#this uh...got very rambly but yes i love neon so much ok?

[tokuteasings]

Reasons you like Neon?

Not only is Neon just adorablee with her cute little dancing, her outfits, her singing, and literally everything about her but...Neon is just so....

Honestly it's like looking into a mirror for me, it's this urge to protect because we're so similar - two peas in a pod. We both have shitty parents and we both are romantics but... I admire Neon for having the strength to continue on despite everything she's been through. She's stood up to her mom and continues to rebel against the odds. She was willing to backstab Ace and Keiwa for her goals and I respect the fuck outta that. I'm too much of a soft-hearted bitch for that.

She's honest to herself, she knows what she wants and will fight for it. I admire her for that.

When you look at her chara song too, she mentions in the lyrics "I'll fulfill my desires and just be myself" LIKE GO OFF BABY GO OFFFF

Her song makes me emo because she keeps going on about wanting to obtain love and staying as herself. Sometimes love is out of reach for her and in general. But I think learning to love yourself is just as important as loving others and when you love yourself, you learn to love others just as much. This is from my personal experience but...I just want her to be happy...I want to see her get a love in some sort of form. Whether platonic, familial, or romantic...get something that I know is possible for her to obtain and succeed with.

[etherrealoblivion]

A Broken System

MASTERLIST

Summary: At her birthday celebration, Y/N is out on the town enjoying herself when she runs into a cute FBI agent who she’d love to take home and do terrible things to. Normally, someone meeting an FBI agent at a bar wouldn’t be that big of a deal. There’s just one, miniscule, microscopic, meager, problem... Y/N is only twenty.

tags: Large Age Difference, power imbalance, choking, Dom/sub, safe sex, vaginal penetration, dirty talk, cliffhanger.

A/N: this just made so much more sense in third person. i tried replacing it with second person, but trust me it did not work. hope you enjoy! gif by @toyboxboy​

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Words: 5,930

~

Spencer Reid never really thought he was attractive.

Probably had something to do with his perpetually messy hair, gangly stature, and his tendency to ramble on and on and on and. . .

Yeah. Like that.

Another factor definitely was the fact that he was in his 30’s and had never really had a stable relationship. Sure, he’d had relationships with a few women. Well, two women. The first being a girl he’d met in college with whom he had a brief fling. Spencer didn’t really count it as a stable relationship due to the fact they barely even kissed. And the other woman, the only woman he’d ever really loved, died tragically several years ago. 

Maeve.

Maeve was the real reason Spencer didn’t like going to bars with Morgan or being set up on dates by Penelope. She was the reason that Spencer wasn’t interested in anyone anymore. Who could possibly compare to Maeve?

Damn it. That was the other reason he wasn’t looking to date. He knew how the mind worked and there was no doubt that if any new person came into his life, she’d be unconsciously compared to Maeve. He couldn’t put anyone through that. 

So, Spencer Reid stayed single. Which, for him, was relatively easy. Whenever someone started to get a little too close with him, he’d blabber and spout facts until they ran off. Morgan would ask what happened and Reid would just put on a slight frown, mumbling how she had to go. 

The charade got more effortless the more they went out. Morgan, almost always going home on the arm of some woman and Spencer content to get a cab back to his own place, have a quick efficient orgasm, and fall asleep.

He had a system. And no one was going to break it.

~

Y/N hated the summertime. 

Well, she didn’t usually. Anywhere else on the planet it would be mildly enjoyable. The beach, ice cream, staying up all night. All that fun crap. In Washington D.C, however, summer was hell.

But! When one was accepted into Georgetown and their parents offered to pay FULL tuition plus housing, how can one say no?

Seriously, she wanted to know.

After two whole years in this armpit of a town, Y/N had finally gotten used to the sweltering heat that plagued the city during the summer. Whatever. She just stayed in the comfortable A.C. all day anyway.

But, the summer before her third year was almost over, and the only thing she could think about now was graduating with a major in Journalism. She didn’t really like most of the courses, but it’s what she needed to do to become a full-time editor.

Living in a rent-free apartment was heaven. No roommates meant no worrying about, well, anything. The only problem was, her parents could hold it over her head every time they called. Which is why she never answered their calls.

Today, however, answering was unavoidable.

Because not only was it the day before her first class, today was her twentieth birthday.

Y/N was in the middle of getting dressed to go out with her friends when her phone vibrated from the kitchen table.

“Hello?”

She tried so hard to suppress the cringe at her mom’s voice.

“Sweetie! How are you? Are you eating?”

“Yes, mom.”

Oh boy. Strong start, mom. 

“You look skinny in the pictures on Facebook!”

Yeah, she was definitely going to be late.

Surprisingly, it only took five minutes to push her mom off the phone, insisting that her friends were on their way and she had to keep getting ready. 

A sharp rap on the door saved her.

“Come on!! It’s almost ten!” Y/N’s friend, Mina, said, annoyed. “All the old people leave the bars at ten and if we don’t get there soon, the bouncers won’t let us in!”

Y/N didn’t really understand the logic there. Hot girls always got into bars. Especially late at night. How were there not more crimes committed in clubs? Maybe she’d find out in her first class tomorrow.

“Hey!” Mina snapped her out of it, “Come on! Let’s go.”

They arrived outside a dinky little club a few minutes later. It had taken Y/N a while to get accustomed to how close everything was together in this town. Before college, she had been a small-town girl. Promise ring and everything. That, uh. That didn’t last long.

Before they got in line, Mina took a long satin sash out of her purse and secured it across Y/N’s torso.

“What the hell’s this?”

The sash was white with large pink flowy letters that poignantly spelled out: Birthday Bitch.

“It’s a sash.”

Three of Mina’s friends strode up, quickly exchanging hugs and wishing Y/N a happy birthday.

“I see that it’s a sash, but why am I wearing it?”

Mina confidently strode up to the bouncer, Y/N at her side, fake ID at the ready. Technically, it was the right birthdate, the year was just a little off.

“Go through. Happy Birthday,” the guy said, barely sparing the ID a glance, more focused on the huge sash. It made sense. She didn’t look her age. No one would think she was only in college by taking a glance at her.

“Oh, thank you.”

“Look,” Mina pulled her aside just before they entered, “this makes every single guy in there want to buy you a drink. So, go enjoy a free Shirley Temple, on me.”

Y/N scoffed and entered the club, immediately overwhelmed by the booming of the music.

Jesus Christ. How did people not die from this? It felt like her heart was beating out of her chest.

Sure, she’d been in a bar before. But not a real, proper club. She was pretty sure she saw some people wearing neon. Oh my god, there was a DJ.

Suppressing a laugh, she headed to the bar. At least there was a bar. There were so many people gathered around though that she couldn’t get much access to the one bartender on staff.

Luckily, he spotted her sash that seemed to shine under the blacklights.

“Hey, make some room for the birthday girl!” 

And the crowd parted like the red sea, every man’s head turned towards her, and she cautiously approached the bartender who gave her a quick wink.

“Scotch. Neat.”

A dark man with a silver nose ring slid onto the stool next to her.

“It’s on me,” he addressed the bartender, staring at her the whole time. “So. Birthday girl. How old are you turning?”

She smiled softly. The sash was working great, but now she had to come up with a way to answer his question without explicitly lying. 

“Who wants to know?”

Maybe flirting would be distracting enough.

He smiled, glancing down for a moment, then holding out his hand. Ha. Men.

“I’m Jon.”

Ugh. She hated handshakes. But for this man, she might be able to make an exception.

“Y/N.”

Five minutes later, she wished with all her heart she could take the handshake back. Y/N should have known better than to talk to a guy at a club. They were all sleazebags. But! She did manage to get a couple of drinks out of it.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said after his fifth time mentioning Outback Steakhouse.

But before she could leave the bar discreetly, a hand wrapped around her arm, yanking her back.

“Hey, what’s the matter? I thought we were talking?”

Y/N may have been a small-town girl, but that didn’t stop her from grabbing his shoulders and driving her knee up into his crotch, stomping off toward the exit.

Only when she got outside did she realize how fast her heart was beating. She leaned over, hands on her knees to catch her breath.

A soft hand on her shoulder made her snap around, grab the hand and twist it around the stranger’s back, shoving him up against the alley wall.

“I’m sorry!” the man squawked shrilly. “I’m sorry!” It wasn’t Jon.

“What were you doing?” she demanded, not releasing him yet.

“I saw you lean over. I just wanted to see if you were ok!”

She finally drank in the man’s appearance. He was wearing a soft purple sweater vest over a grey button-down, slacks, and worn black converse on his feet.

Confident that he wasn’t a threat, she released him and took a step back.

The man rubbed his elbow softly, glancing at her chest. Before she could tell him off for staring at her rack, he pointed to the sash.

“Is it your birthday?”

She looked down. Oh, he’d been looking at the sash of course. Then why did she feel … disappointed?

“Oh, yeah. Some guy bought me a drink and got a little, er, touchy.”

Suddenly, the man’s face went dark.

“Who is he? Where is he?”

He started to walk back into the club but she stopped him, reaching out and gently grabbing his arm.

“Hey! It’s fine. I kicked him in the crotch.”

The man’s eyes switched from anger to surprise in a flash. He flustered for a moment, before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking back into the alley.

Y/N now took a closer look at his face. He had deep, wise brown eyes, a small five-o-clock shadow gracing his jaw, and very full lips, the latter of which he was biting profusely. Aw. He was nervous. But why?

Maybe because he was in an alley with a random girl who had just been groped at a club and he didn’t know what to do.

She chuckled, attempting to diffuse the tension.

“Um. I didn’t get your name?”

He smiled brightly, thankful for the change in topic.

“Oh! Of course, sorry. I’m Spencer!”

And Y/N braced herself for the telltale outstretching of the hand.

But none came. He simply stood there, one hand in his pocket and the other waving at her, a dopey smile on his face.

Her face lit up. 

“You didn’t try to shake my hand,” she muttered, awed.

The man, Spencer, got an embarrassed look on his face, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry, I, uh. I’m a bit of a germaphobe. But, really, everyone should be! The amount of germs passed in a handshake is staggering. They really should be abolished altogether.”

“Right! People should just bow their heads or, or, wave!” she said excitedly, gesturing to his hand. “I mean a handshake is like a hug with a part of you that comes in contact with everything! Might as well go up to someone and start making out with them.”

As she spoke, his face lit up in wonder.

“Right? It’s crazy! But the thing is, some people actually do that! I was in that club for fifteen minutes and I swear I saw three couples leave together that definitely didn’t go in together.”

“I know!” she said, starting to pace in the cramped alley. “I mean, who goes home with someone that you just met! They could be a serial killer for all you know!”

She looked at Spencer and was delighted to see a joyful expression on his face. It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t introduced herself.

“I’m Y/N. Sorry for blabbering,” she waved, chuckling slightly.

Spencer smiled even wider.

“Don’t be sorry! Usually, I’m the one who has to apologize.”

“Apologize for what?”

“Blabbering,” he said sheepishly, hands back in his pockets. When he was talking, they had been moving about wildly. It was kind of endearing.

“I don’t know,” Y/N said, considering. “Blabbering is underrated. One could argue it’s the best way to learn useless information.”

“Well, I’d agree but no information is really useless.”

Y/N held up a finger.

“‘Information is useless if it is not applied to something important or if you will forget it before you have a chance to apply it.’”

Spencer’s mouth fell open.

“Timothy Harris?”

She nodded. “The 4-Hour Workweek. Outdated, but still applies.”

When she noticed his expression, it nearly knocked her breath away. He was looking at her like no one ever had before. Like he’d just realized the most important thing in the universe.

Before her cowardice could catch up, she took a step forward, closing the distance between them. His face went blank, shocked by the sudden approach. He nearly gasped when she spoke.

“It’s totally ridiculous to go home with someone you just met, right?”

Spencer’s eyes widened.

“Totally.”

“Why were you out tonight in the first place? You don’t exactly seem like the club-going type.”

He smiled softly.

“I, uh, just got a promotion last week. My friend Morgan wanted to take me out to celebrate. It was either this or karaoke.”

She chuckled softly, their faces so close he must have felt her breath.

“I don’t know, I’d have liked to see your rendition of Bad Romance. Has anyone ever told you you’ve got a whole Lady Gaga vibe?”

“You should see my Beyonce.” And he did a little mime of the Single Ladies dance, sending Y/N into a fit of giggles. Without thinking — probably due to the trace amounts of alcohol in her system, not enough to be drunk, but enough to be tipsy — she reached up her arms around his shoulders, clasping them together behind his neck like a teen slow-dancing at prom.

Spencer seemed startled by the sudden physical contact. He froze, hands unmoving at his sides.

Y/N pulled her arms back, stepping away from him, discouraged and embarrassed.

“Sorry,” she said, collecting herself and walking back towards the club door. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Wait!” he called before she could reenter the club. A tiny part of her let out a breath in relief. She turned around to see him with a hand outstretched toward her, frozen with the uncertainty of what to do next.

He recovered quickly, a blush visible on his cheeks in the lamplight of the alley.

“If you’re leaving, would you, um. Could I walk you home?”

She had no idea what possessed her in that moment but just as he spoke, she walked up to Spencer, threaded her fingers through his hair, and pulled him down into a passionate kiss.

To her surprise, he responded immediately, running his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against him, eagerly returning the kiss.

His lips were so warm. He tasted very faintly of alcohol and maybe a breath mint? Y/N let herself fall into the sensation.

Suddenly, her back was pressed up against the wall of the alley, Spencer’s hands lighting a trail of fire down her body. He hesitated, pulling back briefly to make sure she was ok.

A glint in her eye, she yanked him back down, tongues clashing together in a blaze of glory. He hiked her leg up around his hips, pressing them closer together. Y/N could feel the hardness in his pants pressing into her stomach, sending a wave of heat down to her core.

She pulled back. If they went any further, she didn’t know if she’d be able to leave the alley.

Y/N tried to hide the smile on her face but it was no use. She beamed at Spencer, linking her arm through his elbow.

“Lead the way. Wait, that doesn’t make sense, you’re taking me home. I’ll lead the way!”

And so they walked, arm in arm down the busy D.C. streets, silently enjoying each other’s company.

They arrived outside her apartment fifteen minutes later, Y/N clumsily unlocking the door, nervous from the thought of what was about to happen. They hadn’t explicitly said anything in particular. Was he going to come in? Would she invite him?

Spencer, it seemed, was also daunted, standing awkwardly on the threshold of her place, hands buried in his pockets.

An idea sprung into Y/N’s brain.

She approached him, wrapping her hands around his neck again only this time, his hands rested lightly on her waist.

“Still think going home with a stranger is a bad idea?”

Spencer chuckled softly, stroking the exposed skin of her waist from where her top had ridden up.

“I’m still debating it.”

“Oh?”

He slid his hand around the sash, fingers hovering above her chest.

“I never asked, how old did you turn?”

She smiled. For some reason, she felt she could trust this man. The worst that could happen was he calls the cops on her for having a fake ID. She could deal with that. Destroy the evidence, bat her eyes. Easy. Besides, he looked barely of age himself. She quickly wondered what he did for a living? He did say he got a promotion.

It would be easiest to just tell him the truth.

“I don’t know if I should tell you this…”

He chuckled lowly in her ear, moving his lips gently across her neck.

“I can handle it.”

She gasped at the sensation, legs clamping together.

“Officially, it’s my twenty-third. At least, that’s what it says on my ID. One of them.”

Spencer froze, waiting for her to go on.

Y/N quickly backtracked.

“It’s okay! I’m twenty! Not a minor, no worries.”

But Spencer pulled away, an extremely worried look on his face despite her assurance.

“What?” she asked.

“You’re underage.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah? Come on, by one year. What, you never had a fake ID?”

“No!” he said shrilly, running a hand through his hair.

“Spencer, it’s ok! It’s not like I’m gonna get caught. I look much older and when are there cops at a place like that?”

He reached into his pocket and fished out a folded wallet. Snapping it open, Y/N’s jaw dropped at the FBI badge with his picture in the corner.

She floundered for a moment, unable to truly comprehend what was happening.

“You’re . . .”

“Yep,” he said shortly, pocketing the badge.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much my reaction too,” he said, sighing. “I should arrest you.”

Y/N took a step back, incredulous.

“Arrest me?”

“You have a fake ID. You’re clearly drunk.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Great idea, Spencer. Book me. Take me down to the FBI and tell them exactly what happened to lead to you finding out I’m only twenty. I’m sure they’ll need very specific details.”

A look of realization flitted across Spencer’s face and he buried his head in his hands, groaning.

“How old are you anyway?!” she demanded, upset at him for being upset.

“Thirty-four!” he shouted, throwing his arms up in the air.

Oh shit.

This was bad.

He was fourteen years older than her, in the FBI, and probably was seconds away from arresting her.

“There’s no way you’re thirty-four. I mean, look at you!”

He rolled his eyes, snorting, and beginning to pace the small hallway.

“This is exactly what I get. I meet a girl I really like for the first time in years and she’s decades younger than me. And a criminal!”

“Hey!” she said, shoving his shoulder. “Not decades. I’m not a criminal. And how the hell do you think I feel?  I’m out trying to have fun on my birthday, some guy gropes me leading me to run into the perfect man, take him back to my apartment thinking I’m gonna get lucky only to find out he’s a cop who’s gonna arrest me. Best birthday ever.”

Spencer eyed her carefully.

“Get lucky?”

Y/N’s eyes went wide. Shit. She hadn’t meant to reveal that part. Even though it was pretty obvious, something about it not being said added to the excitement.

“Did you really . . . I mean were you…. Um.” Spencer seemed to lose all authoritative tone suddenly, stammering nervously. It was such a 180, it shocked Y/N. 

“Was I going to let you fuck me?”

He cringed at the bluntness but nodded sheepishly.

“Yeah, Spencer. I was.” She scoffed. “Honestly, I still would. But I understand if I’m more than you can handle,” she said coyly, trying to keep a straight face. “Just please don’t arrest me, Sir.”

His expression darkened at her words. Something deep and lustful behind it. Feeling bold, she went with it.

“Or is it Agent?” she cocked her head, holding a finger to her lips in thought. “How do I address you properly, sir?”

A small groan left Spencer’s mouth and he stepped forward, brushing a hand over her hair.

“We shouldn’t do this, Y/N…”

Slowly, she backed up into her apartment, pulling him with her.

“We shouldn’t.” She gently led him to her bedroom, sitting down on the edge of the bed, him towering over her. “To be fair, you’re the one with handcuffs.”

He groaned again, wiping a hand down his face.

“This is a bad idea.”

But he crouched down in front of her, pressing his forehead to her exposed knee, breathing deeply.

“Spencer,” it was barely a whisper but he met her eyes instantly. She smiled gently, reaching out to him and coaxing him up from the floor so he was hovering above her, mouths inches apart. “Listen, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” she assured him. “But I want this.”

She leaned back, pulling him with her so he was lying atop her, an obvious bulge pressing against her through their clothing.

“I want this, Spencer.”

Y/N hoped that he knew he could leave if he wanted. She didn’t want to pressure him into anything. Despite the age difference, she seemed to be the one more in control.

Spencer lowered his head, sighing.

“Fuck,” he moaned, lightly thrusting against her, a moan escaping her mouth at the contact.

That seemed to be the last straw.

He sat up, ripping his sweater vest off along with his button-down, quickly moving back over her, lips latching to her neck and chest.

Oh thank god. She wasn’t sure if she’d have been able to stand it if he’d left. But from the way he was touching her, hands moving up and down her sides, gently pulling her skirt down, looking up at her every now and then to make sure it was alright, he wasn’t going anywhere.

She just spurred him on, stripping off her top and bra, now only wearing her panties.

Spencer groaned at the sight, a hand reaching up, hovering over her breast. She arched her back up into his hand, letting out a gasp as he started to fondle her. 

God, his hands were huge. And nimble. Oh, so nimble.

She reached for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and tossing it across the room, pushing his pants down faster than possible.

He groaned again, a magical sound, reaching a hand down to stroke her through her panties, coaxing a gasp from her beautiful lips.

In a flash, Spencer had pulled down her panties and buried his head between her legs.

Y/N gasped, hand flying to the back of his head, edging him on.

He slipped two fingers into her, his tongue flicking against her clit wildly, making her writhe and moan on the bed, gasping his name.

“Spencer, Spencer.” It took all the resolve she had to pull his head away from her. “I need you to fuck me.”

Spencer looked at her, trying to read her expression.

“Y/N . . . are you sure?”

Rather than answer, she yanked him up, crashing their mouths together, one hand quickly pushing down his boxers, his erection springing free.

Good god.

Wow.

How the hell was she supposed to fit that inside her?

She looked up at him, impressed, only to see a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Well,” she said, kicking off the panties pooled around her ankles, laid bare underneath the stranger on top of her. “This night gets better by the second.”

His size was a little daunting, but the thought of him slowly filling her up, probably not being able to fit all the way in, only added to her desire.

He dipped his head down, stealing a quick yet passionate kiss.

“Do you have . . ?”

“Yeah, in the drawer.”

He reached over, grabbed a condom, and rolled it on. It looked extremely tight on him. Y/N unconsciously licked her lips. Spencer chuckled.

“Maybe next time. I need to be inside you.”

And with that, he flung her legs around his hips, positioning his cock at her entrance, slowly running it up and down, moistening the condom with her juices.

God. The feeling of him being so close and yet so far was almost enough to push her over the edge right there. He had been a god with his tongue and she was desperate for more friction.

Reaching down, she lightly circled her clit, moaning at the instant pleasure.

Before she could enjoy it much, hands gripped her wrists, pinning them above her on the bed, Spencer staring at her with a dark look.

“If you wanna touch yourself, you have to ask permission. Understood?”

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

Words escaped her so she settled for a small nod.

“Use your words.”

His tone was so commanding the word left her mouth the moment he finished speaking.

“Yes.”

He lightly placed his hand around her neck, not applying any pressure, just hovering.

“Yes, what?”

Fuck. She wondered if it was possible to come just from being talked to.

“Yes, sir.”

And with that, he slid inside her, slowly filling her up with his length, moaning roughly at the sensation.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open, watching as Spencer’s face tightened, jawline even sharper, and a dark look in his eye. He carefully applied a bit more pressure to her throat, quickly releasing his hand afterward.

They were both still as she adjusted to the size of him inside her.

“Is this ok?” his voice sounded so different than it had a moment ago. He had shifted back to the geeky guy she’d met in the alley.

She nodded gently at him, running a hand over his cheek in a way that was surely far too personal for a one night stand. 

“My safeword is apple.”

He froze for a moment, shocked. Apparently she was kinkier than he’d expected. 

Tired of not being fucked by this man, she dug her heels into his back, directing him to move.

He did without hesitation, groaning at the sensation of slowly pulling out and thrusting back in. 

The feeling overwhelmed both of them, a litany of curses and moans falling from their mouths. Spencer’s hand moved back to her throat, squeezing much harder now that he knew what to listen for if she wanted to stop.

The sound of her moaning was enough to make him come right there and then. That, with the feeling of her around him and the fact that his hand was around her throat, totally in control.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”

Oh my god, where was this coming from? Her nails scraped down his back, leaving a trail of marks.

“You like feeling me fuck you?” he wrapped a hand around her leg, pulling it higher to try to hit the magical spot inside of her. “You like when I wrap my hand around your pretty little neck? Showing you how in control I am of you.”

She nodded ecstatically, legs tightening around him. She was definitely close to coming.

“What were you thinking? Going to a bar when you’re underage. Then leading a stranger to your home, intending to let him fuck you silly. Finding out I’m ages older than you and still practically begging me to bend you over and pound you till you can’t see straight. Is the age difference what gets you off, Y/N?”

At the sound of her name, she let out a raucous moan, no doubt waking up the other tenants of the building.

Spencer smiled, drilling harder and tightening his grip on her throat.

“Oh, you like it when I say your name? You like when I shove my big cock in you and moan your name in your ear?”

She practically screamed as his hand started to circle her clit, the stimulation practically knocking the air out of her.

He was hitting her g-spot with every thrust, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She was so close. She just needed….

“You gonna come for me, Y/N?” he punctuated it with a particularly hard thrust, feeling her begin to clench around him, orgasm washing over her.

Her walls tightening around his cock was enough to send him barreling over the edge, grunting as he thrust in her four more times before feeling his balls tighten up and spill his seed deep inside her.

“Fuck,” he grunted, using his forearms to stay above her, both of them completely out of breath.

Slowly, he pulled out with a sigh, discarding the condom in the trash by her bed.

Y/N was seeing stars. This man had just given her her first penetrative orgasm. And, possibly the best sex she’d ever had.

‘Fuck’, was right.

Spencer flopped down next to her, still naked, trying to catch his breath.

Y/N turned to him, placing a hand on his chest.

It was strange. Even though they’d just had some of the best sex Y/N had ever had, she didn’t even know this man. And yet, somehow, she felt like she did. Did that happen a lot once you had sex with someone?

Her eyes refocused from where they’d been staring off into space to see a concerned Spencer looking at her.

“What?” she asked.

He studied her for another moment before speaking.

“You were biting your lip.”

A blush crept up her cheek.

“Yeah sorry. Helps me think.”

He let out a sharp breath, a sort of soft laugh.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said as he retrieved his underwear, slipping them back on and starting to button up his shirt.

Oh. Was he going to leave? Of course he was! That’s all this was, anyway. A one night stand. You had sex. That was the point.

Then why did it feel like hell?

“You okay?”

Her thoughts had drifted into space again. Spencer had laid back down, now on his side facing her, holding her hand, looking at her intensely. His gaze was practically burning.

“Yeah.”

“I, uh, I don’t normally do . . . that.”

She chuckled. It was rather obvious he wasn’t the hookup type. Despite the dirty things that had come from his mouth.

“Me either.”

He softly stroked her cheek. 

“Are you going to stay?” she blurted.

His face fell.

“Oh, no I wasn’t going to impose if you-”

“NO! I mean,” she took a breath. “I want you to . . . I mean, if you want . . . I'd . . . I’d like you to stay. If you want?”

God. She sounded like a teenager asking their crush to prom. This was no stuttering sophomore she could kick in the crotch if he said no. He was a man. Although, he did tend to stutter. Maybe it wasn’t all that different.

He lit up, a wide smile brightening his features and he began to stroke her hand.

“I’d like that too.”

Wondering if it was possible for cheeks to sprain from smiling, she pulled up the covers, cuddling up against him, falling asleep almost immediately.

~

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Ugh. The stupid alarm. She had been right in the middle of a wonderful dream involving Spencer’s hands and her bruised throat.

What time was it anyway?

The red clock radio proudly displayed: 7:00.

Right, it was the first day of classes. Maybe she’d just ditch and stay in with Spencer. He had been so warm she was sure he had a sun where a heart should be. College didn’t matter anyway, right? Ugh.

A shiver ran through her. She reached out for Spencer, only to find the cold other half of the bed.

Sitting up in bed, she stared at the empty spot.

Had he really walked out on her in the middle of the night? No…. No? Fuck. How could she be so stupid. Of course he didn’t want to-

Oh, he’d left a note.

In a fast yet tidy scrawl, Spencer had left the following message on a little notecard.

Good morning! I am truly sorry to walk out like this, but I have a class at 7:30 and I have to stop by my place and get ready. I’ll be back at the bar tonight, 10:30. I’d love to see you there.

-Spencer. X

Her heart melted into an ocean at the sentiment behind each individual letter. The man she’d just had a dirty one night stand with wanted to see her again.

Wait, he’d said a class? He hadn’t told her he was a student! To be fair, neither had she. That’s another thing they had in common apparently. It made sense why he didn’t tell her. A lot of people were ashamed of going back to college later in life. She thought that was ridiculous. Good for him.

Maybe she could look him up in the student registry. Actually, he may not even go to Georgetown. There were plenty of colleges nearby. She couldn’t have looked him up anyway. She didn’t even know his last name.

It was probably a good thing he left, because she, too, had a class at 7:30.

It only took her twenty minutes to shower, get dressed, and walk the very short distance to campus.

She arrived in the lecture hall with exactly one minute to spare, finding a seat next to a brightly dressed redhead holding a fuzzy pen.

“Hi! I’m Allie.”

“Y/N,” she said, suppressing the cringe as Allie reached out to shake her hand.

“Nice to meet you! What’s your major?”

Oh god. The inevitable college question.

“Journalism. You?”

“English,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Super boring I know, but it lets me take fun classes like this one. Why are you taking this class?”

“Oh, um. It looked fun, I guess. My dad was a lawyer and he kind of piqued my interest in the criminal justice system.”

Allie sighed.

“Thank god. You know half the girls are here just because the Professor is a hottie,” she said with air quotes, rolling her eyes again.

“Really?” Y/N asked, glancing around at the seats noticing the vast majority of the population were women. “Wait, I thought Ms. Merklins was the teacher? Did something change?”

“You didn’t get the email? It just went out the other day, Ms. Merklins had to retire. Something about a club foot. Anyway, the new teacher is supposedly super overqualified. Plus, he’s cute.”

“Huh.”

“Yep. I talked to this one girl in the hall, she actually said she’d sleep with him! Can you imagine?”

Y/N laughed.

“Nooooo. I cannot and I don’t want to. I’m just here to learn, I promise.”

“Same here. Although, if I start getting C’s, all bets are off.”

Y/N laughed and politely chatted with Allie while they waited.

The Professor’s office door swung open and Y/N reached into her bag to get her laptop.

“Hello, class.”

“Hello,” the class echoed.

“Welcome to Criminology. I am Professor Reid and I-.”

Y/N looked up over her screen as he stopped talking, making sudden eye-contact with the Professor.

She froze in her seat, blood running cold.

No way. No fucking way.

Spencer?

~

TAGLIST

~

@whollytaciturn​ @101donuts​ @thegingerfairchild @safertokiss @happyiidiot @cielo1984 @thupidalethea @darkacademiacherry @matthewreid @aloha-ashley-taylor @justchiara-02 @spnobsessedmemes @sweet-darlin @matthewreid

[angelkurenai]

Hurricane - Dean Winchester x Reader (Detective AU) - Part 12

Title: Hurricane

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word count: 5,511

Warnings: Almost Smut, Nudity

Summary: With one of the most dangerous serial killers on the loose and in your tracks you have no choice but to rely on the help of the police to ansure your safety. It doesn’t hurt that the detective in charge is the one of the most skilled there is and probably, well, definitely the most charming one you have ever seen. Or that his flirting with you takes your mind off the danger waiting for you right around the corner. & Based on: Imagine detective Dean Winchester flirting with you while working on your case.

Read Part 1 here! l Read Part 2 here! l Read Part 3 here! l Read Part 4 here! l Read Part 5 here! l Read Part 6 here! l Read Part 7 here! l Read Part 8 here! l Read Part 9 here! l Read Part 10 here! l Read Part 11 here!

“He hasn't come back yet?” Sam's voice on the computer made you look up from your phone and you shook your head.

“No, and it's already very late.” you glanced out of the window to see that indeed the darkness had set in for good “He keeps checking in every 15 minutes but I-” you stopped yourself, biting your lower lip and the younger Winchester gave you a soft knowing smile.

“Can't help but worry for the rest of the 14.95 minutes about him.” he nodded his head at his own words and you huffed, looking down at your hands.

“Stop that.” you grumbled and he grinned.

“Stop what?” he raised an eyebrow.

“That. You act like you know everything about my feelings because they- they are obvious like a neon sign in the darkness to the entire world but your brother.” you pursed your lips like a little kid when you heard your best friend laugh with you.

“Well, I wasn't gonna say but-” he shrugged with a fond smile “It is kinda true. Dean wouldn't realize it even if a truck him right in the face. I can't even count the times I've had to third-weel for the two of you and all of that flirting still has not led to a date.” he shook his head, leaning back in his seat.

“Speaking of which-” you chewed on your lip, glancing once more at your phone “I uh I met... Jack this morning and he said some things about Dean that got me thinking.”

“And had you feeling a certain kind of way too, maybe?” he smirked and you glared at him as hard as you could master “I know Jack very well to not even ask what he's spilled.” his smile got softer, no longer teasing you "But if you ask me (Y/n)... you shouldn't put your whole life on hold because you- you assume things are just happening in your mind. You-you don't have a reason to hide it anymore or to forever wait hopelessly in love with the man to tell him what you feel.”

“You say this as if I even have a chance with him, Sam.” you scoffed, trying not to let your hopes get up.

“And you say this as if you don't!” he looked at you in disbelief “(Y/n), he kissed you just two days ago! You told me that yourself, how can you forget that?”

“Yes because I was having a panic attack and he didn't know how to get me back to my senses but that was all!” you couldn't help but feel your heart drop at the thought “I- We talked about it Sam, that very night. He didn't- he said there were no feelings behind it, only him doing his job. He made it clear it meant nothing. So there, I don't think there is much of a chance after all.”

“Wh-what?” he blinked, eyebrows raised in surprise “That idiot, what was he- No, (Y/n), you gotta hear me out! I know my brother, and trust me when he is with you or- or even talks about you it's so much more different than it is with any other woman! Do you think he'd go to such extents to protect you if you weren't that important to him?”

“As a friend, probably! Family even, but let's be honest Sam, if he really wanted something more he'd- he'd have made a move or at least told me something.” you shook your head “Flirting is- it's what Dean does and even if he wants a casual night with me I'm- I'm not up for it. I want something serious and he doesn't, he never does. I don't blame him but I can't keep waiting or trying for something that will just never happen. I- I know I could try but gosh Sam I've hurt enough as it is with the entire case, both physically and mentally, and my heart is or most part in one piece.” you rambled as all your friend could do was stare at you with wide eyes.

You were trying so desperately to convince yourself, though, because sadly Sam wasn't saying it clearly how Dean felt (you partially understood it wasn't his job to) but you were growing impatient at the same time when thinking about that almost-kiss and what it could mean.

“You-” he let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair “You two are seriously the world's biggest idiots!”

“Why would you say-” before you could fully question him though your phone buzzed and you didn't even have the chance to blink before you reached fast for the device to read Dean's message.

You heard Sam scoff and mumble to himself something that sounded like “Not in love my ass.” but you didn't question it.

“He- wow.” you breathed out with wide eyes “He found him, Sam! He- Chuck's in town and he will be for a couple days, he says he's sent you the adress?”

“Yeah, I got it. I'm not far away... what is it?” he question with a frown when he heard you snicker.

“Oh uh nothing, it's just-” you giggled “He says he's in desperate need of lots and lots of beers right now to forget the 60-year-old woman he had to hit on.”

Sam rolled his eyes “Why did I even ask? Anyway- Tell him it's better if he returns immediately to your motel room, the less he's out there, the better. It won't take me long to get there and I'll keep an eye out all the time.”

“Alright then, please drive safe.” you whispered and he gave you a nod and warm smile.

“Will do.” he nodded his head “And for the love of, (Y/n), just listen to me for once.”

“Sam” you sighed softly but he gave you a stern look.

“I'm serious. I'm sick and tired of you two pinned over each other and crushing harder than a pair of 12-year-olds and I swear if I see you doubt what he feels about you once more, I'm going to lock you in a room until you've figured it out! Hell, even Jack knows and you keep refusing it's a thing but I swear to you, I'm going to keep up my promise if you so much as dare to deny it once more!”

“O-ok I'll think about it. I will, I promise!” you nearly raised your arms in surrender. Fed-up Sam was the most scary Sam you had seen so far.

“You better.” were the last words he breathed out to you before you were left in silence. You still weren't sure about Sam taking Dean's place on keeping an eye out for Chuck, in case he left his motel, because it wouldn't make much of difference if Amara found any Winchester in the town, she'd instantly know you were all there.

But some selfish part of you worried about Dean's well-being a little more, not to mention him catching some shut eye. You'd heard more than plenty from his nightmare the previous night, along with all of the pacing he'd done, and in more than a few messages he hinted that he felt worn out. That, along with the nagging feeling you had ever since that peck made you want him to get back as soon as possible to test the waters of... whatever relationship you had going on.

“As if you didn't enjoy it! ;)” you typed the reply and with a sigh got up from the chair to make your way to the bathroom. You wished that after a relaxing bath everything would be calm, at least for one night, and you could get the chance to relax and... hopefully forget about the outside world with Dean. Hopefully.

~*~

Walking into the motel room an involuntary sigh escaped Dean's lips. He placed the plastic bags on the sole table in the room and his eyes did a once over of the entire place in search of your figure. For a second he tensed up when he didn't see you around, he took a few long strides and frantically almost now looked around. It wasn't until he heard some shuffling come from the door to his left that he realized he had not thought of the most obvious of all.

Taking a step towards the bathroom he only found himself freezing in his tracks. He knew he should have immediately turned around and pretended he had not seen a thing but his body refused to listen to whatever logical part of his brain was left anymore. For some reason he was reminded of his dream not too long ago and he felt even more compelled to stand there.

The door was slightly ajar, letting him have just the right view inside the bathroom were you had just started getting dressed after a shower. While it was comforting that you were just fine, it wasn't comforting to realize the kind of effect you had on him.

He felt like some sort of weirdo, a creep like the kid he'd caught looking at you through the window of your room all that time ago, but at least in his defence he didn't get off on it or made a habit out of it, not to mention that he knew you. Plus, he didn't do it on purpose. He had only stumbled upon it and he just couldn't pull away from you. But that was a fact from the very beginning: Being so drawn to you. The attraction first to your appearance and very soon to your character had been undeniable from the first moment and if things were different he'd already have taken you out on more than plenty of dates, if you had said yes that is. It didn't help at all that he had spent so much time thinking about the kiss you had shared not so many hours ago or that almost kiss previously the same day, practically had his mind consumed with you.

All in all, it was different – well, he couldn't lie to himself – he was in love with you and he hoped and wished that you felt the same even in the least bit.

He watched the drops of water slide down from your still wet hair to your bare back he felt like he ran out of breath. His eyes watched the way your muscles flexed as you patted your body with a towel, trying to dry most of the water. You were standing all but naked, save for the pair of panties you had on, and he would be lying if he said his eyes didn't skip over your every curve and edge once or twice so that he could take everything in and remember it. He was so tempted to just push the door open and help you, no matter the form or direction that ended up going to. He almost felt his fingertips tingle with the need to touch you.

He was so caught up between admiring you and trying to understand the plethora of emotions swimming through his body that he didn't even realize it when you managed to put on a pair of pants and a shirt and were getting so much closer to him. He didn't even have the time to react when-

“Dean” your voice held so much relief, as if you hadn't noticed how awkward he was being only half a second ago trying to pretend he hadn't been standing there or as if you did know but chose to ignore it completely. Your shoulders relaxed instantly and an easy smile formed on your lips “I was going to wait for you but I seriously felt like my clothes were going to stick to my skin for good very soon so I couldn't-”

“S-Sure after everything that happened you needed something to help you relax...” he trailed off, almost cursing at himself for how unsure he sounded.

“Yeah, I mean, I had some serious thinking to do as well. So I suppo-” but you stopped mid-sentence and it was then he cursed under his breath. You studied him for a bit and after a moment your smile fluttered and your eyebrows pulled into a frown. You reached out and grabbed his arm before he could get away.

“Dean?” Oh how it made him weak on the knees to hear you say his name. You didn't do so often and it was such a shame he realized in that moment.

“Dean?” it was a whisper this time and it distracted him even further in all the bad possible ways that he certainly couldn't afford at the moment “Is everything alright? Something wrong?”

“Apart from the fact that we're hiding from a psycho? No I wouldn't say much.” he cleared his throat, his eyes flying over your form for a second or two and it was possibly the worst decision he could make. Given that your face was flushedbecause of the hot shower, your hair still wet and even your clothes just a bit in a far too sinful way because he couldn't help but want to help you dry up in more than one ways. He hurried to add “I've gotten burgers in case you're hungry. And uh pie, which I know you li-”

“Dean” and there it was again and it made a lump form in his throat. He felt your fingers on his chin, only two fingers slowly turning his face in your direction without even the slightest of protests, but then again you could shift his entire world with just a look “Tell me.”

His eyes did another once over but this time focused on your face where he noticed a familiar, soft and calm look of understanding there. You smiled a bit, taking a step closer as if you weren't already significantly close but who needed to breathe anyway? Certainly not Dean at that moment.

“Alright then, I will tell you.” you slid your hand up his arm “About what I've been thinking about. About what... we haven't really talked about yet and I-” you looked up to meet his eyes again “I want to. Without any lies or hiding anymore. Just a straight answer, don't care if it hurts me. But no lies.”

“Wh-what about?” his voice was getting lower and it made it harder for you to focus.

You licked your lips, not knowing it had the same if not worse effect on him. His eyes followed the line of your tongue and you could hardly fight a small smile of your own when you whispered “What Jack said.” your eyes locked and he stiffened more, if possible “Was it true?”

“Is that the kind of thinking you've been doing in the shower?” he softly and barely raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged glancing away for a mere moment “Would you prefer I was doing some kind of... other thinking? Or maybe something else aside from showering?”

His breath got caught in his throat. There was no mistaking the way your lips curved up into a very flirty smirk, the kind that he'd given you plenty of times before, and there was no doubting the words you said. You had never been more bold than that and it did catch him by surprise in a good way.

“Maybe.” he asked instead, shrugging before licking his own lips “Depends.”

You held his gaze for a few more seconds, your hand slowly sliding up to his chest and up his flannel where your fingers toyed with the collar of his flannel “On?”

It took him some time to reply simply because of how focused he was on your lips - or was it how kissable they looked at the moment? Then again, they always did. Mustering all the confidence he could, although still with hazy eyes said “Me being the focus of your attention the entire time?”

“Why detective-” you grinned easily, leaning closer to him “Don't you know?” he expected you to mock him a bit, tease him but he didn't get any of it. Instead he felt your fingers light as a father trace up his jaw, to his cheekbones before combing through his hair, sliding to the back of his head and tugging softly “I can't take my mind off you... no matter where my hands end up wandering.”

His head was tilted so that was only inches away from yours, your forehead almost leaning against each other's so you heard the sharp intake “You seem rather comfortable talking about it. Do you do that often?”

“Hm that's a secret you'll have to do some more serious interrogation to get out of me, detective. Besides-” you glanced down at his lips “How often do you do it?”

“Are you that interested to know?” was it audible? He had no idea.

“More than I'd care to admit out loud.” you gave him a small shrug and smirk.

“Why?” he asked in a low voice.

“Why... what? Why can't I admit it out loud or... why do I do it in the first place? Because if it's the second one then-” you were almost pressed against him and he'd give anything to press you against the wall in addition “I'm sure you can think of a reason or two.” your voice had dropped to a lower seductive tone and he was barely holding back a sound in his throat that, he was sure, wouldn't sound anywhere near human. Especially with how your eyes roamed over him. He didn't know just how much thinking you had done and for what reason but he didn't want to complain.

“But that's something we were supposed to talk about later.” your voice, softer brought him back to reality again “I asked a question and I did mean it. Seriously... I want to know if it was indeed true.”

“Why?” it came out in a raspy voice, almost frowning “Why do you want to know so much?”

“Is it not obvious? Has it not been from the beginning? I- I know what I've said in the past could be taken both ways but... I told you I did some thinking. Some serious thinking.” you murmured “Besides, what difference will it make if you know the reason?”

“It will, to me yes it will.” it was him who got closer “And you said it: no lies. Yet I'm not getting the full truth here. Tell me why do you really want to know?”

You shrugged a bit, your face burning but no point in backing down now. Taking a deep breath you watched as his own other free hand slid up your bare arm and he took gentle hold of your chin to make you look at him even though you weren't far from it. You let him rub his thumb on your cheek for a second, slowly drifting to your lower lip.

“For the same reason as you.” you whispered, not missing the way his shoulders relaxed. He held your gaze. Not so many words in a simple sentence that meant a million things, a million feelings. For the same reason he wanted to know why Jack's words mattered to you. A reason that was only-

“It was.” his voice came out more confident than before and he took a deep breath as if finally able to breathe “I-it was. You're right, it was. I- I'm– I'm a fool for you, an absolute and total fool for you.”

“What-” you started, the two words he repeated having surprised you but if only for a couple seconds. It was when realization set down on you maybe a bit harder than you had initially expected.

“It was true. What Jack said, everything he said was true.” it was like you could hear it. And even more, everything everybody else said was indeed true

Your breath hitched in your throat and your eyes all-but-widened. Two words that meant so much more than you could ever possibly comprehend. He had never been so open about it and so sincere, more than you had ever seen him before (if it was possible at least) and above all more scared than ever. He looked almost shy about it, at first, but then you realized he too was holding his breath after the words left from his lips. Maybe he had been unable to stop them, maybe he was speaking from his heart and couldn't stop it, maybe he wanted you to know but not yet and maybe... there were a thousand possibilities. You could think about them all you wanted but truth was it would take forever and you had obviously lost far too much valuable time thinking about what could and couldn't be instead of just going for it.

“A-are you going to say someth-” he started, making you realize you had been silent for a bit too long.

“Good.” you cut him off, voice a bit shaky “G-good to know.”

It wasn't what he expected to hear so it did make him frown but when he parted his lips ready to speak, no words came out. Instead every sound was muffled by the pair of your own lips on his. The gasp that left when you took hold of the collar of his flannel and pressed yourself as close as possible to him was simply adorable. You had probably taken the both of you by surprise because this was no kiss fueled by some sort of emergency and it was no kiss happening by mistake. Despite the both of you being in a life or death situation, for lack of better words, this was a kiss happening for entirely different reasons.

Just to wipe out any doubt you might have he started kissing back with just as much passion only three seconds later. A soft laugh came from you when his hands found your middle soon followed by a yelp when he took hold of your thighs and lifted you up with ease. His lips were much more firm against yours. His tongue brushed over your lower lip and you parted your lips to give him full entrance. His tongue was hot on yours and it tasted like coffee. You let him have his way, enjoying it all along, as his wet lips hungrily devoured yours. The low moan that he gave you when you caught his lower lip between your teeth made you grin. You nibbled on it, making him push you harder against the wall and getting a giggle from you.

He kissed you fully on the lips again, stealing your breath away. His tongue was no more gentle as before, if anything it seemed quiet the opposite. “Something tells me-” you panted when he pulled just an inch away “You've been looking forward to this?”

“Don't you know?” he asked in a gruff voice, his lips leaving a wet trail of kisses down your neck. Pushing you against the wall you arched your hips forward, earning a moan from him.

“Figured.” you bit your lip, shuffling to get the jacket off his shoulders “So that's why you've been staring at me through the open door huh?” you grinned when he froze for a moment. You leaned closer to his ear “What, detective?” you kissed it “Thought I wouldn't notice? Then why do you think I put on a small show for?” you trailed your lips down to his neck.

His shoulders relaxed and a deep chuckle made his chest rumble “Seriously, best kind of thinking you've ever done, sweetheart.”

“Life's too short. And I wasted too much time overthinking. I wanna act on it now. But you can thank Jack for it later.” you grinned and he chuckled.

“Besides, don't worry. You're definitely taking me out too but for now- I'm not holding back.” you huffed, trying to get him rid of his flannel as well. He pulled just a bit away, helping you but still giving you a raised eyebrow “What? You saw more than plenty before. It would be only fair.”

“It would, yes. Also-” he let go of you to stand on your feet to, much to your pleasant surprise, pull his black T-shirt over his head “All that for me? How considerate. I might have to repay you for that. What kind of services would you like this time m'am?”

“I can think of something. Can't you?” you grinned, hooking your fingers through the hem of his jeans and pulled him closer to you. His eyes widened once more in surprise but chuckled nonetheless.

“Maybe I could.” his voice was more rough, the look on his face more determined and serious, and it immediately made the familiar feeling set down harder on the pit of your stomach.

His eyes roamed your figure rather shamelessly. The fact that your shirt was still a bit wet and you had no bra didn't help at all in fighting the deep red off your cheeks. The way his eyes darkened made you shiver. Bringing a hand up to rest on the nape of your neck, slowly sliding to your cheek. He leaned in, kissing your forehead as if to make a promise, then your cheek and then your lips where he didn't pull away from. He didn't need any effort to push you down on the bed. With your hands hooked on his jeans you pulled him down, not that he even wanted to stay more than an inch away from you.

Your hips bucked up involuntarily, grazing the stiffness in Dean's pants that made you let out a shaky breath. He pushed your hips with his asking for as much friction as possible but only groaned in your mouth when you showed him you weren't going as gentle as before. His hands came to rest on your hips, squeezing so tight that you were sure it was going to leave a bruise. Compared to any other kiss this one was filled with much more raw emotion, need and a hint of lust.

Your fingers fumbled with his belt with just as much impatience as his fumbled with your shirt. Although he was more focused on getting as much skin contact as possible. You shuddered when his hands moved underneath your shirt and trailed up your sides to your chest, the touch only making your let out a whine when he refused to give you release but only torture you a bit more with his hands. To get him back for the teasing you held firmly onto his jeans, with your legs around his waist, you flipped him over that you were on top of him.

You pulled away just a bit to look down at him licking the remainer of your taste on his lips with a grin always plastered on his face. His hands didn't leave their place from underneath your shirt which was probably just why he was grinning like that. Cheeky bastard. With a mere move, though, you managed to wipe off the smile. With a hand almost over his hard on and a thrust of your hips you had his eyes widening and him choking on a moan that came unexpectedly.

You leaned down but repeated the move, your bodies sliding together, as he practically held his breath. Your lips found his again and with a harder push he couldn't hold back a grunt. A thrust of his own hips came and his hands that had stilled before were now even more frantic over your body. It was almost a game at this point, for everything. Seeing who'd last longer before breaking - at anything whether it was a moan or another thrust - and who would get be the one on top.

So it wasn't long before Dean was laying on top of you again and had you moaning even more. There was no minding it though when you were too busy craving more of his touch. But if he wanted to torture you with his hands so could yours. His rhythm turned wilder, his breath becoming even more erratic, making you squeeze your legs around him.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” you didn't even realize it when he had taken your shirt off. His eyes roamed your figure, dark and filled with want, but they only focused on your eyes in the end which made you relax more than you ever imagined. A laugh came from him, his breath hot and heavy against your neck “You're going to make me come in my pants already, princess. Haven't done that since I was a teenager.”

A giggle burst from your lips and you tightened your hold around his shoulders, your lips brushing over his as you spoke “Did you happen to do that often?”

He let a deep throaty moan when you pressed your bare chest flushed to his but grinned nonetheless “More or less. Although you make me feel like I'm 16 again, I get the impression that if I were to meet you when we were actually 16 there'd be a lot more of that coming.”

“Is there a pun intended?” you laughed as he shook his head “So you're saying, supposing we were the same age, you'd want me the same?”

“Sweetheart, there's no way my 16-year-old-self would let you walk by not even in my wildest dreams.” he said in a husky voice “I'd be crushing on you harder than a freaking teenager. Let alone the rest of the... thinking I would do with you in mind.” he said in between attacking your neck with kisses.

“Oh thinking is what we're going to call it now.” you giggled before your voice lowered and you whispered in his ear “I like how that sounds.”

“If only you knew, sweetheart.” he said breathlessly “I've dreamed about you.” he whispered roughly in between the kisses “Wanted you. Ever since we first met, I was a gonner. Don't know how you did it but damn you got me baby.” he mumbled against your skin as he licked and sucked on your neck now, he chuckled softly “I couldn't stop thinking about you.”

He didn't even realize it when the exact same words came out.

“It's easy to understand... You simply cannot resist me.” the words were innocent to you but not him.

As if electricity shot right through him, Dean's eyes snapped wide open and he pulled away faster than he ever had in his life. He stared at you with wide eyes as it dawned on him. He felt as if he was being pulled back to that dream and it scared him to the bone. Dean shook his head furiously, his breath having caught in his lungs as he stumbled to get back and away from you.

“D-Dean?” your voice was barely filled with pain, rather more worry and it warmed his heart because she would never sound like that. It reminded him it was still you, you that he had held and loved truly. “Dean...” you started but he only got further away, leaping off the bed and you hurried to put your shirt back on, standing on the edge of the bed “Is everything ok? What- what happened? Did I do someth-”

“No” he hurried to say, wanting to kick himself for making you doubt yourself even for a moment “No, it's not- you didn't do anything. You never could, I'm just- Ah fuck.” he groaned dragging a hand down his face before he fell down on the floor, back against the wall and head resting in his hands in defeat.

“Dean” you were almost scared to ask. You slowly approached him, kneeling in front of him and hesitating to place a hand on top of his “Dean talk to me. Something is going on with you... I could help.”

“You can't- you won't-” he felt like all his words were burning his throat, his head swimming with only one thought “You...” he pulled his hands away from his face and looked down “You will hate me.”

“Wh-what?” you blinked in surprise “Dean... I could never- What are you talking about?”

After such a great act of love, after he had already showed you how much you meant to him, after he was ready to experience your love and give you all of his he was sure he wouldn't be able to take it. But he also wasn't able to take the voice in his head, the constant feeling of being on edge and of feeling so much fear.

“I-” the lump in his throat made it impossible to talk, just as much as the fear settled deep in his heart but he knew that it would happen sooner or later and he didn't want to take advantage of your love when he didn't deserve. When he felt like he didn't deserve anything but your hate.

“I let her free, (Y/n). I was the one that set Amara free.”

~~~

A/N: My fave chapter is here! Right before it all goes to hell, I hope you enjoyed these lovely moments! Feedback is welcomed and tags are sadly closed!

@getlostinthedark @cap-just-said-language @catwithyellowwings @word-scribbless @carryon-doctor-lock @nightriver99 @timelady1140 @spideyxstan @agentstarkid @all-will-be-well-love @simpleboox @jaylarkson @cookiechipdough @alltimekp @a-dorky-book-keeper @givemebooksorgivemedeath @skeletoresinthebasement @sammy201d @akshi8278 @amandamdiehl @hobby27 @deans-baby-momma @musiclover1263 @feelmyroarrrr @sofreddie @skymoonandstardust @babygabrielle-blog @woodworthti666 @gunpowder-and-smoke-inofficial @erule @lizwinchester16 @itslunabitches @itsquies @justkending @fiftyshadesofrebel @love-my-not-natural-babies @outsider-underwater @deans-baby-momma @kaylinfayezink @x-waywardaf-x @keshaia @moonlight-on-her-skin @happy-little-marvel

[thedistantdusk]

Writing Like a Synesthete

(Ok, before I get started, here is one final disclaimer that I would never claim to be an expert on writing! I’m using this post to respond to a number of asks about my specific process; I’m not claiming to know more than anyone else, nor am I writing this as part of some dick-measuring thing. Also, these tips may work for you -- but they may not! And if they don’t? Don’t use them! Life is not one-size-fits-all, and your writing process should look different from mine because we are different people!)

_______________________________________________________________

Alllrighty. So. That being said, as requested, here are some tips on writing that work for me. As I alluded to in an earlier post, I have a neurological condition called synesthesia. Here is some backstory, if you’re at all interested. I promise it’s eventually relevant!

When I was in 1st grade, my teacher contacted my parents because she had some... erm... concerns about the way I absorbed/processed information. While learning the months of the year, I was very adamant that not only does each month have a color/personality — but that each month also belongs on a different slot on the face of a clock (except, in my case, the “clock” moves counterclockwise). This teacher must have been a damn pro, because even for a 6 year old, I guess that sounded pretty batshit. 

Upon hearing this, my parents thought they were raising the Anti Christ took me for an evaluation because they were... uh... likewise rather concerned. In my mind, here is how this convo went: 

Child psychologist: Right, so your kid always thinks January is purple and moody and June is orange and happy. She isn’t doing this for attention, she isn’t hallucinating, and it probably just means her brain is weird. This sounds like associative synesthesia but we don’t diagnose or treat that, YOLO.  My parents: Wha... what? Child psychologist: Yeah, my dudes, no one knows. It’s the 90s, this shit isn’t researched, and I have better things to do like download JPEGs of Sarah Michelle Gellar on dial-up. Anyway, that’ll be a $100000 copay, have a nice day. 

So. Yeah. My parents probably walked away from that having no idea. And I don’t blame them, because this isn’t something I understand either. In addition to my weird color/number/spatial awareness things, synesthesia means that I feel all the feelings all the time, and believe me when I say this has downsides. 

More often than not, my very strong “feelings” are almost tangible? Like they’re kinda... floating there, but not really? They’re also physical, like the time I actually got “seasick” during a fight with someone because the way we were fighting reminded me of the rocking of a boat. 

Are you confused yet? Cause I would be, so I don’t blame you. 

Annnnnyway (assuming you’re still reading) one of the positives of synesthesia (and yes, there are a lot of negatives) is that I have a tendency to both project feelings onto objects and to perceive “feelings” as tangible things. That appears a lot in my writing, because honestly, that’s just how I see it. If I feel an emotion really strongly, it manifests as something more physical than metaphorical. I can’t exactly see what I’m feeling? But it’s not a reach (at all) to label/identify/describe it. 

That being said... I might be able to offer some tips/suggestions for writing from the perspective of a synesthete.

A couple months ago, we were on vacation and I saw this shop from my Uber:

I shivered when I saw it, and Mr. Dusk noticed, because that’s a trigger for “some weird senses shit” (his word). 

I know this is just a photo so it’s harder to gauge, but do you associate any feelings at all with this storefront? I immediately felt this kind of forlorn hopelessness that made my stomach feel hollow. Mr. Dusk thought I was bonkers just being Miley, so I made a list of my thought process to explain myself.

It’s a florist shop, but there aren’t many flowers in the window. Why?

The color of the sign is a really sharp lime green. What does green signify? Why? (Contrast this with what you’d expect to see in florist shop: pastels, soft shades, floral designs)

The light is still very bright/neon against the darkness of the evening.

From that, here are some inferences I might draw, keeping in mind that the object “has feelings.”

The shop is “sickly”/unable to produce (A combo of the color of the light and the lack of flowers.)

The shop is still trying really hard. (The sign is bright, but the night is dark.)

So with that in mind, here is what I might write: 

The single bouquet yearned against the glass, its face stretched into a plastic smile. Its petals shook with the effort, its stem quaked from the stress, but as always, it remained bright and open. It only had two goals on that warm July night: To somehow attract a forever home... and to appear less desperate than it felt.  “Perfect for all occasions!” it seemed to beg at passersby, its voice growing weaker with every utterance. “Flowers! Lovely! Perfect! You’ll never need another--”  But then it cut off mid-sentence, its voice collapsing beneath the weight of a rasping cough. It was too late. 

All right. So.

This might sound like a bit much, but I just wanted to get all of those Tumblr asks out of the way with some rambling about my weird brain. If you can use this as a writing exercise, great! If not, that’s ok too :) 

Thanks, and happy writing! 

[baconpal]

since ive been complaining about shit already tonight i might aswell just mention random crap that i’ve been thinking about, but ill spare your dash, feel free to read me rambling about absolutely random shit if you want

first some video game stuff i guess;

the good: I don’t have a switch and still definitely cannont justify getting one yet but woo boy does ARMS look good, i wanna try it, and also splatoon 2, i really liked splats when it was first out, and martyo kart, but its p spensive stuff and im a cheap-ass 

the new thing code vein thing is simultaneous promising and incredibly boring to me, cus anime styled action game with the potential for cute girls to be wielding giant fucking weapons is like, my dream, and the boss designs looked pretty good, if a bit unrelated in the trailer, like the moose knight dude is fucking sick and i wanna use his armor, but then there’s also like, abyssal spear lady miku whose fucking cute, and they’re shown right after each other and it becomes a bit hard to follow, and the story seems to be just fucking dark souls “wah we go hollow and the world is a fuck”, i wish it wasnt that, cus dark souls alone made that setting overused, and while a modern-ish universe certainly sounds nice, it looks fucking bleak and they spend half the video in places that just look like bluer versions of DaS3 areas

the bad: so ive already complained about momodora 4, some people like it for some fucking reason but i dont, and now 5 is happening because they cant just make a new fucking series i guess, and it looks awful, like honestly horrid, its fucking shitty 3d when nobody asked for it, and it’s like, all the worst parts of something like dark souls, and none of the good parts and it angers me to no end that they keep dragging this sorta cute and okay free game series into the mud like this when they could make new games and try new things

the ugly: i never funded or thought about supporting indivisible because i had zero fun with the demo and i never really cared for any of the designs other than the redesigns of other characters from other games, and maybe the big fist girl, who didnt really fit in the style to begin with, but now they’re going and doing major redesigns and model updates that just look stupid and lifeless, like “wah wah diversity” drama aside, that cowboy guy went from a gritty, perfectly decent design to like, fucking nothing, he’s nothing now, i cant even identify him as something because he’s just nothing, and the entire cast seems to have been stretched up for no reason, and now a lot of the interestingly wide characters arent very interesting anymore, im not mad about it cus i never planned on getting it, but as an artist when i see artists take a very solid and nice character/design and just make it fucking awful, it makes me mad, especially cus i’ve seen some artists i used to know do it too, not starting drama or something it just seems pretty dumb to take things that are nice and people like and make them into different things when you could just make a new thing and have both

also uh like my friend showed me this jap band called uplift spice and at first i thought they were meh but i cant stop listening to them now its fucken cute rock stuff and it kills me

now art stuff. these are the things i really wanna talk about but they’re really just me problems so if you’ve already made it this far maybe you’ll care about this random shit

so like commissions have gone decently recently, not complaining about nobody wantin em or something, but for the longest time i’ve had people ask me about commissions, ask if there’s slots open or something, or even straight up say they intend to commission me, and then i’ll never fucking hear from them ever again ever, and like, if you just ask “hey got slots?” doesnt mean i expect you to actually get a comm, but it usually suggests there will atleast be a follow up response like “okay thanks but nevermind” or “ok cool ill be contacting you soon” and then actually following up on it, cus without any closure i just get stressed out thinking about why they never get back to me, are the prices too much? are they worried i won’t accept the comm? did they fucking forget i exist? did they get hit by a car? like even if you fucking told me “nevermind i dont want a comm you’re fucking SMELLY and i HATE YOU” i’d feel better cus at least i wouldnt worry about it for a week or something, none of the people reading this are likely the kinds of people who do this, most of them dont even follow me, but cmon man why you gotta make me worry about this shit

and last thing probably (hopefully jesus what am i even typing all this for) so like now that i’m doin comms more to support my own ass i’m really not pushing for requests in my inbox since a lot of them i’d never do anyway unless i got paid, but at the same time, i really liked drawin the ghost lady for that one ask, cus nobody is ever going to comm me for my own characters unless your one of my super good friends and youre just looking for an excuse to give me money, if you DID honestly comm me my OCs i’d fucking love you that’d be sick, but regardless i think that the only requests ill end up doing anymore are cute megalo1 and 2 ideas or stuff of my OCs, but i dont even know if you guys remember or like any of them, i actually have way more of them than i post because i like to design for fun sometimes, but like other than maybe neon idk if any of my OCs are know to any of my followers other than good friends, so idk if you guys would even care enough to request my OCs, but they’re mine and they make me happy so if you wanna see more of them or ask questions about them or anything, feel free to send me asks or messages or whatever, it’d be cool

so ye that’s all the shit im thinken about right now, if you actually could read all that you’re fucking weird and i like you