll version of prince charming is worshiping her, so what causes that bitterness ?

What is it, baby ? Am I missing something ?

“So I heard your brother and you have this fucking palace ?” he gives me a corner smile, smoke coming out of his nose.

“Who told you that ?” I grunt.

What is the point of a secret bunker if it is as secret as a freaking tweet ?

           He chuckles and takes a sip of his whiskey, not answering.

           Abe never answers all the questions he is asked, maybe it is some cool thing for guys like him, maybe it is his way of look mysterious or powerful. What is sure is, as annoying as it is, it freaking works. But each time he smirks with his eyes lost in the bottom of his glass in a little huff instead of speaking, I get closer to losing it and smashing his pretty face on the table.

“I told him” she says almost coldly. “Like you did all your friends, Abe is my boyfriend, Dean.”

I nod. What can I say, she’s right after all. She’s always right…

           She was right about that cop being the bad guy the first time we hunted together, right about the fact that my so-called bond with Amara would fade the second she gets whatever she wanted. She was right about Jack being a good kid but dangerous enough to need to be watched and educated instead of pushed away. Right about Mary hurting me more than I admitted…

She was right when she said I was wrong. The day I told her we shouldn’t sleep together again, that she should just ignore that thing between us and jump in any guy’s arms. Any of them but me…

I really say that : any of them. I did.

Did you choose Abe just to annoy me, baby ? To prove a point ? You had to bring a guy who would beat me at my own grumpy-loner-badass-crap-drink-too-much game, right ?

“That place sounds sure awesome, because Y/n keeps coming back to it” he states, not letting me know the true meaning he puts in that sentence, his piercing blue eyes free of any emotions on the surface.

“Well it’s home for her” I say, and that bastard chuckles. “Is it funny ?”

“Not at all !” he says with a warm and kind laugh, and a friendly tap on my shoulder. “You should relax Dean, you look like the bar is full of demons !”

I stay stern, I know I should probably look friendly, but I rarely hated someone nice that much.

           He gets up and kisses her head before he walks away, his manly way to move catching women’s attention, and some men’s too. One of his hand goes through his blond hair while he walks to the bathroom with the other hand deep in his jeans’ pocket.

“So… Abe, huh ?” I ask, the second he’s gone.

           I should be more coherent, I know. I want her gone, but I want her for me. I was sure I was ready to see her with someone else, it’s been three years. Three years ! After we only made love six times. She is not mine, she never was.

And I thought calling her Baby in my head would make me strong. It’s a weird feeling, like I could let her be happy, but still feel special. I would have been the passion of her youth, the one that died young and of which she would think a little when she rocks her baby in her pretty house…

I had somehow romanticized my heartbreak.

But that doesn’t feel romantic at all. And all I can think of is that he is passion too, I’m not dead, and I just have to see him touch her and imagine them at night…

“Yes” she says, still with that bitterness in her voice. “You could make an effort, Dean. He has been nothing but nice, and you act like he’s an enemy.”

“I haven’t decided if he is one yet.”

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head in disapproval.

I recognize hurt. My Y/n, when she’s hurt, she gets angry. Always. And I made her angry so often. Her irritation is growing, I can see it in her burning eyes.

“You can’t do that” she says low. “You can’t treat him like that, no one gives you the right.”

“And him ?” I dare asking, staring at her reddened face. “Does he treat you right ?”

Her eyes fills with tears again and her jaw clenches.

“Better than you did, you mean ?” her words feel like a stab in my heart.

 Reader’s POV

           I didn’t want to say that, it came out by itself.

           I’m thin-skinned lately. I feel like I could cry or scream any moment, all the time. My emotions have always been loud, my sensibility overwhelming, but for a few weeks I’m drowning.

           The fact that I decided to try to get over Dean Winchester probably caused that.

A long time ago, I thought living with Dean without ever having him would be the worst, then I saw him with other women and was convinced I was mistaking before : the worst was definitely that. How wrong was I ?

           The worst is having had him. Not once, but several times, each time a little more intimate. More kisses, more touches, more suspended seconds watching in each other’s eyes… Until we spent that night together, that last night, and he fell asleep against me for the first time.

           It was over. It was too much for Dean, and not enough for me.

           Dean Winchester can’t belong to anyone, not again. He doesn’t want to be a boyfriend, and he doesn’t want me to be his girl ; who am I to insist ?

“Well, that’s a minimum” he answers in a soft groan after a little while, and my heart breaks because I just did what I swore I would never do : Reproach him for any of it.

“I’m sorry” I sigh, thinking of those weeks after the last night, when I had to hide the worst pain I ever felt because I didn’t want him to feel bad about not wanting me.

I still do... -feel that pain and try to hide- because Abe or not, I still live with Dean and he doesn’t deserve to carry my pain on top of the world on his shoulders.

“Can you at least try ?” I beg, low, seeing my boyfriend getting out of the restroom but stopping next to the door to talk to someone he obviously knows.

“Yes” Dean answers. “I’m just… He’s a hunter and…”

“He’s a good man” I assure him, looking at Abe walking toward us above Dean’s shoulder. “He comes from a dark place, like us, but he is a good man.”

 September 21, 08:12pm

 “That place is crazy !” Abe says, sitting at the table of the library. “I have never seen anything like this.”

           While Sam tells him a little more about the bunker, I look at my boyfriend.

           I stare at him, trying to get rid of that uncomfortable impression, that feeling screaming that he doesn’t belong here ; because if he doesn’t belong in the bunker, then he probably just has nothing to do in my life.

           A lot of memories cross my mind, like it happens a lot lately.

The memory of entering the bunker for the first time and deeply knowing that, as long as I am welcome here, this would be my home. Because it just feels right and because, even if I’m not the granddaughter of Henri Winchester, he trusted me with this place, as much as he trusted his family. That man actually welcomed me like Mary never really did, like I was just as legit as blood.

At his frank smile, the memory of meeting Abe crosses me too. I was alone in this hunter bar, trying to get information for a case. I hadn’t told Sam and Dean that I would go there, because I know how much uncomfortable the hunter community makes them. And I was introduced to him : Abraham Hale. I found him so beautiful, with his mischievous smile that seemed to mock the entire world, his wheat blond hair and his tattoos. Something felt so safe about him, not because he looked like a bad boy, but because he was light and happy, laughing at everything and taking nothing seriously… All that Dean wasn’t.

I loved his wild energy right away. Abe was like the drums in a rock song, like summer wind. In his arms, I forgot about Dean for a few seconds a day during the first weeks. We spent days sleeping and having sex behind the curtains of that motel room, hiding from summer heat, and nights drinking and listen to rock music...

But now I look at him, his bright blue eyes seem pale next to the deep green looking back, and his beauty is bland.

“Thank you for showing me your home, Treasure” he says, putting a tender hand on my back like he always does.

And my eyes cross Dean’s.

           I know what he’s thinking, he’s cringing at the nickname, and that reminds me why I am with Abe : Dean never gave me a nickname, he never called me anything else than my name, he will never and even when others do, he thinks it’s lame and cheesy.

 Dean’s POV

           That hurt on her face again.

Baby, you can’t look at me like that each time he calls you Treasure . I don’t like it, but you’re supposed to do.

           This is much harder than I thought, and I was aware it would be impossible.

           Each and every one of his actions makes me face my own contradictions : The more loving he is, the more I want to push him away from her. But the more she seems distant and to have her head in the clouds, the more it eases the pain. Am I selfish enough to hate her happiness even though I love her ?

           I was in control, during those three years not touching her, my heart was aching with craving and my soul was screaming at me to make her love me. But as much as the heartbreak was constant, I had chosen it. I was in control.

           I never realize that it was only bearable because she was still here, my partner, my best friend, my roommate. Mine.

           Now she took it back. She raised her middle finger right in my face and decided she wouldn’t be mine anymore.

And that is a whole new level of pain.

           I don’t sleep when she’s not home, and sometimes food just won’t let me eat it. She texts during our movie nights and wears that pendant he gave her. I hate that pendant because it reminds me I never gave her a present. Not once in all those years.

“Another drink ?” Y/n asks him with the bottle in her hand.

“Don’t you drive ?” I cut him before he answers and I see her eyes shoot me with imaginary bullets.

I’m sorry Baby but it’s movie night tonight, can’t he just leave already ?

“He’s right” she says giving me a little hope that she will ask him to leave soon. “You should stay for the night.”

My breathing gets stuck in my lungs.

No Baby, don’t do that to me. Please.

“With pleasure !” he smiles.

 September 21, 11:49pm

 Reader’s Pov

           He grabs my thigh to lift it a little and grunt in my ear. His kisses are hot on my neck, his heavy body moving cautiously on top of me.

           My eyes are on the ceiling, my hands on his sweaty muscular back and I wait.

           Damn, what is happening ? He’s close, I am going to fake it ? I swore I would never fake, I swore if the guy can’t get me there, he should know, but… Abe is not the problem, I am.

           I just watch the ceiling wondering what is wrong with me. He did everything right, nice foreplays and those love words he always has for me. But nothing seems to turn me on anymore, and without the need and the pleasure, his thrusts are just uncomfortable and I feel weird.

           Come already.

           I sigh. I know what is making this impossible. Dean. This fucker is the last I had in my own bed, the only one in fact. And everything reminds me that Abe is not Dean fucking Winchester !

“You okay Treasure ?” he pants in my ear, nibbling at it.

I’m not a freaking snack, what is it with his mouth and teeth always ?

“Yes” I fake a moan. “I’m close Abe, come.”

Just don’t be loud, that would be so awkward.

           When he loses rhythm, I close my eyes at the relief, it won’t be long now, make it stop. He shakes a little and grunt loud, filling the condom inside of me ; and, to make my fake moans credible, I clench my walls around him one time or two, rolling my eyes at his proud groan.

           Sex with Abe used to be so much more than this. I'm getting frustrated. Did I break something in me ? Why can't I enjoy anything anymore ?

           He rolls on my side, panting, and smiles tenderly at me. He’s beautiful, I have to admit that, and he’s nice and loving.

“You’re amazing” he hums. “I guess I can’t smoke in your bedroom ?”

“I don’t mind” I answer sincerely. “The air co is magical, just, don’t smoke more than one.”

           He sits on the bed to get his pants, his beautiful tattooed back on me. The smoke flies in pretty wreath. I put my hand on the lion tattooed on his back. It suits him, with his solar attitude and his confidence, his beautiful blond hair…

           Yet I keep longing for my wolf.

 Dean’s Pov

           Now I know I could kill him. And now I know what the limit amount of pain I can take is.

           I pace my room like a crazy man. He is taking her, my Baby. He is sinking inside of her and stealing pleasure. Does she wrap her legs around him like she always did with me ? To push me deeper. Is she as responsive ? As lost in pleasure as she was ? With that way only she has too beg for more with her entire body, voice strangled and arms caging me the best she can…

           Is she…

“F-fuck…” I whine, holding my heart.

I think I just felt it break.

Baby…

Breathing is painful now, I feel like I’m drowning.

Baby… Why did you have to do that to me ? I know I hurt you but your revenge is unbearable.

I sit on my bed, still holding my chest.

I can’t take it, you know.

“Shit” I grunt.

How can this kind of familiar panic attack be back ? How can this hurt so much ? It’s not Hell, it’s not Purgatory…

“It is Hell” I say out loud.

Loosing you, Baby. It’s Hell. Do you love him ? Because…

“Fuck, I love her” I whine.

 September 28, 06:05pm

             Sitting in my “Fortress of Deanitude”, I wait. The tray with snacks is there, beers too, and Netflix is ready for our next episode of Stanger Things.

           But there is a big chance she won’t come. Our movie nights are getting rarer and rarer, like our time together in general. And this place is slowly becoming a Fortress of Solitude…

           You never know how much you need something until you lost it, right ? I was stupid enough to think I could be stronger than the need for her and now look at me, alone in that big empty room in a bigger emptier bunker.

           All I can think of is how much each day pulls her closer to him and further from me. They are building memories in which I’m not, they are building an intimacy that I lost three years ago. She will forget me and he will have her, maybe even make her change a little, until one day she is among those people who talk about their personal tastes by saying “we”. “We prefer red wine”.

           Ew.

           Is he going to change my girl, for real ? Make her love Led Zeppelin a little less, make her a little less her, make her want other things, another life, need me less ? Our things will become unimportant and be replaced by all kind of other things I have no idea about.

           I take a long sip of my glass. It’s not like I had my word to say anyway. I lost her. I lost her in the worst way possible : willingly.

           But just when I’m about to get up and go put the snacks away, she opens the door, panting a little, like she had ran.

“Dean” she says entering the room. “I’m sorry. There was an accident on the road and the traffic was disturbed.”

You were at his place, Baby, and you ran to me ?

A little smile lights up my face when her presence revive my heart.

“It’s okay” I say.

“I’m late, but I have…” she takes her hand out of her purse. “Giant skittles !”

“You found them ?” I smile, sitting straighter when she hands me a bag.

Our things are not all gone. And she still cares about me and about our time together.

“Yup ! I made Abe stop in every shop yesterday.”

So you think of me when you’re with him, Baby ? Have you ever thought of me while he was inside of you ?

“Sit” I pat the armchair next to mine. “Let’s find out if Dusty’s girlfriend exists !”

“I really hope !” she exclaims, taking off her jacket.

I try not to look at her, but when she quickly takes off her jeans to slip in her pajamas pants, I swallow hard. Those thighs could have been for me, and I could have watched the show while holding her.

           She sits with her knees up against her chest in the big chair next to me, and takes a beer. My eyes are glued to her, looking for anything unusual, and fearing it more than anything in the same time.

“What ?” she calls me out of my thoughts.

“Nothing, I…” have no idea how to finish this sentence.

“I’m still okay you know ?” she says without looking at me, playing with the label of her beer bottle. “You always stare at me like something had happened to me. I know what you think of Abraham, but he doesn’t treat me bad.”

 Reader’s Pov

“I’m sorry” he sighs. “You know how protective I can get. Especially with you…”

A chuckle escapes me and I know he doesn’t like it, but protective with me ? He broke my heart. He ripped it and threw it on the floor because I had said those words.

“Yeah…” I nod, nibbling at my lip. “You won’t find bruises on me.”

He doesn’t answer.

           When did we become like this ?

           After a silence, he hands me candies and presses play. But, chewing on sugar and my eyes on the screen, I keep my full attention on him.

           I have everything any girl would want : A lover with hot blood, beauty and a heart of gold. But I'm not any girl, and the only thing I want is Dean Winchester. The genius who thinks he's dumb, the scared little boy who lost his mom, the leader, the victim of his fate, the killer, the loyal friend, the rebel, the torturer, the perfect brother, the wary hunter, the crappy dancer ; grumpy Dean, childish Dean, stubborn Dean, all of Dean...

           I look at him and my eyes travel down his neck, his beard is fighting to grow back there but I know he won't let it. The slow movements of his chest are mesmerizing. My eyes go down, to his thighs and crotch...

           I really shouldn't let myself look there but his smell and aura are like a mermaid song and I'm drowning. His strength is radiating of him and I feel myself respond to it in everyone of my heartbeats.

           He could make me scream. He always did, so easily. Dean made me cry of pleasure more than once, sometimes without any effort, the brushes of his fingers, the burning of his kisses... And when he finally buried himself inside of me, it was like a firework in Heaven. He never had to do anything really special...

           And now I wonder : Is something broken about me ? Abe is passionate and loving, we used to work great, he was easy as whiskey. And he loves me. Why am I unable to enjoy any of it lately ?

           My eyes trace the bump in Dean’s pants and I remember the simple ecstasy of feeling his cock twitch for me. Dean... I bite my lip to hold back the moan hanging on my tongue. His thigh moves a little, strong muscles hidden in his jeans, and I think of his stomach contracting that time he came on my tongue. I…

“I see you” his deep serious voice hits the air like thunder.

I look up to meet his eyes and realize I have been staring at his crotch, licking my lips and probably visibly holding back moans.

“Do you need something ?” he asks with a proud aura on his face.

I want to punch that expression off of his perfect features.

           I look down and sigh. Yes, I do. I need him, not only want like I would like to think, but need indeed. I need him to feel my body, to make it alive, and to hear my soul breathe again.

“Dean…” I just say.

Like it was an answer or reproach but of course, he hears it for what it is.

           A call.

           So he gets up, suddenly so tall that he eclipses the TV, the light and my will. He comes in front of me, standing there, making me look up timidly through my lashes. His strong hand lands cautiously on my cheek, gently holding my face while I lean on his touch.

           I can resist him. I can.

           I think of Abe's sweet smile, of his deep voice and his arms around me. I think of this night he told me about jail and I tried all I could to make him feel safe again, that was a beautiful moment... We are something beautiful Abe and me. We are going to make it right, to make it count. Right ?

           As my heart fights itself, playing all the love songs I know at once in my head in a deafening dim of emotions, my eyes fill with tears. I know what is going to happen, and the cruel god writing my story can stop there, the end is already obvious.

           I can't resist Dean. I just can't.

           And Abe will cry, right ? He trusts me. He will take his bag and yell maybe, the sun inside of him will get clouded, he will drive away. Then I will let my body slide on the door frame, unable to hold my weight up, because I will have broken the only man that ever truly loved me.

           I look down to hide the pain from Dean, but he knows me better.

"I can leave" he says.

But it's the last thing I want because I miss him, I miss him like a part of me died years ago and I still feel empty and cold... I miss him when I'm alone, and even more when I'm not.

           When he's about to move, take a step back to leave me alone, I grab his belt and hold him in place firmly. I have no plan, no solid thought, but I know I can't be away from him for now. He smells both like the most familiar home and the wildest dream.

           My other hand grazes the fabric of his jeans on his thigh, I close my eyes for a second and a little whimper escapes me. I started touching Dean less than a day after meeting him, and it seems I can't be around him without having my hands on his body.

           He hums, staring down at me, bow legs slightly parted like he needed balance, like he was gripping the floor for both of us. Dean had always been my anchor. His shoulders look wider from down here and I want nothing more than letting my hands grab his butt to rub my cheek on his crotch like a cat marking its territory.

"Touch me like you need it, Baby" he murmurs and a little sob escapes me unexpectedly.

He never ever called me Baby.

           He never gave me any nickname like he never gave me the place I thought I could take in his heart. And Abe, he calls me Treasure. He welcomed me in his heart...

"What's wrong ?" Dean asks like he didn't know.

Dean Winchester is the world's greatest hero, saved basically everyone's life without any reward, and for this he is a saint ; and still, he's the one that is going to be the end of me. Hero or not, he's my villain.

"Everything is wrong, Dean" I answer in a broken voice. "Everything."

He squats in front of me and my hand panics at losing my grip on his belt so it grasps his flannel like my life depends on it.

"Not everything" he whispers, bending to let his poisonous lips graze my skin.

My treacherous mouth opens in reflex at the proximity of his, making him respond by biting my lower lip. I whimper again and pull him closer.

"I got you" he states, letting his burning lips trace down my chin and my neck followed by his thumb, scratching my skin with his short nail. And I catch fire.

I let my head falls back and I surrender totally.

           That's how bad he is for me : I could let him break my heart again without an hesitation, after it took me years to recover just enough to just function. And oh, I will. I will shatter the heart of the man that trusts me just to let Dean selfishly remind me how much I love him.

           His breath is burning my skin, spreading in the fabric of my t-shirt when he buries his face on my chest, opening his mouth wide to pretend to bite my breast, hand cupping my sides like he had missed me for real. I let go of the plaid fabric to grip the short strand of his hair like I can.

"Dean..." the moan I have been holding comes out, filling the room with sin and the echo of future lies.

"I got you" he repeats.

His hungry hands seize my jeans and tear it open, fighting the metallic button's resistance brutally. The fabric hurts my lower back in a last resistance but is ripped off of me the second after, taking my panties in its way.

           And before I can sit straighter now that I'm on the edge of the chair, before I can talk, think or breath. Dean's anaconda arms grab my thighs firmly and his burning breath is on my folds.

"Wh-" I start but what can I say now.

He kisses my folds like no men ever did : like he was in love with that part of me. An open mouth kiss, tongue eagerly lapping my juice from my entrance to my clit.

"AH !" I scream, arching my back but Dean doesn't take a second to breathe, burying his face on me.

I squirm, licking my lips like I was kissing him back but the place he is devouring can only respond with throbs and getting soaked, which is does.

           I'm panting, I'm being eaten by the flames of that indescribable pleasure that is back. My stomach is shaking, my temples are beating so loud. I suck a breath when he sucks at my clit, moist hand gripping the leather of the chair.

"Dean" I moan again in the subdued light of the warm room.

He answers with a hum, and his nimble tongue pushes at my entrance, making my thighs shake violently in the vise grip of his arms.

           I can't escape what Dean does to me so I let go.

           My whole body falls backward when I come, harder than I have in years, holding his hair so tight it might hurt him, legs shaken by electricity, back arching and chest fighting itself to breath. My sensible clit seems to have nerves in my whole body and I fall silent, covered in sweat, suffocated by a forbidden crushing orgasm.

           I whimper desperately, limp and lost, panting in the chair like I didn't realize yet what just hit me. But Dean knows what he's doing, he knows where this goes.

           He opens his jeans, I can feel it even though I don't see him, my head still back, moaning at the caresses of his tongue on my neck. I bite my lip hard, hand moving from the arm of the chair to his, to feel his eagerness.

           And he grabs my thighs harshly, making me fall on the floor with him and holds my back when I can't, keeping me against him.

"So wrong..." I whisper in a dying echo of my disgrace.

His hand grasps my face firmly and makes me look at him. His eyes have this fire in them, he clenches his jaw when I roll my lips a little, wetting his craved cock on me, dying of being finally filled by him.

"Keep your eyes on me" he groans, grabbing his length to guide it at my throbbing entrance.

"Dean..." I moan, fingers reaching his stomach under his clothes to feel it tremble.

"Eyes on me baby" he repeats low.

 Dean's Pov

           She can't think of him. Not now. I need her with me, I need her for me.

Feel me, baby.

           I smile slightly when she dives her unfocused pupils in my eyes. She's perfect and I love her ; but I must say when she seems to surrender so completely to my touch, that's when forgot why I asked her to stay away.

           When I enter her, her phone lights up once again in her back, on the floor. I groan loud as she wraps me like only she can, like she was trying to suck me inside her core. She's shaking, she's fighting to keep her eyes on me and I'm fighting that urge to grab her phone and shatter it in a million pieces against the wall.

           She gasps, her body threatening to fall back so I hold her.

That's it baby, stay with me, feel me, let me take you like I used to when you were mine.

My hand fists her hair and my mouth gets attracted to her pulse point so I bend to suck at it, barely thrusting for now, just enjoying to be inside of her, feeling her pulsating with desire, the concrete hard floor digging in my knees.

           Her arms wrap around me, she cling to me and I try to ignore my jealousy shouting at me.

Baby, you try to ignore me but can he do that to you ? Can he turn you into a purring cat like that ?

"Dean" she moans, clenching around me, her thighs trying to get herself even closer so she takes me impossibly deeper.

"Say you want me" I murmur against her skin in a voice I barely recognize.

"I want you" she gives in, exhaling in my ear.

           Behind her, her phone lights up one more time with a text : "I found us a case in California, Treasure."

=> PART 2

FEEDBACK IS GOLD

Tags : @parinarain @mogaruke @masterof-agony @rainflowermoon @tftumblin @deans-baby-momma @roonyxx @thefaithfulwriter @vicariouslythruspn @emeow1496 @daryldixonandfrogs @holylulusworld  @cocklesbelli @sandlee44 @screenchingartisancashbailiff @donnaintx @stormchasingchick32 @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @sister-winchesters99 @neii3n  @lyss-dw79 @im-a-shrub @sadwaywardkid​@hopelesslydevotedtoyou1912 @slyqueenj​ @i-love-superhero​ @waywardsisterandpie @sunsetsandbooks​ @mrspeacem1nusone​ @stylesismyhubs​ @deanwanddamons​ @jawritter​ @peridottea91​ @chelsea072498 @chocolateheart​ @vicmc624​ @teresa-67​ @jessie-michael​ @doctor-hp-mcu​ @hawkerz12​ @mariaenchanted​ @hobby27​

[gvbejvmes]

Drabble: August 15th

Title: August 15 Rating: PG-13 Relationships: Gabriel & Georgie, Gabriel/Jonathan Warnings: References to canon character death, first person POV Summary: Doesn’t everyone have a least favorite day of the year?

Once upon a time it was just another day; it didn’t hold any meaning to me whatsoever. Now it’s my least favorite day of the year. It’s probably the least favorite day of my life, to be honest. Though I have had some pretty bad days over my lifetime. Days I thought were going to kill me; some days that almost did. There’s something about August 15th though. It poisons the air around me. It’s hard to function. My brain becomes a twisted mess. August 15th is the harbinger of bad memories. It’s the day I wish never happened. 

Over the years I’d learned that the best way to deal with it was to forget it existed. I’d try to skip over it, like hotels with the thirteenth floor. As far as I was concerned there was no 15th in August. It was easy to do that in prison. The days blurred together there anyway. In some ways, life was easier behind bars. Learning how to function outside of steel and concrete, especially on this day, that was the hard part.

I would find more and more elaborate ways to forget what the day symbolized. It’s funny. Art has always been my escape from life, but this is the one day a year where art makes things worse. Her voice lingers more when I try to paint. Past comments and compliments on my pieces echo through my mind. My hand tends to draw her face over and over again. It’s best just to avoid art all together.

The last couple of years have been hard. The coping mechanisms I had created were tainted with other memories and I had to figure out a way to make it though. I don’t think I succeeded very well. It’s funny. They say time makes things easier. Whoever came up with that particularly popular saying is full of shit. All time does is give you time to focus on everything you could have done differently. 

I see Georgie all the time, and I don’t mean in the “I see dead people” sort of way. I see her when CJ wrinkles her nose in a perfect imitation of my sister. I see her when I stare at DJ for too long. While CJ definitely took after the demon I married, DJ is pure James. Sometimes when I’m caught up in my work, when I’m not paying attention, when I see her out of the corner of my eye, I think she’s Georgie. It breaks my heart every time when she’s not.

Everything feels suffocating today, but that’s nothing new. Neither is my desire to claw my way out of my skin and slip into the abyss. Everything is too raw, too temperamental. The hedonist in me wants to open the package Kale gave me on Thursday - a mixture of different psychedelics that he guaranteed would make me feel no pain. A part of me wants to wallow in the pain. It’s the last thing I have left. 

Today is the 18th anniversary of my sister’s death. It’s also the 18th anniversary of the day I lost my freedom, the day I went to prison. We both died that day. My death was just more philosophical.

My fiancé’s body is wrapped around mine when I wake up. It’s a small miracle that I’m up before him, but I suspect he’s faking still being asleep. He knows what today is; he’s always known what today is. Fuck, he probably knows more details about the original August 15th than I do. 

He read the files. He interviewed the witnesses. He’d seen the crime scene photos and he’d been to the house. He watched me relive every excruciating detail while a jury of my so-called peers watched my face for reactions. He knows how I’m feeling better than I do. He knows more about that night than I ever wanted to know. 

His usually comforting presence against my back makes me feel like I’m going to burst into flames any minute. Carefully, I slip out of his embrace and pad to the other side of the room. I watch him for a couple of moments. He’s definitely faking. Felony slips out of the bed after me. The other dogs are strewn across the floor, but the only one spoiled enough to get to sleep in the bed with us is the baby. I’m not surprised that Felony is following me. She feeds off Jay’s emotions. She’s definitely his little spy. 

It’s too early to go to the Collective, but that’s where I’ll spend most of the day working on the fall event calendar and figuring out what the hell Kale did to the budget and payroll. We don’t need a budget, not really, but I rarely get to use my degree. It’s almost relaxing to balance the books. When I first became Kale’s partner, I didn’t realize how delusional he was when it came to how much things cost. He was spending thousands more each month than he needed to be. For as much as I love to shop, I also know how to buy in bulk which apparently is something foreign for the ridiculously wealthy.

I pull the throw blanket and a pillow off the couch in the den and wander over to my window seat. And it is mine. Clashing aesthetic or not, the one thing I insisted upon when we were making this house ours was a window seat. Before our divorce, no, our separation, I rarely used the damn thing. Now that I’m living back at home, I use it all the time. It’s funny the things you miss when you don’t have them. 

I curl up on the bench seat and almost immediately Felony jumps up into the crook of my bent knees. Within minutes I’m asleep. It’s not surprising. I could probably sleep the entire day away if I really wanted to. 

The next time I wake up I can smell bacon and coffee. My fiancé smiles at me, but he knows how I get on August 15th. He doesn’t say anything. I don’t like words today. Words are what started all this. The wrong words left my sister dead. An ill-thought out confession cost me almost 7 years of my life.

Jay wraps an arm around me and presses a kiss to the side of my head. I lean my weight into him, knowing he’s more than prepared to support me and what level of mess I become today. He feeds me a piece of bacon and I let him. I’ve learned over the years that shutting him out today makes things worse. It’s better when I let him in. After all, he’s the only other person who knows how bad today is.

I won’t see the girls today. I never do. It’s too hard for me to look at them, especially at DJ today. My heart can’t handle that level of pain. Jay is probably the only person I’ll talk to today. If I decide to speak at all today.

I know he won’t let me be alone all day. I know he’ll stop by my office at the Collective at least once, if only to make sure I eat something. And I know that once 5 o’clock rolls around he’ll come and collect me. I don’t drive on August 15th. I can’t get in a car really, especially not in the backseat. It’s too much for me today. Too much. 

“Briel?” And Jay is helping me into a seat at the island. I don’t even remember moving. “You with me, baby?”

I nod, and bury my face into the crook of his neck for a moment before letting him go so he can finish breakfast.

It’s my least favorite day of the year, but it could be worse.

[descendantofthesparrow]

Protective Harry Hook x reader

Hi, I was wondering if you could write a fanfic for Harry hook x reader. Where maybe the reader was really close friends with the VKs before they left the isle and after they left she joined Uma’s crew (became really close with Uma) and got together with Harry hook. But when the vks come back they found out that reader had a baby with Harry and they aren’t supportive and think she’s betrayed them. And Harry steps in being over protective Dad and Lover. I love you writing, sorry if it’s picky 💗 

a/n: for this im going to make the reader already pregnant for three months, cuz the vks are only gone for six months, not really enough time for a baby to be born safely, so reader and Harry have been in a relationship for five months.

Key

Y/n- your name H/c- hair color E/c- eye color S/c- skin color H/l- hair length H-height V/p- villain parent

B/g- Baby gender B/n- baby name

–(y/n) POV– --D1--

You took a deep breath, trying to pump yourself up to tell your friends Mal, Evie, Carlos, and Jay, about your little “problem” and it might be your last chance to do it, as the four of them would be leaving to auradon within the hour

…oh what was the problem you ask? Well, you’re pregnant, and Harry Hook was the father, he didn't know either, hell! Your friends didn't even know you two were in a relationship!!! Only Uma knew, and luckily she decided to keep your relationship a secret.

Now you may be asking, how did you get pregnant, to answer that, let's go back to half a year ago. You were wandering the Isle after a bad incidence with your (v/p) and you were near the docks and when all of a sudden a group of pirates jumped you, and as they were about to take advantage of you, Harry showed up and saved you. Afterward he took you back to Ursula's chip shop and Uma (who took a couple minutes of convincing to let Harry fix you up, because your Mals friend) allowed you in after acknowledging that you had never teased her and had never called her shrimpy, and after that incident you and Harry had continued talking and soon an emotional and sexual relationship had begun between the two of you. and because the isle didn't really have birth control options, you had gotten pregnant, and with the help of Uma, she confirmed it.

And now it was three months after you found out, and you had yet to tell your friends of your predicament or Harry of your holding of his love child in your womb.

ruffling your (h/c) hair you rushed over to your friends and grasped Evie's shoulder, turning to you she hummed and tilted her head

“(y/n)? what's up? we have to leave in a minute or two.”

“I know, I just need to tell you all something before you go.”

she nodded and gestured for the others to come over, as the four stared at you curiously you took a deep breath and prepared yourself to tell them about you and harry

“I have something really big to tell you guys and promise you won't flip out ok?”

the four nodded slowly, and you decided to blurt out what was going on

“im-” 

“Mal~!”

“Evie~!”

“Carlos!”

“Jay!”

the fours parents interrupted you and the four turned and made their way to the limo, Evie turning back to you,

“you can tell us when we get back (y/n)! see ya!”

Mal then turned to you as well

“and stay away from the docks, Uma will take advantage of our trip to auradon”

you stilled, never telling Mal about your close friendship with Uma.

“um, abo-”

“and stay away from Harry too, he’ll try something while we’re gone im sure of it”

aaannnd your brain went into auto mode,

“sure thing Mal, I’ll just stick it in the hideout,”

she nodded and climbed into the limo.

as the limo drove away only one thought ran through your head.

‘well I fucked that up’

--three days later--

“I tell him, I don't tell, I tell him, I don't tell him...”

you plucked off the last petal of the dying flower “ I tell him”

Uma ground out “finally! we've been sitting here for half an hour!!! okay now go tell Harry and-”

“Tell me wha?”

both you and Uma squealed and jumped around to see Harry staring down at both of you, eyebrow raised and trying to hold in his laughter.

“Harry! don't scare us like that!” you whined at Him, standing up and mushing your face in his chest, feeling it rumble from his laughter.

“don't scare ye? that's my speciality ~!” he cackled as he wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on your head. Uma rolled her eyes and stood up, brushing off her pants.

“well im going to get away from this sappyness, (y/n), Tell him”

Harry's face scrunched up in confusion? “tell me wha? (y/n)?” you bit your lip and stepped back from Harry, playing with your fingers and shuffling your feet.

“Bonnie? ye alright?” glancing up at Harry you saw him staring at you in worry and fear.

“is there something wrong? are-are ye breaking up with me?! o-or-” 

“no!” you gasped grabbing his hands and held them to your stomach “im-im pregnant!”

Harry stopped babbling and stared at you in shock, glancing at his hand which were placed upon your stomach, where his child was.

“how” he rasped “how long?” 

“three months” you looked up at Harry, his eyes beginning to fill with an emotion you couldn't place. “Harry?” he jumped and returned his attention to you “how...how do you feel about it?”

Harry stared at you for a few moments, a look in his eyes you couldn't describe other than pure joy “i-” his voice cracked and thickened as he spoke “I love ye (y/n). and im gonna be the best damn father I can be on this dumpster fire of an island”

tears streamed down your face and you jumped into his arms and he picked you up and spun you around. “well” you choked out “we won't have to raise it on this dipshit of a place” Harry raised an eyebrow “what why?”

you looked at him with a mischievous grin “Mal and her gang are gonna nab the wand and get us off this hell hole” 

“are-are ye serious!!!! holy fuck!!”

Harry lifted you in his arms, spinning you around once more. both of you laughing, one thing of your minds, neither would have to raise your child in this dangerous place.

you just hoped your friends would return soon.

--time skip to coronation--

“wh-what?” you whispered, tears burning at your eyes, Harry held an expression of rage, gripping your hand tightly.

“those-those, TRAITORS” 

all around you, food was chucked at the tv screen. the rage of Harry and the other patrons of the chip shop resounded in your ears. 

you couldn't breath

how could they!

they left you here to rot!!!

your ears started to ring, the world going black. your stomach hurt. you couldn't breathe.

“(y/n)?” you heard Harry's voice, but it seemed so far away.

“(y/n)? love?”

the last thing you felt before passing out was the sensation of being picked up by Harry before everything went black.

---

“gakit cunts!!!” the sound of something breaking broke through your subconscious

Harry's voice broke through the darkness that surrounded you.

“they jus left her here, THEY LEFT HER HERE! WHILE SHE’S PREGNANT WITH ME CHILD”

“Harry! chill!!!! ” Uma, thank god she was here too, trying to make Harry calm down.

“NO I won't CHILL, THEY'RE BASTERIOUS SLUDGE PUSS FILLED-

“HARRY!” 

“WHAT!”

“(Y/n)’s awake”

Harrys footsteps raced towards you, you heard his knees hit the floor and his calloused hand cupped your face. 

“(y/n)? love? are ye okay?!”

groaning you opened your eyes to see Harry's ocean blue eyes staring at you with pure worry and concern.

you smiled and grasped his hand “yes im okay” you rasped.

he breathed a sigh of relief and pulled you into a hug.

“im sorry lass, I should have paid more attention to ye, I could've prevented that”

“im fine Harry, no harm no foul”

He only nodded and climbed onto the bed and pulled you into his lap.

“jus be careful from now on ye hear”

you laughed, “practice what you preach hooky”

“you two are adorable” Uma right forgot she was here.

“shut it Uma” Harry spoke face flushed

“pft ahahaaha!!!” you and Uma burst out laughing. ah Harry could be so funny somtimes.

---D2---

Hard to believe its been 6 months since the Core four left, 4 months since they betrayed you and left you here. and a month and a half since your baby (b/g) was born. the precious thing was born a month and a half early. they looked so much like Harry, but at the same time so much like you...god you loved them, both of them, Harry and (b/n) that is. Harry, being the protective worrisome pirate he is, tutting over you constantly while and after your pregnancy. trying to carry you everywhere, not letting you steal anything. instead, he did it for you and grabbing double. Uma let him keep a lot of what he stole. he moved you into his room on the ship. basically, he’s a protective dork.

now you were walking around with your babe in your arms making your way back from curl up and dye, letting dizzy babysit (b/n) while you got your hair done. cooing at the adorable (b/g), you were startled by a familiar voice.

“(y/n)?!” you turned to see Evie, Carlos, Jay and...Ben. your face turned blank, the sting of betrayal still burned deep.

“is..is that a-” your blank face twisted in rage, and you hissed at her

“yes, this is my baby. wouldn't expect you to know, as, ya know! you abandoned me.” the four winced, Ben seemingly gathering a cloud of guilt upon his face.

“(y/n)” Evie stalked forward, grasping your shoulder “who’s is it”

you growled and pulled away from her “don't touch me! and the father is-”

“step away from the lass and the babe now.” Harry's voice broke through the tense standoff, gently grasping your shoulder and pulling you and the babe behind him, brandishing his sword and hook. creating a barrier between you and your old friends.

Jay walked forward and tried to pull you from behind Harry, thinking that Harry was going to hurt you and your babe, not knowing that Harry was the father.

Harry growled and slashed him with his sword forcing Jay to step back.

“back away from me girl and child! or else il hook ye!”

“your-” Jay sputtered “your child!?! how!!!”

“Aww, Jay~ did ye forget how sex works~? well, ya see-!” 

“Harry stop, not helping.”  Harry snorted and settled into a protective stance once more.

“how is the child even yours Hook! there's no way (y/n) could've gotten pregnant and given birth, in the time we were gone!”

you decided to step in

“when you guys left for Auradon for the first time, I was already three months pregnant, and have had a relationship with Harry for five months. I never told you because I knew Mal and the rest of you would throw me to the streets.”

the three held a look of shame, as they knew it to be true. nowadays they wouldn't, but back then? they would have done it without a second glance.

“you can't trust him!”

“oh really? and why should I trust you? he’s not the one who abandoned me!”

‘‘da da~! *sqee*”  the six of you jumped when all of a sudden (b/n) reached out to Harry and called for him, making grabby hands at him. giggling all the while.

‘holy crap that's so goddamn adorable’ was all the group could think.

as Harry sheathed his sword and took his tiny babe into his arms, Ben stood there thinking of how him not bringing over the next group of kids greatly harmed the ones still on the Isle.

Ben made up his mind, you, Harry and your Baby would be part of the next group coming over to the Isle.

“well, we’ll be going now,” you spoke, tugging on Harry's jacket. urging him to head back to the ship. luckily he obeyed and followed you, carefully holding (b/n) in his arms. “don't get caught” with that you left, Harry watching your back.

The four watched you go, shame, regret, guilt, and also weirdly...relief. you were being taken care of. you were better off then they thought you were.

they would just need to make sure that Mal was not the only one they would retrieve from the Isle. even if it meant taking Mals arch enemy along for the ride.

--the end!--