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gracieheartspedro · 3 months

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Your Needs, My Needs

THE PRELUDE

a masterlist of how you can help gaza

pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)

description: you have made it to your new home in taylor, texas. your anxiety of owning your our home and being alone is coming to a head, but you need to be productive. a trip to the local furniture turns into you meeting some locals and your new cowboy neighbor.

word count: 3.7k words

warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, description of small age gap, joel being a sarcastic shithead. sarah is canon, so joel is a dad. distracted driving. talks of consuming food. reader has mental illness, mainly described as anxiety, but could be other illnesses. I make it pretty vague. the reader likes football? lmfao

author's note: this is the prelude to the many parts I have planned for these two. this is sort of just setting up everything. I want a slow burn for these two, so hopefully these first couple parts make you guys sweat with anticipation. I also wanna quickly thank all of you for the love on the preview of this fic. I hope you all enjoy it! let me know what y'all think. YEEHAW!

“Sign here and she’s all yours.”

When you brought the pen to the dotted line, you knew that this was going to be the start of your new life.

While you were nervous about taking on such a huge project, you were ready to find solace in your alone time and work on yourself along with the beautiful farmhouse. You needed some peace and quiet, anyway.

She was set on 20 acres of land on the outskirts of a small town called Taylor. The land looked like something out of a movie, it’s rolling hills and sprawling fields.

The house was about 130 years old and needed a lot of TLC. You found it online after hours of scrolling. It was still liveable, but the older couple who owned it before moved to a retirement community and could not keep up with the maintenance. When the inheritance hit your bank account, you called the local realtor and told them you would be flying out there to check it out. When the car pulled up the long driveway, you knew that it would be yours.

Texas was a new start for you. And boy, were you ready for it.

You did not have a lot to move in, just a small UHaul full of boxes of clothes and miscellaneous trinkets. You left your furniture in your shared apartment in New York. You needed to find something that was more your style, anyway.

You moved everything yourself. You were not sure you were ready to trust anyone to help you move in. You knew no one locally, anyway.

It took about three days to get settled, and by that, you simply put up a shower curtain and finally put sheets on your mattress on the floor. You had also created a laundry list of random things you wanted to get done around the house in the next month. Priority number one was getting the bathrooms working. The toilet downstairs doesn’t stop running and your upstairs one won’t flush at all.

You decided that today was the day you would go out and buy some furniture for your living room and bedroom. You would also inquire to some locals about a plumber. It would take you days to work up the courage to reach out to someone in the phone book, so here’s to hoping you just run into someone on the street.

You hop into the sedan that you were renting until you could buy a car. It was nice but it was no match for your long dirt driveway. You already expected to pay extra for all the dings on the exterior.

The roads that lead into Main Street are long and winding. You loved driving, so when it was nice enough to put the windows down, you did so.

Since there’s no one on this specific stretch, you decide to switch the CD you had shoved into the disc drive, opting for another mix you had made years ago. The radio never played what you wanted, especially the local stations in Taylor.

In your distracted scramble for the CD, you don’t take note of the large stallion running next to your car. The CD is wedged between the seat and the main console and your fingers cannot reach the awkward position.

You’re not speeding. But when a giant horse runs out in front of you, you can not hit the break quickly enough. You stop breathing, bracing for impact. You jerk the wheel slightly, swerving away from the steed. Before your front end can make an impact, the horse is snatched back towards the divot in the road.

You are in complete and utter shock over how abruptly it all happened.

Your eye eventually catches a man on horseback, his cowboy hat shields most of his face, but you are more focused on how built this man looks. His biceps were straining against his button-up shirt as he held the lasso taut against his chest. His legs were locked around the brown stallion he was on, his jeans riddled with mud and dust. He had dark curls that peaked out from under his hat.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” You yell, your car slowly inching forward from its spot in the middle of the road, “Where did that thing even come from?”

The mysterious cowboy just shakes his head and trots away, clicking his tongue to guide the horse back into the field.

Your heart felt like it may leap out of your chest. A car was chugging down the road ahead of you, so you knew you had to move out of the way. You turn into your lane and slowly start down the road again.

You do not even bother trying to find the CD, again. You would rather sit in complete silence.

When you make it to the small stretch of downtown, your heart rate slows down. You spot a local furniture store that looks a bit dated. It was your best bet plus, you wanted to stand on solid ground and gain your bearings.

You parallel park rather terribly and hop out of your car. You huff loudly, throwing your purse over your shoulder and slamming the door behind you.

A hot cowboy saved your life.

It’s the most Texas thing that’s happened to you since you moved here.

You head inside the storefront. A smaller white-haired lady sits at the front desk, her head in a gossip magazine.

“Well, hello there,” You muster in your best cheery voice, trying to act like you did not almost die, “I’m lookin’ for some furniture.”

She chuckles as she places her reading next to the register, “Well, you came to the right place, sweetheart.”

You return the laugh, glancing around the large store. Couches and recliners in rows in the front, wooden bed sets lining the back wall. You were so indecisive, you were not completely sure where to start.

“I need a bedroom set and a couch or two. I just moved into th-”

“The old Caldwell farmhouse,” She cuts you off, hopping off her stool, “Saw you movin’ in a couple days ago. My boy is your neighbor.”

The joke about small towns is always true, you know that already. Everyone knows everyone else’s business. You could not shit without someone knowing about it.

You raise your eyebrows, acting like you’re shocked she knows about you already. “Yes, that’s right. Your boy?”

“My oldest son, Joel. He lives across the way from ya,” She starts gesturing towards the couches, “Pop a squat on one and see which one ya like.”

You end up sitting on every couch before landing on a brown leather one with a matching loveseat. The old woman is a great saleswoman on top of being sickly sweet. She told you since you are one of her first customers of the month, she would give you a great discount on a coffee table. You were a sucker for a good deal.

You knew what bed set you wanted immediately. It was a light-washed wood with tall pillars sticking out of every corner. It came with two matching dressers and one nightstand. It was only you, so you didn’t quite care about another side table anyway.

When the lady starts tallying up your total, you watch the slow-moving downtown. A couple walking across the street into the small diner. An older gentleman walking his small dog. The rickety old trucks that loudly took up the roads.

You’re so stuck in your head, you don’t even hear what your total is. All you do is hand over your credit card. She smiles and giggles as she swipes the card.

“So I’ll have my boy deliver it to you tomorrow. He is busy workin’ today, but I’ll have him get it to you. He’s quite the handyman, always busy doing jobs around town. Will you be home in the morning?”

You would have to have some strange man in your home to set up the heavy wooden furniture. It made the hairs on your arm stand up. You knew you would not be able to haul it all, so you had to take the leap of faith and hope and pray this frail old lady’s son is not a serial killer. Or stalker. Or both.

You needed your furniture, after all.

It will be okay, you tell yourself.

“U-uh, I will,” You swallow, “I don’t work right now, so I’ll be home all day.”

“Oh, goody! I will send him your way in the morning. He may have his brother with him just to get the bed up your stairs, but I promise they are good boys. If they aren’t, you come to me and their mama will deal with them.”

You laugh nervously, “Of course, thank you so much.”

–

You had woken up late, your anxiety creeping up on you last night. Your brain would not stop racing. You didn’t fall asleep until 2 am. You hop out of bed around 10:30 and wrap yourself in a cardigan. You have been leaving all the windows open at night, but you can tell the seasons are shifting because it gets so cold at night.

The doorbell rings and it’s like your heart falls out of your chest. You know that after you open this door, you’re welcoming in someone completely new and unexpected and it makes your whole body jitter. You make your way to the front door and take a deep breath before opening it.

Of course. It’s him. The hot cowboy.

It made sense. The endless green across from your home had to be part of his property. The road you almost died on yesterday was right beside his land. His house was tucked right across from the end of your driveway, with countless barns spread across a couple of acres.

You were secretly hoping he would be some silly-looking hillbilly, but instead, you find out your delivery man is the ridiculously attractive cowboy from the day before. His hair is tidy and dark without the cowboy hat on. It’s peppered with some white hairs, but it only adds to his appearance. His flannel has the top three buttons undone and his jeans are stained with age. You are finally able to get a good look at his face with no shadows covering his permanent scowl.

He had to be about 10 years older than you. You were not too far off from wrinkles, but you were still young enough to bear children without being considered geriatric.

He squints at you when you swing the door open. The sun is hitting his eyes, highlighting the warm rich brown color.

“Howdy neighbor,” He greets, a small smirk plays on his lips, “’m Joel. Nice to meet you officially.”

You introduce yourself, trying not to stutter as you say your name. He made you nervous. You chalk it up to just being nervous around men in general. But it’s the way his eyes trailed you as you moved just slightly.

You feel the need to clear the air because of the way he’s staring through you.

“And uh, listen, about yesterday,” You try to apologize, but he cuts you off by raising his hand.

“Wouldn’t be the first time an outsider got themselves hurt bein’ reckless down the backroads. Just glad you didn’t hit my horse.”

The response has a bit of a bite to it. You back up a step, your body also taken aback by his directness. You are used to confrontational people, but you’re not used to Southern folk being that way.

“No, next time I’ll aim for the ditch and tell my insurance that there was a silly cowboy in the road that I had to miss.”

You can tell by the sheepish smile on his face that he was not expecting you to be feisty.

“Don’t think they’d give ya’ much money for that,” He says in a hushed but matter-of-fact tone.

You relax your shoulders, trying to collect yourself. “Probably not.”

He turns back to his truck that has your bed frame in the back of it, disregarding the previous statements. “My brother is comin’ by in a few to help me get this stuff in.”

“Well, let’s not let all the air out of the house right now,” You extend the door wider for him. You are giving this man full access to your home now. You try to suppress your obsessive thoughts and instead decide that you know exactly what you can have him do while you wait. You remember his mom told you he was good with his hands, and since he wants to be snarky to you in the comfort of your own home, you would try to pick his mind about some of your home projects. “Come in, let me ask you something.”

You begin, gesturing him into the entryway. He accepts the offer, kicking his boots off on the porch. You appreciate his thoughtfulness and for a second, you realize you may be the asshole.

“Mama told you I was a handyman, didn’t she?”

You giggle, finding it funny that he could read the situation you were about to put him in. “She sure did.”

“She needs to stop tellin’ folks that,” His accent is so thick and syrupy, that it makes your insides tingle, “Got too many people askin’ me to fix their stuff.”

You guide him to the bathroom right off the living room and kitchen, “You know much about plumbing?”

“I’m assumin’ you don’t,” He mutters, “What do you have goin’ on?”

You point to the loudly running toilet, “This thing won’t stop running no matter what I do.”

“Well, what have you tried doin’?”

You both stand in the hallway, you looking up at him with furrowed brows, him looking down at you with anticipation. He was quick-witted, and you started to hate how much you liked it. He gave your sassiness a run for it’s money.

“I’ve flushed it a bunch of times. Cursed at it and kicked it,” He stares at you blankly. It makes your stomach roll, “Jesus, Cowboy, can you give a girl a break?”

He enters the narrow bathroom, approaching the toilet like there may be a bomb in it. He reaches towards the handle and jiggles it violently, which makes you giggle a bit. That’s exactly what you did.

“So, why here?” He questions, squatting in front of the bowl. He continues to mess with the handle while you process his no-context question.

“What Texas or this bathroom?”

He chuckles, his smile spreading across his beautifully tanned skin.

“You got tons of jokes, huh?”

You don’t respond, just shrug your shoulders. He stands up, wiggling the top of the tank off the toilet. You watch his hands lock onto the sides of it, ensuring it will not drop off and shatter on the dated tile.

“Texas,” He strains, freeing his left hand to mess with the handle. You lean against the door frame.

You are not even sure why Texas. You just needed to get as far as you could away from New York. You did not want your past to catch up with you, and you did not want to get stuck in a city again. But you could not share all this with a random stranger. He may be in your house, looking at your commode, but you can’t completely trust him yet.

“I just wanted a change of scenery. I always wanted a farmhouse.”

“Lots of upkeep,” He jabs, doing one more once over of the tank, “‘M thinking you may need a new float or chain. I can get my tools tomorrow and come over to fix it. May need to order a new part, though.”

You push off the wall, arms still crossed over your front. He puts the top back on and finally makes eye contact with you.

He would come over again? To fix your toilet?

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, ‘m sure it’s the chain or float.”

“No, I m-mean,” You start to stumble over your words. You swallow, collecting yourself for a moment so you do not look crazy to him. “Are you sure you’re okay coming back over?”

He gives you a thin-lipped smile, “What are neighbors for?”

His brother arrives in a rickety old truck at about 15 past 11. He looks a lot like him, but shorter. He has those same eyes though, permanently tired.

“Nice to meet ya, ma’am. ‘M Tommy.”

You grab his hand to shake it and he lingers a bit longer than you anticipated. Joel stayed on your front porch, putting his boots back on to start unloading the furniture.

You are thankful the weather was kind today, especially since every evening this week has been stormy. The sun was beating mighty hard on the men as they collaborated on getting your furniture inside.

While they get everything set up, you busy yourself making lunch. You get the bright idea to make them each a sandwich. It’s the least you could do.

You pile the cold-cut turkey and cheese onto the white bread you had, topping it with some mayo. When you hear their footsteps trailing down the stairs, you race out with the sandwiches on a porcelain plate.

“For your troubles,” You say before standing in their path to the door. Tommy smiles brightly, instantly snatching a sandwich from the plate.

“Thanks, darlin’,” He takes a big bite, humming in satisfaction. He walks around you, leaving you standing in front of Joel. His eyes are piercing, his lips ajar a bit, but nothing is coming out.

“Turkey and cheese, I promise.”

He reaches out grabbing the sandwich from you, “No sweet tea to go with it?”

Your heart sinks, instantly becoming self-conscious of your decision to be nice to these hicks. He was so intimidating with his steely expressions and broad shoulders. There was an essence about him that did not speak to his stone-cold exterior. It was more gentle. But you could only see hints of it when he smiled.

He can tell the wheels in your head are spinning. Before you can speak, takes a bite of the sandwich and shakes his head.

“‘m kidding, Yankee. Thank you, I ‘preciate it.”

You settle for letting out a long sigh and returning to your kitchen. You spend a couple of minutes, putting back all the ingredients in their proper places.

You hear Tommy yell for Joel, his voice kind of panicked. You race out the front door and see Tommy balancing your coffee table off the side of the truck. Joel is running to his aid, the dust from your driveway kicking up behind him. You hold your breath watching Joel help him balance the wooden piece of furniture.

“Can’t have you breakin’ your back before homecoming,” Joel fusses, guiding the legs of the table to the ground, “You know damn well Maria would have me, too.”

“Yeah, what’s a homecoming game without the head coach?”

You perk up, instantly becoming interested in the conversation that you weren’t supposed to be listening in on. The two men lift the table and start heading your way, right on the threshold.

“You coach football?” You ask Tommy, trying not to show your excitement. You loved football, it reminded you of Sundays with your grandfather. You never got the privilege to go to an actual game, even in high school.

“Yes, ma’am, for the local high school in Taylor. We are gonna make it to the state championships this year.”

You glance at Joel when he says it. He rolls his eyes, “Gotta win at least one game to do that, Tommy.”

They place the coffee table right in front of your new leather couch. Tommy grunts, trying not to argue with his brother in front of a strange lady.

He can’t help himself, though. He instantly snaps back at Joel.

“You know them boys have been practicin’ day in and day out. Why ya gotta be so negative?”

Joel places his hands on his hips, “Cause Sarah told me the guys in her grade are a bunch of dummies. I highly doubt they are ready to kick Georgetown’s asses.”

Tommy starts towards the door, “Just cause Sarah says it, doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“I believe my honor student daughter before I believe my dumbass little brother.”

You are not shocked Joel has a daughter. You are just shocked that she’s in high school. He looked too young to have a teen, but then again, he did have some grays sprouting. You cross your arms over your chest, watching Joel scoot the table across your hardwoods.

You’re staring at his hands, trying to conjure up a wedding ring on his left finger. But there’s nothing. Maybe he did not wear it when he was working. Maybe he just forgot to put it on this morning. Maybe his passive aggressiveness towards you was simply to ensure there was distance between you and him, giving you subtle hints that he was taken.

He finally glances up at you, stopping in his tracks when he notes your gaze.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

You have no clue what to say because you are so trapped in your head about him. He’s a stranger, god damn it.

“N-no, everything is okay.”

“Don’t look it.”

“I just was not expecting the coffee table to look so dark against the hardwood,” you lie, pulling whatever you could think of out of your hat, “Doesn’t it look dark?”

Joel looks between the floor and the table, shifting in his stance, “Don’t know bout that.”

“O-oh okay.”

“Alright, well we got ya all set up now,” He starts to head towards the entryway. You trail behind him like a lost puppy, “I’ll be by sometime tomorrow with that part for the toilet. I’m expectin’ another sandwich for that one.”

You grab your front door as you wave to Tommy as he heads for his truck. He smiles and gives you a head nod. Joel turns back to you, his ears perked up for a sarcastic jab from you.

You think back to something he said to you earlier. You crack a smile, “What are neighbors for?”

PART 1 COMING SOON!

taglist (ppl who asked to be tagged): @joeldjarin @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @mysaviorjoelmiller @brittmb115 @missladym1981 @jasminedragoon

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #cowboy!joel #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller au #joel miller angst #joel miller tlou #joel x reader

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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 month

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Haircut

Summary: Javi thinks that he's way past due for a haircut. You like his hair long for reasons other than his good looks.

Word Count: 2.1K (I sprinted to write this after I saw this picture)

Pairing: Husband!Javi x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) Oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, praise kink, (lovingly?) possessive Javi, Javi's back at again with his filthy mouth, hair pulling, Javi is hungry and the man is gonna EAT, allsions to more smut, Jonas Brother's references ( bc Javi is our girl dad king and his daughters love them LMAO)

A/N: Y'ALL REALLY THOUGHT THIS PICTURE OF PEDRO WAS SURFACE RIGHT HERE ON TUMBLR DOT COM AND I WASN'T GONNA DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT?!? WRONG. I legit have 3 WIPS I started in the past 24 hours based on this picture alone. Pedro really did this one for the Javier Peña girlies (gn) and I will forever be in debt to him for that. You cannot tell me that this is Dad!Javi when his kids are a little bit older bc HOLY SHIT?! This really may the nail in the coffin for @notjustjavierpena and I bc really fear this is the dilfiest Husband Javi has ever looked 😩😵‍💫 anyways, never getting over this!!!!

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“God, I can’t even remember the last time my hair has been this long. Lucy keeps saying I look like a Jonas Brother. Am I supposed to know who they are? Is that supposed to be a good thing?” Javi sighed, playing with his dark brown curls in the bathroom mirror as you snuck up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, peeking out to watch your husband’s longer than usual locks twist between his fingers.

“They’re the goofy looking boy band on Disney Channel that the girls are obsessed with. Like the Backstreet Boys, except cooler, apparently.” You laughed, planting a soft kiss into the fabric of Javi’s worn t-shirt covering his broad back before stepping next to him, leaning your hip against the bathroom counter to admire your husband as he fiddled with his hair.

“Jesus Christ, those guys? God, I really do need a haircut before I start looking like the poster what’s-his-face hanging on Lucy and Elliot’s walls.” Javi chuckled, running his hand through his hair once more before mirroring you, his hip resting against the counter, leaning his weight on his palm splayed flat along the granite surface.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think he’s supposed to be the best looking one.” You teased, giving Javi a playful shrug. “Besides, I like your hair long.”

“Seriously?” Javi asked, raising an eyebrow at you, crossing his arms over his chest in protest. “It looks like a mop right now.”

“A very sexy mop.” You smirked, nudging Javi before stepping closer into him, reaching up to run your hand through his curls, slowly twisting the ends with your fingers. “It reminds me of that trip we took to Jamaica a few years ago. Your hair was almost this long, remember? You looked so hot in those stupid floral button downs you insisted on buying, and hanging out shirtless by the pool all day while you played with the girls.”

“Fuck, I forgot about that. I’m surprised we didn’t end up with a fourth kid after that trip.” Javi chuckled, slowly shifting the palm that had been holding him up towards your waist, letting his fingers gently toy with the waistband of your pajamas. “You really like my long hair that much?”

“Mhmmmm.” You cooed, continuing to close the gap between your bodies, your free hand resting on Javi’s chest as the other continued to stroke his curls. You could feel a low groan rumbling in Javi’s throat as your fingers weaved back and forth through his hair, the other creeping up to cradle his jaw, thumb tracing back and forth across the stubble on his cheek.

“Yeah? What else do you like about it?” Javi groaned, his hand slipping under the elastic waistband of your pants to grab a fistfull of your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hand.

“I like…” You paused, bringing your lips to Javi’s, pressing a tender kiss on his lips, “I like that it gives me something extra to hold on to.”

“Hold on to?” Javi asked, cocking his head in slight confusion.

“Hold on to when you go down on me. I love being able to run my hands through your hair when you eat me out, especially when it’s long like this.” You smirked, watching Javi’s eyes go wide in delight, a devilish grin spreading across his face as he bit down on his lip.

Before you could say anything else, Javi’s hands were gripping around your waist and hosting you up to sit on the counter, caging his body against yours, hands planted around the outside of your hips while his lips crashed into yours, your mouths becoming a tangled mess of tongue and teeth.

“Fuck…” Javi whispered to himself, pulling away from your lips to pepper kisses down your jaw and neck, running his hands over your thighs. “I love it when you play with my hair, Hermosa. Love feeling you pull on it when you’re close. Makes me lose my fucking mind every time. Fuck, I’d stay burried between your legs forever if I fucking could.”

Javi began to let his kisses trail down your body, past your chest and across your stomach before he was dropping to his knees in front of you, draping your legs across the width of his shoulders. Pulling at your waistband, you lifted your hips off the counter so your pajamas and underwear could fall to the floor, revealing the wetness that had been pooling between your thighs since you had walked into the bathroom a few minutes ago.

“Jesus Christ…” Javi whispered, further parting your legs to see the arousal already dripping through your folds, staring up at you with a boyish grin on his face, “So fucking wet for me, Hermosa. Didn’t realize you liked my hair that much.”

“Oh shut up you goof, you know I- o-oh fuck-” You whimpered, Javi cutting off the rest of your sentence as the flat of his tongue dragged across your cunt, the suddent sensation making you gasp in delight, already playing in to Javi’s plan as your hand shot down to his head, digging your fingers into his messy hair.

“Better hold on tight, querida. There’s a lot more where that came from.” Javi smirked, pulling away just enough to see the smug smile between his cheeks, peppering a few wet kisses on the inside of your thighs before his head was back between your legs, placing a soft kiss on your clit, already aching and throbbing for more of what you had just been promised.

“Do your worst, Peña.”

That one sent a low growl of approval humming through his chest, laughing to himself as his hands gripped tighter around your thighs, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your skin before another slow, broad stroke of his tongue was traveling through your folds.

While you were truly convinced there wasn’t another man who loved going down on their wife more than your husband did, you could always tell when Javi wanted nothing more than to stay buried between your thighs, making you cum over and over until you were begging him to stop, lapping up every last drop of you until there was nothing left to give, and right now, you already knew Javi meant what he said when you were about to have to hold on for dear life.

The hand buried in the dark waves of Javi’s hair only began to tug tighter as his tongue began to work meticulously across your cunt, pressing just enough pressure against your sensitive bundle of nerves to already have you a squirming, whimpering mess, but painstakingly slow enough to have you begging for more.

“Javi… Oh, shit. Fuck, more baby, please. P-please.” You moaned, looking down at Javi with what you were already sure was a wrecked expression painted across your face.

You could practically feel Javi’s smug smirk pressed against your cunt as he eased one, then two fingers into your aching core, curling them to bump against the spongy spot inside you that already had you fisting at the edge of the bathroom counter to try and keep your composure, and better yet, your voice down.

“Oh my god, f-fuck. You feel so good, baby.” You moaned, feeling the strong arch of Javi’s nose bumping against your clit, placing a soft kiss there before the flat of his tongue licked another long, broad stroke across your cunt, putting just the right amount of pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers worked in tandem to send the sweet tingling sensation to start building in your spine.

“Fuck, I love this perfect pussy so much. I still can’t believe she’s all fucking mine. My perfect fucking wife. Tell me, Hermosa, whose pussy is this?” Javi asked, pulling away for you to see your slick covering his mustache and the lustful look pooling in the dark brown of his eyes, the quiet possessiveness of his tone making your cunt clench even tighter around his fingers as they continued to pulse in and out of you.

“It’s y-yours, Javi, It’s all- fuck- It’s all yours.” You whined, your breath hitching in your throat as you spoke.

“And who’s the only one who makes you feel like this, huh?” Javi tutted, sliding a third finger into your heat, the sweet stretch and sting making you let out a ragged whimper as you threw your head back in pleasure.

“Y-you- Jesus- Y-you are, Javi.”

“And who’s gonna be a good girl and soak my face when she cums for me?”

“M-me.”

“That’s fucking right, you are.” Javi growled before diving back between your legs, working his tongue relentlessly against your clit, circling and flicking in fast and firm motions as his fingers curled deeper into your core, eating you up like a man starved, desperate to make you fall apart.

You could already feel the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten from the way Javi was working so relentlessly to make you come undone, drinking every ounce of you up as his lips latched around your sensitive bundle of nerves, making your back arch and mind go blank while that all too familiar tingle began to creep through your core, cunt beginning to clench tighter and tighter around him.

At this point, your fingers were tugging so tightly around the soft, brown curls of his locks to try and hold yourself together, that you were convinced that you were close to pulling his hair out of his skull, but with the way you were on the brink of collapse from the way Javi’s mouth was working against your cunt, you almost didn’t have a choice.

“Fuck, Javi. Oh shit- Baby, I’m so close. Don’t stop.”

“I won’t stop, mi amor. Won’t stop until this pretty pussy fucking soaks me.” Javi mewled, peeking his head out from under you just enough so that his sweet, brown eyes were locked with yours, the hot words of his breath dancing against your pussy as his fingers continued to rock in and out of you. “I’ve got you, Osita. Promento. Damelo, bebita. (I promise. Give it to me, baby).”

Before you could respond, your jaw dropped open and face scrunched in pleasure as Javi dove back in, burying his face in your cunt as each press of his tongue became more firm and precise than the last, feeling your pussy begin to flutter as you clutched tighter around the edge of the counter, trying to keep from screaming out in pleasure and raise any suspicion. But as your legs began to tremble and your heart race, teetering on the brink of collapse, it was taking every ounce of willpower you had left to make that happen.

“Fuck, Javi. Fuck, I- fuck- I’m gonna, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh.” You whimpered, feeling your orgasm crash through you, pleasure radiating in your veins as you fell apart, losing all inhibitions to keep yourself quiet as you threw your head back in all consuming bliss. With his fingers still buried in your cunt, gently working you through your high, Javi shot back up, his mouth engulfing yours in an electric kiss to try and capture your ragged moans that had been coating the walls of the bathroom, the tangy taste of you still lingering on his lips.

Your heartbeat finally began to slow, your chest heaving in long, heavy breaths as you slumped into Javi, your head resting on his shoulder as your hands stayed buried deep in his hair, grasping onto his now sweat-dampened ends to try and pull yourself back down to reality.

After a few moments of letting you come to, Javi gently pulled out his fingers, all three drenched and glistening with your slick, pulling them out and bringing them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a devilish smirk of satisfaction on his face.

“God, you taste so fucking sweet. You really weren’t kidding about the hair, huh Hermosa?” Javi chuckled, cupping your jaw to cradle your cheek with his broad palm, forcing your gaze up at him.

“I told you.” You giggled softly, still trying to catch your breath as you smiled at him, pulling him in for another long, tender kiss. “Hottest looking Jonas Brother I’ve ever seen.”

The two of you burst out into laughter, practically snorting at your comment, taking a second to compose yourselves as Javi crossed his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes at you.

“If that’s the fucking case, I’m getting out the clippers tonight.”

“Not until you take me to bed and do this all again, you aren’t.”

taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3

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greatooglymooglyyy · 1 month

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Hiya lovely, date night hcs for the boys if that's good by you?

Date Night HC (All Three)

contains: fluff, kissing, nothing crazy.

a/n: first time attempting to write nick romantically. lmk how we feel. love ya

Matthew

- i think a first date with matt would most likely be something at home. like cooking together and watching a movie. it'd honestly feel so casual except for his small little touches and moments of affection.

-i can just see him dropping you off after the date. y'all say goodbye and you're about to get out the car but at the last second, he stops you and leans over to kiss you for the first time.

-speaking of dropping you off, our boy is NOT pulling off until he see you open you door and go inside. he knows better.

-he does not want to do the whole "wait a while to see each other again" thing. after the first hang out, he's hooked. come back over... now

- car. dates. i'm talking random ass late night fast food runs. you stretching your legs out across his lap while you tell him a story and him just nodding and rubbing your ankle.

"do you think we need a telescope to see mars?"

and that turns into y'all laying on the windshield. you straining your eyes looking at the stars and him just staring at you instead.

- once y'all are official, i honestly feel like matt is the type to not even tell you y'all are going on a date. especially if you've been down lately and need a pick me up. he'd just show up like "can you get dressed?"

"i'm not really in the mood to go out."

"don'tttttttttt care. get dressed."

-def stalks your twitter and tiktok reposts to see if you have anything you really want to do & then surprises you. he's never gonna let you say 'if he wanted to, he would.'

"how did you know i wanted to do a picnic?"

"guess i'm just good like that."

Christopher

-chris is giving you the full gentleman treatment on your first date. he's never done this before so he's playing by the book. flowers, opening doors, the whole nine yards.

-super nervous at first when the date first starts but he loosens up once you start laughing. then he's just doing all kinds of goofy shit to keep you giggling.

- so we kind of already heard what he's perfect first date would be... topgolf yadda yadda. but my boy is NOT letting you win. he loves dates where there is competition but letting you beat him is not flirting where he's concerned. the first time y'all go bowling he's dropping 200 on you.

"really chris?"

"huh? my bad. thought a loser said something."

-for those same reasons he loves a good game night. doesn't even matter what you're playing. he loves how excited you get when you finally win at connect four & thinks it's adorable.

-wants the date to be alllll day and you don't mind at all. he picks you up at noon and the next you know it's late at night and y'all are walking through a random park.

-and you just know he's planned this date to the t. he'd pretend like he's being all spontaneous but bro's got an literary on his notes app just in case.

- loves going to concerts with you. doesn't even matter if its one of his artists or yours. just likes sharing the experience and music. hears the song live and becomes obsessed, playing it all the time when he's on aux.

"you're such a poser. you don't even like this song."

"shut up. that was before i saw it live."

-calls EVERYTHING a date. he's coming with you to run errands, go grocery shopping, it doesn't matter. as long as he's with you and can make you smile, he's calling it a win.

-still gets cringed out doing coupley things but finds himself doing it anyway. he's finally starting to understand why people do corny shit like put locks on a fence. he's still not doing that shit but he gets it now.

Nicolas

-i feel like nick would be hard to read so it'd take you a while to even know if he likes you back or not. but then when you finally get up the courage to ask nick on a date he's like... "bitch what took you so long"

-a perfect first date for him would be something creative or something where he can learn. like a pottery class or one of those places where you make your own candle.

-he'd get really into it too. he'd be going around smelling all the scents and turning his nose up at yours.

"don't burn that shit when i come over."

"alright, fuck you-"

-but if you went to a pottery class, you'd make him something small like a jewelry tray and he'd be swooning but trying to keep it cool. he'd probably make a joke about it but it'd be his prized possession, centerstage on his dresser.

-when its his turn to plan a date, he's going somewhere scenic where you guys can take in the view and he can have an excuse to take aesthetic pics of you. even takes a cheesy picture of the two of you kissing with a landscape behind you... not that he'd ever admit that it exists.

"i swear to god, if you ever post that, i'll kill you."

"adding it to my 'nick sturniolo blackmail' folder as we speak."

-would buy one of those adventure books with the date prompts that you add polaroids to and you guys would fill it up. he'd probably be super embarrassed at how cheesy it is but too in love to care.

-loves a good classic dinner and a movie too. always watching the movie first though because he has a million thoughts he needs to share. and you're happy to listen to him ramble on and on.

"-i haven't seen anything like that since donnie darko. that shit was insane. did you see-... why are you looking at me like that."

"you're just pretty. that's all."

"... boy... we're breaking up."

but he can't stop himself from smiling at your corny ass.

-you'd def surprise him by finding a drag show and taking him. he'd be looking at you so sideways when you pull up to a nightclub but you probably actually yelp when he realizes where you are. and at the show, you already know he's blushing a deep red anytime one of the queens interact with him during the performance.

🏷️/ @sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos

@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @accio326 @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable @rootbeerworshiper @st4rswrld @thvvluvr @sturnssmuts @littlenerdybee @sturniolossss @iloveneilperry @eclipzz @sstvrnioloo @chrissloverrrrrrr16

@clemlament @maryx2xx @fwskullz

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doctorbitchcrxft · 1 month

Text

Phantom Traveler | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, namecalling, typical Dean and reader

Word Count: 8289

A/N: Hi guys. I've been overwhelmed with love these past few weeks. Just wanted to say thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading. You guys are fucking awesome; I'm so grateful. I hope y'all enjoy this week's episode! Asks/requests/taglists are open!!!

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You were sound asleep, curled up into yourself when a knock on the door brought you out of your slumber.

“(Y/N)?”

‘Sam.’

“I got coffee, thought you could use some,” he called through the door.

You pushed yourself up out of the bed as you yawned, and walked over to the door of your motel room to open it for Sam.

“Dude, you realize it’s six in the morning, right?” You scratched your head as you let Sam into the room.

“You sound like my brother.”

You playfully glared at him. “Don’t compare me to him.”

“Here.” He handed you a coffee and a bag of what you assumed was a pastry.

“Thanks,” you replied, sitting on your bed with your stuff in hand.

Sam sat on the chair across from you. “Still haven’t warmed up to Dean, huh?”

“Well, he hasn’t exactly warmed up to me,” you reminded him, thinking of the fight you got into yesterday over his reckless driving.

“Guess that’s true,” he conceded. “It’s weird, though, you guys are so much more alike than you let on.”

“Tell that to him. He started it.” You took a big bite of your pastry.

“Seriously?” Sam laughed, “ ‘He started it’?”

You shrugged, smirking.

He seemed to remember his original intention behind disturbing your slumber. “Hey, he found a case, though.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s up?” You licked the pastry cream off your thumb.

“We don’t know. The guy on the phone didn’t say.” Sam raised his coffee cup to his lips.

“Guy on the phone?” You took a sip of your coffee as you let Sam answer.

“Yeah. Some guy my dad and Dean worked a case for a while back’s got another one for us. He called Dean.”

“Ah—” you nodded, “—gotcha. So, where’s he live?”

“Pennsylvania,” Sam responded.

“Okay, not too far,” you noted. “I’ll be ready in fifteen.”

***

“Thanks for making the trip so quick,” a short older man named Jerry told you and the boys. “I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean and your dad really helped me out.”

You were walking beside Sam as you followed behind the man who was having you do this job. You were being led through a warehouse past planes as well as their parts and people hard at work.

“Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?” Sam asked the older man.

Someone walking in front of your group was eavesdropping on you. “Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie.”

“Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking,” Jerry stated authoritatively to the man. He turned his attention back to the conversation. “Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart.” He addressed Dean. “Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?” He’d turned to Sam.

“Yeah, I was. I'm— taking some time off,” Sam explained.

“Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time.”

“He did?” Knowing what you knew about Sam’s relationship with his dad, you found this surprising, too.

“Yeah, you bet he did,” Jerry nodded. “Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?”

“He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now,” Dean lied.

“Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam and— what’s your name again?” he asked you.

“(Y/N).”

“(Y/N). Even trade, huh?”

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that,” you laughed.

“Say, (Y/N), how’d you get wrapped up with these two?” Jerry asked.

“Oh, uh—” you began, searching for an abridged version of the truth, “—I met them on a hunt in California. They decided to drag me along with them.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. The guys are gonna need backup with this one,” Jerry said.

“Why?”

He did not give a direct answer to your question. “I got something I want you guys to hear.”

He led you to his office where you and Sam took the two chairs and Dean stood behind his brother.

”I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley,” Jerry stated, putting a CD into a drive. “Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.”

A frantic voice immediately rang out from the speaker as soon as the recording started. “Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britannia 2485—” the recording cut out with a static sound, “—immediate instruction help! United Britannia 2485, I copy your message—” and cut out again, “—May be experiencing some mechanical failure—” and then cut out one last time. The man’s voice was completely drowned out by static, whooshing, and growling sounds.

“Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south,” Jerry continued. “Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh… well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault.”

“You don't think it was?” Sam questioned him.

“No, I don't.”

“Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors,” Sam listed.

“Alright,” the man replied.

“And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?” Dean inquired.

“The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage… guys— and gal— the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance.” Jerry shook his head.

You frowned.

“No problem,” Dean declared.

You gave him a questioning look to which he shrugged off.

***

“How fucking long does it take to make a fake ID?” you groaned, falling back across the backseat of the Impala. You and Sam had found a way to isolate the EVP on Sam’s computer, having gotten a copy of the tape from Jerry.

“I don’t know,” Sam responded. “But I’m gonna lose it if it’s much longer.”

“Same here.” At that moment, Dean walked out of the Copy Jack the Impala was sitting in front of as a pretty woman walked into the store. They greeted each other before Dean walked over to you and his brother.

“Dude,” you started, “You’ve been in there forever.”

“Wah-wah,” he whined, mocking you. “You can’t rush perfection.” He held up three IDs.

“Homeland Security?” Sam questioned as he took one of the IDs. “That's pretty illegal, even for us.”

“Yeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times,” Dean pointed out as he got into the car.

“Alright, so, what do you got?” Dean asked his brother as he flicked your ID back at you. It hit you square in the side of the head.

“Dude, really?” you hissed, aggravation clear in your tone.

“Shh,” the older Winchester hushed you as he waited for Sam to answer.

“Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder,” Sam explained.

“Yeah?”

“Listen.”

The isolated voice of what you were dealing with came through the recording scratchy and backed by demonic growling sounds. “No survivors!”

“ ’No survivors’?” Dean asked. “What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors.”

You shrugged.

Dean let out a sigh. “So, what are we thinking? A haunted flight?”

“There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers,” Sam began.

Dean hummed in affirmation. “Or remember flight 401?”

“Right. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights.”

“I don’t know, guys,” you stated skeptically. “Ghost just doesn’t feel right.”

“Well, thanks for your optimism, sunshine,” Dean quipped.

“It’s not about optimism, you asshole, it’s about being right and dealing with whatever we’re up against properly,” you pushed back.

“Know-it-all,” the older Winchester replied.

“Fuck off, Winchester.”

He let out a breath and turned his attention back to the case.“Alright, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?”

"Third on the list: Max Jaffey,” you said.

“I wasn’t talking to you, but why him?”

You glared at Dean. “Because if anybody saw something weird, he did. I talked to his mom while you were spending forever in the store. She said some pretty weird shit and told me where to find him. He was so screwed up, he checked himself into the hospital.”

***

You and the Winchesters walked beside Max Jaffey, who hobbled on a cane, through the Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital’s garden.

“I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security,” Max told your trio.

“Right. Some new information has come up,” Dean lied. “So if you could just answer a couple questions...”

“Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything… unusual?” Sam questioned.

Max looked confused. “Like what?”

“Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices,” Dean offered.

“No, nothing.”

Seeing as no one was getting anywhere with this investigation, you tried your hand at it. “Mr. Jaffey, you checked yourself in here, right?”

He nodded at you.

“Why?”

“Uh, I was a little stressed,” he said sarcastically. “I survived a plane crash.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded. “And that’s what scared you? That’s what screwed you up so badly?”

You could tell you were close to the answers you were after as he swallowed uncomfortably. “I— I don't want to talk about this anymore.”

“I know, but I also know you saw something up there,” you continued. “We need to know what.”

“No.” Max shook his head. “No, I was… delusional. Seeing things.”

“He was seeing things,” Dean half-mocked him.

You shot a warning glance at Dean, hoping to get him to shut up.

“It's okay,” you coaxed. “Just tell us what you thought you saw, please.”

“There was… this—man. And, uh, he had these… eyes—these, uh, black eyes. And I saw him—or I thought I saw him...” he trailed off, stopping as he recounted the events.

“What?” Dean asked.

“He opened the emergency exit,” Max explained. “But that's— that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door.”

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, clearly confused.

“This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?” Sam asked.

Max quirked his head at the younger Winchester. “What are you, nuts? He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me.”

***

“I think we can rule out phantom traveler,” you noted as you got out of the car in front of the Phelps’s house. You were going to visit the wife of George Phelps, the man who opened the emergency exit.

“Why?” Dean asked.

“You heard Jaffey. He said the dude had black eyes. Opened a fucking emergency exit on his own. ‘Black eyes’ points me to demon.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Demons?”

“I mean, it makes sense,” Sam shrugged. “He could be a demon. He might be some kind of a creature, too, in human form.”

“Does that look like a creature's lair to you?” Dean questioned as he gestured toward the house that was representative of the essence of suburban houses. From its beautiful garden to the cobblestone steps to the beige paint coating the outside of the two-story building.

Sam shrugged and began leading your trio up the steps of the house.

Once inside, you three sat across from Mrs. Phelps on the couch while she sat in an armchair.

Sam picked a picture of Mrs. Phelps and an older man up off of the side table. “This is your late husband?” he asked.

“Yes, that was my George.”

“And you said he was a dentist?” Dean questioned.

She hummed in affirmation. “He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that...”

Sam asked another question. “How long were you married?”

“Thirteen years.”

You could tell Sam was contemplating how to ask his next question. “In all that time, did you ever notice anything… strange about him; anything out of the ordinary?”

She paused for a moment. “Well, uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean.”

You nodded, clicking your tongue. “I think that’s all we have for you, Mrs. Phelps. Thank you for your time.”

She showed all of you out, and you piped up as you walked down the stairs outside of the house.

“Demon’s sounding more and more correct all the time,” you smiled, trying to joke around.

“Jesus, you’re annoying,” Dean groaned.

“And you’re a misogynistic dick that can’t handle women with brains,” you responded.

“What, are we gonna duke this out now?” Dean stopped by the door of the car, facing you.

You stood by the backseat’s door. “You started it,” you taunted childishly, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared back at him.

“Really?” he leered. “You’re gonna pull that card? Mature.”

“You act like you��re any better.”

“Guys—” Sam tried to cut in, but Dean continued to fight with you.

“You’re such a bitch.”

“Wow, haven’t heard that one before,” you drawled.

“Guys! You can fight later. Wrong place, wrong time to sort this out,” Sam chastised you and Dean like you were children.

You got in the car and slammed the door behind you.

“Don’t hurt my baby ‘cause you’re pissed,” Dean scolded you as he started to pull the car away.

“Just drive, asshole,” you grumbled in frustration as you slumped down in your seat. The rest of the car ride to the local outlet mall was silent.

***

You had never felt more confident. Despite the fact that you could have worn the one dress you already had to pose as homeland security, you decided to treat yourself to a new outfit to distract from your aggravation with Dean.

The boys had gone to a suit shop called “Mort’s for Style,” and you went into a dress shop called “Betsy’s.” It was a cute little shop with a lot of great dress and pantsuit options.

You had picked out a navy blue pantsuit. You wore a white button-up underneath the blazer with the top two buttons undone to accentuate your breasts. The blazer was unbuttoned, and the high-waisted, straight-legged pants you wore matched the black color of your blazer. With the white button-up tucked into your pants and the small amount of makeup you threw on to draw attention to your eyes and lips, you felt good.

Once you had paid for your clothing, you walked out of the shop and back to the Impala. Surprisingly, the boys were not there waiting for you.

You leaned your back against the car, picking out the grit from under your nails.

You looked up when you heard Dean’s voice. “Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers.”

Both of the boys were dressed in sharp, black suits. You almost lost your breath at the sight of Dean, but fought yourself to keep your composure. You would not give him the satisfaction of knowing you found him attractive.

“No, you don't,” Sam told him. “You look more like a seventh-grader at his first dance.”

You laughed at the younger brother’s jeer. “What took you girls so long?” you asked once you got in the Impala. “I thought you two would’ve beat me out the store by a long shot.”

“Dean wouldn’t leave the dressing room,” Sam said dryly.

“Seriously?” you droned.

You and Sam both looked to Dean, who did not answer immediately. When he finally spoke, he complained, “I hate this thing.”

“Hey,” Sam stared. “You want into that warehouse or not?”

Dean rolled his eyes as he continued to drive along.

You steeled your nerves as your black, pointed-toe pumps clicked across the warehouse floor. Your trio was headed to the security guard that would allow you in to see the wreckage.

You held the clipboard you had stowed in your bag close to your chest, acting as some sort of a recorder for the boys. The three of you flashed your badges at the security guard, who nodded and allowed you into the hangar where the wreckage was being kept.

There was a large map of what the plane should look like painted onto the floor, and the parts that corresponded to the different portions of the map were laid in their proper spots. There were wires hung on fences and broken interior parts of the plane laid on tables. The most heartbreaking things for you to look at were the torn passengers’ seats because most of the people who had been in them were now dead.

You looked over at Dean, who had earbuds in and was moving a small box over the tops of the wreckage.

“What’s that?” you asked him.

“It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies.”

You got closer to him, noticing what the object appeared to be. “I know what an EMF meter is; I’m not stupid. But why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?”

“ 'Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade,” he grinned.

“Yeah, I can see that,” you quipped.

His grin disappeared. “Bitch.”

“Dick.”

You once again fought the pain in your chest when he called you a bitch. In all honesty, you thought his homemade EMF meter was cute. However, you were too far gone in your war with him to surrender now.

Dean ran the Walkman over a piece of the wreckage with black spores and yellow dust on it. You could hear the faint sound of a spike on the meter through Dean’s headphones.

“Check out the emergency door handle,” Dean called to Sam.

Sam came over to where you and Dean stood as the older brother scratched at the dust to get some on his hand.

“What is this stuff?” Dean asked.

One way to find out.” You saw the younger of the two brothers start scraping some of the dust into a small bag.

“We need to go,” you told the boys. You weren’t sure what told you that, but you just suddenly felt unsettled. The hairs on the back of your neck stood at attention, and every muscle in your body tensed. You started off toward the exit in the back of the warehouse.

“Wait, (Y/N), what if we’re missin’ something?” Dean questioned, clearly aggravated you were ready to ditch already.

“Too bad, we gotta go.” You kept walking toward the exit, making it out of the door and around the backside of the building.

At that moment, an alarm started blaring through the area surrounding the warehouse.

You turned around to look at the boys as you gloated, “I’m not gonna say, ‘I told you so’!“ Not bothering to rip your shoes off of your feet, you took off running to the gated exit.

Sam and Dean were quick to follow you and soon passed you up. The older brother took off his suit jacket and threw it over the barbed wire at the top of the fence. You did the same with your blazer. After quickly taking off your pumps to avoid hurting yourself when you jumped from the top of the gate, you threw yourself over the fence. The other two did the same.

Sam grabbed your blazer that you were too small to reach from the top of the fence as Dean found it within himself to remark, “Well, these monkey suits do come in handy.”

You ran after the two boys, heels and blazer in hand as the jagged rocks in the cement cut into your feet. As soon as you shut the door to the car, Dean slammed on the gas pedal.

He tore out of the warehouse’s parking lot, speeding down the road to head toward Jerry’s workplace.

"(Y/N),” Sam started, turning in his seat to face you with a curious expression on his face, “how did you know that?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. My intuition’s just always been pretty sharp.” You were being honest; there had been a few times on hunts previously when you’d known it was time to get the hell out of dodge.

“Hm.” You could tell Dean still didn’t trust you.

“Dude, I don’t know what else to tell you. That’s the truth,” you countered. “I’ve been helping you guys with your dad for almost two months now, and you still don’t trust me. I don’t know what more to do for you.”

“Maybe because I don’t know you,” he responded, never taking his eyes off the road.

“Maybe if you tried to know me, you’d find it a little easier to trust me,” you answered.

“Not interested,” came Dean’s grumbled response.

You tried your best to ignore the pang that went through your chest once more. “Of course not.”

***

You refused to speak to or even look at Dean; your frustration with the fact that he had no desire to know you and his general existence boiling to the surface. You could feel his stare burning into the side of your head as you focused on Jerry, who sat in front of you. He was looking through a microscope on his desk at the yellow dust Sam had collected.

“Huh,” Jerry remarked. “This stuff is covered in sulfur.”

“You're sure?” Sam asked.

“Take a look for yourself,” Jerry offered, getting up from behind the desk so Sam could take his place.

Banging sounds along with a string of curse words caught your ear as Jerry sighed.

“If you guys will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire,” he dryly stated, walking out of the office.

You got up from the chair you were sitting in next to Dean. “See?” you started excitedly, gesturing toward the sulfur, “Demons.”

“That would explain how one guy had the strength to open up the emergency exit,” Sam added.

“This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?” Dean put his hands on his hips as he stood. “You ever heard of something like this before?”

Sam looked over at his brother, who responded, “Never.”

“Well, I have,” you said simply.

They both looked to you to continue.

“In NYC a couple years back. Some cabbies had gotten possessed and were takin’ girls left and right.”

“Those were demons?” Sam asked, standing up from behind Jerry’s desk. “That was a huge deal on the news while I was at Stanford. Police thought it was a serial killer. You took ‘em on all by yourself?”

“I’m a big girl, Sam,” you chuckled. “I can handle a few demons. But, yeah, that was me. That was probably the toughest case I’ve ever been on. Finding where those demons had taken those girls after they drugged them in the cabs... where they were raped and murdered...” You shook your head, your cheery expression gone.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Sam told you gently.

Your eyes were glued to the floor, hands on your hips with not a bit of life in your voice as you muttered, “All in a day’s work.”

Sam had asked you to tell him and Dean everything you knew about demons once you got back to the Winchesters’ motel room. Sam sat at the table close to the window while Dean sat on the bed closest to his brother. You stood in front of the two as you spoke.

“Demons exist in every religion in every world culture. With the ones that I was dealing with up in New York, they were most similar to Incubi from early Christian religion. Incubi raped sleeping girls. These demons drugged the girls to put them to sleep, then they raped them, and then they murdered them. What I’m thinking for these demons is that they’re most similar to certain Japanese demons. I had to look into these when I was trying to figure out how to kill the NYC demons. The Japanese believe demons cause certain disasters, whether it be natural or man-made. Some cause earthquakes, others cause disease—”

“And this one causes plane crashes?” Dean deadpanned, cutting you off.

You ignored him. “Demons are having to find new ways to ratchet up the body count. Like with me in New York, Incubi can’t go about their old methods anymore. This demon probably evolved with the times like the Incubi did, and so it figured plane crashes were the best way to get its job done.”

Dean snorted, getting up from. the bed and turning away from you and his brother.

“What?” Sam asked.

He turned around, scratching the back of his neck. “I don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death, and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here.”

“Yeah. Me too,” the younger Winchester admitted.

Dean’s phone rang, and he answered it. “Hello?... Oh, hey, Jerry… Wha— Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?... Where'd this happen?... I'll try to ignore the irony in that… Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon.”

He hung up the phone.

“Another crash?” Sam questioned, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah. Let's go.”

“Where?”

“Nazareth.”

‘Ah, there’s the irony.’

***

After leaving the horrendous scene of Chuck’s plane crash, you and the boys went back to Jerry’s office. Once again, Jerry confirmed that the dust you had taken from the steering wheel of Chuck’s plane was, in fact, sulfur.

“Well, that's great,” Dean sassed. “Alright, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him.”

“If that's the case, that would be the good news,” you chimed in. You looked up to the sky, addressing the pilot. “No offense, Chuck.”

“What's the bad news?” Jerry asked you.

“Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into the flight, just like 2485,” you informed the older man.

“Forty minutes?” Chuck inquired. “What does that mean?”

“It's biblical numerology. You know Noah's ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death,” Dean said.

“I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in,” Sam explained.

"Any survivors?” the older Winchester questioned his brother.

“No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason.” Sam turned to you after thinking for a moment. “On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said?”

“ ‘No survivors,’ “ you realized. “It's going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job.”

Dean drove the Impala down an empty highway.

Sam was on the phone with one of the survivors from the plane crash, the conversation almost over. “Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, And if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks.” He hung up the phone. “All right. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon.”

“That leaves the flight attendant, Amanda Walker,” you commented.

“Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight P.M. It's her first night back on the job,” Sam told you and his brother.

“That sounds like just our luck,” Dean grumbled.

“Dean, this is a five-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel,” Sam said worriedly.

“Call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass,” Dean tried.

“I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off.”

“God, we're never gonna make it,” you shook your head, leaning back in the seat as you scrubbed a hand through your hair.

“We'll make it,” the older brother countered, slamming his foot on the gas.

Somehow, someway, Dean had managed to get to the airport at ten minutes to seven.

You jumped up out of the car, taking your gun out of your pants and stashing it under the backseat.

“What are you doing?”

You still did not feel like talking to Dean but answered him shortly nonetheless. “We’re going into an airport.”

Dean finally caught onto what you meant and took all of his weapons off of him, too. “I feel naked.”

You fought the smile threatening to creep up your face.

You rushed into the airport just behind the boys, squeezing your way through the crowd of people to get to the departure board.

“Right there,” Sam pointed out. “They're boarding in thirty minutes.”

“Okay. We still have some cards to play,” Dean paused, thinking for a moment. “We need to find a phone.”

He found a courtesy phonw on the wall, picking it up. “Hi. Gate thirteen… I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight, um… flight 4-2-4.”

He waited impatiently for Amanda to pick up the phone. When she finally did, he began speaking again.

“Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here… Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so—” His face fell, his eyes widening a touch. “You what?... Uh, well… there must be some mistake—”

Sam went around his brother to try to get a closer listen.

After a longer pause, Dean let out a sigh of relief and smiled. “...Guilty as charged… He's really sorry… Yeah, but… he really needs to see you tonight, so—... Don't be like that. Come on. The guy's a mess. Really. It's pathetic… Oh, yeah… No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda!” Dean slammed the phone back onto the receiver. “Damn it! So close.”

"Alright, time for plan B. We're getting on that plane,” you stated firmly.

“Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second.” For the first time since you met him, Dean looked scared.

“Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash,” Sam argued.

“I know.” He looked conflicted.

“Okay. So we're getting on the plane, we need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll get the tickets. You and (Y/N) get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever that will make it through security. Meet me back here in five minutes.”

Dean looked at Sam blankly, evidently a little anxious.

“Are you okay?” the younger Winchester asked.

Dean hesitated. “No, not really.”

“What? What's wrong?”

“Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh...”

“Flying?” you cut in.

“It's never really been an issue until now,” he told you.

“You're joking, right?” Sam huffed.

“Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?” he spat.

For the first time since you met him, you didn’t feel like mocking him about his fear of planes.

“Okay, then (Y/N) and I’ll go,” Sam proposed.

Dean shook his head. “What?”

“We’ll handle this one.”

“What are you, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash.”

“Dean, we can do it together, or I can do this one with (Y/N). I'm not seeing a third option, here.”

Dean scratched his head. “Come on! Really? Man...”

Dean walked much faster than you did toward the car to get supplies, clearly trying to leave you in his dust.

“Would you slow down a bit, please?” you asked.

“Why should I?”

“Because even if you get to the car before me, you’re not gonna have a fucking clue what to use to deal with a demon,” you reminded him, your words a bit more venomous than need-be.

He stopped, turning to face you. “Are you calling me stupid?”

“No,” you told him. You truly weren’t.

“Definitely sounds like you are.”

You walked past him to the trunk of the Impala. “I wasn’t, I’m simply pointing out the fact that I’m the one who knows how to deal with demons, and you don’t.”

“There you go again. Acting like you know so much better than I do.” His attitude was truly exhausting.

Your voice rose as you defended yourself. “Because I do! In this case, at least!”

“But it’s not just this one time that you acted like you’re better than me,” he argued. “Do you realize how frustrating it is to deal with your smart ass?”

“Do you realize how frustrating it is to deal with yours?” you threw back. You sighed, putting aside your anger for now. “Look, we don’t have time to talk about this.” You shoved holy water, a rosary, and the EMF Walkman into Dean’s hands. “Now, let’s go.”

You shoved past Dean and headed back to the airport.

***

You sat between Sam and Dean, completely at ease. Dean, however, was losing his mind.

"Just try to relax,” Sam whispered from the window seat

Dean’s voice came back harder and slightly louder. “Just try to shut up.”

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” you scolded playfully.

“Don’t be a bitch,” Dean clapped back using the same tone with you that he had with Sam. He took in a sharp breath when the plane began moving a second later.

You gathered your courage and grabbed his hand. He jerked away from you and looked at you in surprise. When the plane took off, though, his hand rejoined yours, squeezing tightly. You giggled to yourself.

“I’m so glad this is funny to you,” Dean hissed.

“It’s not,” you answered simply.

“Then why are you laughing?” His grip tightened once again.

“It’s just,” you considered your next words carefully. “It’s kind of cute, that’s all.”

Dean was caught off-guard by your response. He eyed you quizzically, unsure of what to say. You just shrugged, settling the back of your head against your seat with your hand still in Dean’s. It was much larger than yours, and you fought the urge to run your fingers along the calloused ridges.

Moments passed in a bit of an uncomfortable silence before Dean spoke again, not a trace of bite in his tone. “Why are you doing this?”

You rolled your head toward him. “Everybody’s scared of something,” you quietly replied. “It helps me to know I’m helping you. Even if you do hate my guts.”

“I don’t hate your guts.” He spoke so softly you almost couldn’t hear him.

“Pfft, could’ve fooled me,” you answered.

“You just…” he started, “...get on my nerves. ‘S all.”

You giggled.

A few minutes later when the plane had fully gotten up in the air, you heard the familiar sound of a song you had heard many times before in the Impala coming from the man next to you.

“You're humming Metallica?” Sam asked Dean monotonously.

“Calms me down,” the older brother replied.

“ ‘Some Kind of Monster’? Really?“ You raised a brow at him.

Dean did not respond to you.

“Look, man, I get you're nervous, all right? But you got to stay focused,” the younger Winchester reminded his brother.

“Yup,” you chimed in. “We only have thirty-two minutes to track the bitch down and full-on exorcise it.”

“Yeah, on a crowded plane,” Dean commented. “That's gonna be easy.”

“Just take it one step at a time, alright?” Sam said calmly. “Now, who is it possessing?”

“It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress,” Dean stated.

“Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up,” Sam told Dean, who hummed in response.

Dean sat up stiffly, his body still tense as he turned to the blonde flight attendant walking past.

“Excuse me. Are you Amanda?” he asked her.

“No, I'm not,” she answered with a smile.

"Oh, my mistake.”

The flight attendant hummed in agreement.

He peered into the back of the plane, finding the other blonde flight attendant. “All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state.”

“What if she's already possessed, genius?” Sam asked.

“There's ways to test that,” Dean responded, pulling the holy water out of his jacket. “I brought holy water.”

“Correction, I brought holy water—” you leaned forward, gently taking the bottle, “—And that’s for when we try to exorcise the demon. She’ll flinch at the name of god if she’s possessed.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Dean replied, getting up from his chair. You could tell he had not. You already missed the feeling of his hand in yours.

He turned to go, but you stopped him.

“Dean!” you whispered.

“What?” The annoyance in Dean’s voice was back.

“Say it in Latin.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then what is it?” you smirked, quirking a brow.

“ ‘Christo!’ I’m not an idiot!” he hissed back. Dean turned away from you and headed to the back of the plane.

You slumped down in your seat, closing your eyes as the copilot began speaking. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your first officer speaking...” you tuned out the rest of his message.

A few minutes went by before the older brother returned.

“Alright, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet,” he sighed as he flopped back into his seat.

“You said ‘Christo’?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“There's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her.”

“So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere,” Sam explained.

The plane shook, causing Dean to tense up. He grabbed your hand once more. “Come on!” he whined. “That can't be normal!”

“Hey, hey, it's just turbulence,” you coaxed.

“Sweetheart, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm fucking four.” He went to drop your hand, but you tightened your grip.

“Okay,” you started, changing tactics. Your tone became harsh. “You need to calm down.”

“Well, I'm sorry, I can't,” Dean sassed.

“You didn’t want to be treated like you’re four, so stop acting like it,” you commanded. “Be a man, Winchester. If you’re a basketcase, you’re wide open to possession. Get your shit together. Right now.”

Dean took a deep breath.

You smiled. “Great. Onto the Rituale Romanum.”

“The what?” Sam and Dean asked in unison.

“The exorcism ritual,” you elaborated. “It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful.”

“More powerful?” Dean questioned, his voice strained and eyes wide.

“Yup.”

“How?” He was starting to get panicky again.

“It’d just be able to wreak havoc on its own without a vessel,” you informed.

“Oh. And why is that a good thing?”

“ 'Cause the second part of that sends the bitch back to hell once and for all.”

“First things first, we got to find it.”

“There ya go,” you chuckled.

“Shut up,” Dean grumbled, getting up from his chair with the EMF Walkman.

You and Sam let him walk down the aisle by himself for a few minutes before the two of you got up to go talk to him.

You tapped his shoulder.

“Ah!” Dean jumped back, wheeling around to face you. “Don’t do that!”

“Anything?” Sam asked.

The older brother shook his head. “No, nothing. How much time we got?”

“Fifteen minutes,” Sam told you and his brother. “Maybe we missed somebody.”

“Maybe the thing's just not on the plane,” Dean shrugged.

“No way. Dean, it’s gonna be here,” you protested. Just as you spoke, the EMF meter spiked.

You looked up to see the copilot coming out of the bathroom.

“What?” Sam asked. “What is it?”

You stared at the copilot. “Christo.”

The man’s head slowly turned toward you and the boys, his eyes black.

You wheeled around to face Sam. “We gotta talk to Amanda.”

“She's not gonna believe this,” Sam contested.

“You’re probably right, but we only got twelve minutes,” you reminded the younger brother. You walked ahead of the boys into the concessions area where Amanda busied herself.

“Oh, hi. Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope,” she smiled politely, clearly caught off-guard by your presence.

“Actually—” Dean began, “—that's kind of what we need to talk to you about.”

Sam closed the curtains behind you as Amanda answered Dean. “Um, okay. What can I do for you?”

“Alright, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have time for the whole ‘the truth is out there’ speech right now,” Dean rushed out.

She looked confused but kept her smile painted on her face.

“Alright, look, we know you were on flight 2485,” Sam continued for Dean.

Her grin disappeared. “Who are you guys?”

Sam ignored her question. “Now, we've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure.”

“We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now,” the older brother told her.

“I'm sorry—” she started, attempting to move past you, “I— I'm very busy. I have to go back—”

“Chuck Lambert’s dead, Amanda,” you cut in, effectively stopping her from leaving. “The pilot from 2485.”

“Wait. What?” She turned to face you, her eyebrows furrowed. “Chuck is dead?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “He died in a plane crash. That’s the second plane crash in two months. Doesn’t that strike you as weird?”

She shook her head in complete disbelief.

“Look, there was something wrong with 2485,” Sam added. “Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too.”

Dean made a last attempt to drive the point home. “Amanda, you have to believe us.”

The blonde looked to the ground. “On… on 2485, there was this man. He… had these eyes.”

“Black eyes?” you asked.

She nodded.

“That’s exactly what we’re talking about,” Sam clarified.

“I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?”

Dean answered before you got the chance to. “Okay. The copilot, we need you to bring him back here.”

Amanda looked between the three of you, confused. “Why? What does he have to do with anything?”

“Don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him. Okay?”

“How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot—” You could practically see her mind running a mile a minute.

Even Sam was getting impatient. “Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit.”

“Do you know that I could lose my job if you—”

“Babe, you're gonna lose a lot more if you don't go get him right now,” you remarked.

She looked at you and nodded, turning to leave for the cockpit.

As soon as Amanda made it out of the curtains, you fished the holy water out of your hoodie’s pocket, moving to press your back against the wall next to the closed blue curtains.

A few moments later, you heard the copilot say to Amanda, “Yeah, what's the problem?” Just outside the curtains. As soon as the demon ducked into the small room, Dean punched him in the face. He then shoved the demon to the ground and slapped duct tape over his mouth.

“Wait,” Amanda protested as you got down on the ground beside Dean, “What are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him.”

“We are gonna talk to him,” Dean replied simply as you splashed the copilot with holy water.

The demon groaned under the duct tape, his skin sizzling and burning holes through his shirt.

“Oh, my god. What's wrong with him?” Amanda cried.

“Look,” Sam started calmly, “We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain.”

Amanda’s breath quickened. “Well, I don't underst— I don't know—”

“Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that? Can you do that? Amanda?”

She gave herself a pep talk before heading outside of the curtains.

“Hurry up, Sam,” Dean groaned. “I don't know how much longer I can hold him.”

The demon went to kick the older Winchester in the back, but you dove to grab his legs.

Sam began reciting the Latin ritual written in his father’s journal. “Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino—”

The demon kneed you in the forehead, causing you to fall back and got a few good swings at the boys in as well. You clambered on top of the copilot, sitting on his stomach with his arms pinned by his sides under your legs.

Sam continued with the ritual before the demon threw you off of him. He ripped the tape off of his mouth and turned to Sam. “I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!”

You attempted to recover from getting slammed into the wall while Dean focused on attacking the demon.

Sam sat there in shock, so you grabbed the journal and tried to finish the ritual.

The demon hit Dean again, effectively getting the young man off of him and knocking Dean into you. The book fell from your hand, and the demon kicked it out into the passenger’s cabin.

A cloud of black smoke flew out from the copilot’s body and into a vent while Sam went out into the aisle to find the journal.

Suddenly, the plane shook violently and took a nosedive. The lights in the plane flickered and you and Dean were thrown to the back wall of the concession’s area.

You and Dean screamed as the plane went down. Dean held onto the emergency exit door for dear life as you pressed yourself into the corner opposite from the older Winchester.

Your yelps were cut off when the plane leveled out following a surge of electricity coursing through the aircraft. You assumed Sam was able to finish the ritual and the pilot was able to regain control of the plane.

You shakily stood up from the ground and dusted yourself off, tugging on the sleeves of your large hoodie.

You stepped out into the passenger’s cabin, heading to Sam as people began asking their neighbors if they were okay.

You wrapped Sam in a short, tight hug as you thanked him for keeping his head level enough to finish the ritual and trying to comfort him after what the demon had said. When you had made your way back to your seats, a slight rumble went through the aircraft. Dean grabbed your hand once again, and kept it there for the rest of the flight. A small smile tugged at your lips.

After landing back at your original airport, you stood beside Sam and Dean as you watched the swarms of EMTs, FBI agents, and FAA agents go from person to person. They questioned or looked over each one, and your focus bounced between them.

You found Amanda in the crowd talking to an FBI agent, and she turned to the side to mouth “thank you” to you and the Winchesters.

“Let's get out of here,” Dean said firmly.

You began to head to the exit when Dean asked Sam, “You okay?”

You turned back to Sam, who reminded you and his brother, “Dean, it knew about Jessica.”

“Sam, these things, they, they read minds. They lie. Alright? That's all it was.” The older brother attempted to brush Sam’s concerns off.

“Yeah.” The brunet didn’t sound convinced.

“Come on.”

***

The next day, you and the Winchesters visited Jerry at his workplace to give him the final mission report. Jerry showed you and the boys out and escorted you to the Impala parked outside of the warehouse.

“Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed,” he acknowledged. He shook your hand before turning to the boys. “Your dad's gonna be real proud.”

Sam gave him an awkward, tight-lipped smile. “We'll see you around, Jerry.”

You turned to the car, as did Dean before he turned back to the older man.

“You know, Jerry—" he began.

“Yeah.”

“I meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway?” the young man continued. “I've only had it for like six months.”

“Your dad gave it to me,” Jerry explained simply.

“What?” Sam exclaimed in shock.

“When did you talk to him?” Dean questioned.

“I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call.” He took a pause. “Thanks again, guys— and gal,” he grinned.

“Bye, Jerry!” you called after him as he headed off.

“This doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number like fifty times. It's been out of service,” Sam told his brother.

Dean dials what you assumed was his father’s number. However, instead of the out-of-service message Sam had described, a voicemail began to play.

The two boys leaned into the phone so they could hear it better.

You leaned over Sam’s shoulder, the voice hard to hear, but you were still able to make out the words. “This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help.”

Sam fumed, shaking his head in frustration as he got in the car. He slammed the door behind him. You looked over to Dean, who did not meet your gaze. He got in the car following his brother. You took one last look at the setting sun as a plane flew over your head.

“I fuckin’ hate flying,” you muttered.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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witchwyfe · 7 months

Text

best way to spend a summer day - kook friend group

pairing - (non-canon) platonic!kook friend group x female reader, (non canon) platonic!rafe cameron x female reader, (non canon) platonic!topper thornton x female reader, (non canon) platonic!kelce x female reader

précis - golfing with the boys!

content/warnings - mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, mentions of eating, language

word count - 818

"What if we--"

"No."

"Please!"

"No."

"Please angel, we'll only do 9 holes and then buy you lunch after." Topper, ever the mediator, offers.

"You were gonna buy me lunch anyway."

Rafe rolls his eyes and you snicker, leaning back in the lounge chair you're resting in.

"I just don't understand why this how y'all want to spend your time. Kelce's internship and Rafe's study abroad start in one month, we're wasting our one month of summer by fucking hitting balls on grass."

You're met with three glares and simultaneous responses.

"Okay, you can't say 'we' if you haven't even been going."

"There is way more technique than just hitting balls."

"Hey!"

"And what would you suggest we do then, mamas?" Kelce asks, raising an eyebrow over his sunglasses.

Your face warms at being put on the spot, three gazes stuck patiently on you.

"I don't know, shopping on the mainland, movie nights, brunch at the island club--"

"You can have island club drinks on the golf cart!" Rafe exclaims, throwing his arms up before slapping them at his sides. "And we'll get brunch afterwards."

You sigh dramatically. "9 holes? Not 18?"

Rafe smiles, knowing they've already won. "Of course."

Topper picks you up bright and early the next morning, Rafe and Kelce already packed into the backseat with one set of clubs, the other two in the trunk.

"Morning boys." You smile sarcastically, climbing into the front passenger seat.

"Good morning mamas." Kelce smiles. "Thank you for coming."

"Hm, y'all better make it worth my while." You joke.

"Getting to spend time with your best friends isn't worth it?" Rafe asks, feigning offense.

"Shut up," You groan. "You guys know I love you. Even when you make me golf."

They all made a big deal about your new Lululemon golf dress, and promise to take cute pictures of you in the golf cart, all by the time you pull up to the country club.

You juggle your sunglasses, phone, and water bottle once Rafe opens the door for you.

"Thank you Rafe," You smile, reaching up to pinch his cheeks. "You're such a gentleman."

You wait with Kelce while the other two go to get the cart. You let their clubs stay propped up against your legs so that don't fall to the ground.

Topper takes the purple Stanley--that he got you for Christmas--from your hands and sets it into the cup holder. You help them load up their clubs then you're making yourself comfortable in the front again.

"Do they sell cocktails at the beverage carts?" You wonder. "Or should I grab one now before we go?"

"Think they only sell beer, babe." Kelce frowns. "And they don't allow open cups on the course."

You groan, leaning your head back. Rafe digs around in his golf bag, brandishing a small bottle of champagne.

"Don't worry bestie girl, we didn't forget about you." He smiles, shoving the bottle back inside. "Gonna get you some orange juice from the bev cart and you can make a mimosa."

"Rafe!" You cry, throwing your arms around him. "You're the best!"

"I know, I know," He smirks. "Aren't you glad you came with us, now?"

"I guess," You grumble, playfully rolling your eyes.

You sit comfortably in the golf cart, while your friends play, sipping on the mimosa Rafe mixed you, scrolling on social media, and occasionally reminding the boys to reapply their sunscreen.

Kelce even dragged you out to take a swing and they all cheered you on when you failed miserably, taking a sloppy bow before skipping back to the golf cart.

Once you’re back at the club, seated at your favorite table, you’re lightly clasping your mimosa glass in your hand—this one prepared by your waiter and not Rafe with his Blender bottle.

“I think it tasted better when you made it, Rafe.” You frown, taking another sip anyway.

“'Course it did.” He grins smugly.

You pull a lip gloss from the handy pocket in your golf outfit, coating a thick layer over your lips. You take your napkin and work it over the rim of your glass too, even though you'll get more gloss stuck to it on your next sip.

"You're just one of the boys, aren't you?" Topper teases, just to mess with you.

You cap your gloss and set it on the table, narrowing your eyes into a glare at Topper. "No, I am not."

"Yeah, she's like our bratty little sister." Rafe pipes up, reaching over the table to steal a handful of your fries.

"Yeah, I'm the bratty one." You smack Rafe's hand, grinning when he whines. "And I'm literally older than you, Rafe."

"By like two months!" He argues.

"Okay and?" You retort. "Still older."

He makes a point by stealing more of your fries.

"Brat. You know you're the one paying for those, right?"

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ynbabe · 5 months

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Fake texts au- pt.9 bffs with the rookies+ The Hangover II

| Masterlist |

"WHAT THE FUCK!" the boy's Australian accent echoed throughout the room, making the employees stare at the group of seven.

"What the hell did you guys do? Zak's texting me about it because you aren't picking up your phone." His older teammate explained making everyone stare at the usually timid boy.

He patted his jeans and hoodie, "I can't find my phone, do one of you have it?" He asked his friends making the three check around but finding nothing, "Call Alex he's still in the room, maybe I've left it there." He said making Y/n reach for the phone but finding nothing, Arthur and Logan, checked for theirs but did not find them either.

"What the fuck?" Y/n asked, "Where are all our phones?" She looked at the older men for answers.

Max and Charles looked disappointed and Lando looked like all his prayers had been answered, "Finally, I'm not the irresponsible kid of the grid!" He exclaimed gleefully making the four shoot glares at him, Oscar most annoyed of all, threw his table napkin at his teammate.

"Wait, Oscar, what's on your hand?" Max asked, reaching out to hold the younger boy's hand, pushing the sleeve of his hoodie up to reveal a haphazardly placed blue stamp. "Seriously, y'all went to-" Max expressed his disbelief as the others rolled up their sleeves to find the same stamp.

"Who let you guys in? You can't get in without a sponsor?" Max asked.

"of course, you'd know about a club like that," Charles remarked, making Lando laugh and nudge his friend and Max rolled his eyes at the antics of the two men sitting on either side of him.

"Wait, fuck, I remember- My friend got us in," Y/n spoke up, getting flashbacks of the night before.

"Of course," Arthur began but then remembered a memory of his own, "Oh my god, we went to the hospital too, 'cause I fell... from somewhere," he groaned.

"Did we go to the zoo? why do I have so many scratches?" Oscar complained, looking at his arms.

"Oh my god, Y/n look at your face!" Logan whisper-yelled, making everyone stare at the young woman.

"Wha- rude!" she said but pulled Lando's phone out of his hand, turning on the camera. "WHAT THE FUCK!" she screeched, touching her nose, which was turning black and blue, much like the bruises on Arthur and Logan.

Arthur poked at her eyebrow making her hiss, as she swatted his hand away, "What the fuck even happened?" she asked and looked around, passing the phone back to Lando.

"Okay, okay, wait, timeline time," Oscar said, making everyone turn to him.

"Like the Hangover?" Logan asked, "Exactly," his friend replied.

"Okay, so, we were in the club till midnight," Arthur began.

"Then we went out to get food to McDonalds, till like 1, I think," Logan continued.

"And then we went to my club," Y/n said, with a look of regret.

"That's where you all lost your phones," Max said, making everyone look at him for an explanation, "they take people's phones away so people can have privacy." The Dutchman shrugged.

"Wait but didn't we call you?" Y/n asked.

"Yes, from Lando's phone,"

"Lando, you were there the whole time!?" Oscar yelled, looking at his teammate accusingly,

"I so wasn't," he yelled back, I was at the club with Carlos," he said.

"oh okay, yeah, that explains it," Y/n shrugged,

"Anyways, I met, the four of you while going home, but you all DRAGGED me to where you all were going," He continued, "Y/n and Arthur already had a hospital band around their wrists, I think maybe that's where the 20k went,"

"Fucking American healthcare," Y/n exhaled as she touched her nose again.

"And you all stole my phone and called Max like a Billion times, and then Max and Charles got there and Arthur and Logan began climbing a fucking building and Oscar and y/n kept going onto the road."

Everyone looked at him dumbfounded, finally the only reaction was Arthur running out of the room to throw up.

"Lightweight," Y/n and logan said at the same time, laughing after they realised.

"Uh, Y/n," Charles called out to the girl, scrolling on his phone, "Did you post on your account, last night?

"FUUUUCK"

we are scandalingggggggg, next is the last chapter of the Hangover saga 😥 kinda sad but I've got a lot planned for later!

But what do you guys prefer? Writing, Insta-styled posts or fake texts? or a combination of all three?

Taglist: @dark-night-sky-99 @cashtons-wife @i-wish-this-was-me @thehufflepuffavenger1 @eugene-emt-roe @fangirl-dot-com

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literallyjusttoa · 10 months

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My top 7 Apollo exes from Ancient Greece

DISCLAIMER: Though I have done a lot of research of mythology for this, it is based off of the riordanverse version of Apollo. I won't be acknowledging any awful implications in versions of these myths, not because I don't think they're important, but because it simply isn't a part of riordanverse Apollo's characterization in the books. Also I'm not going to mention Copollo. I love Copollo like the rest of you, but sadly that is a Rick Riordan exclusive, and also technically Commodus is an ex from Ancient Rome, not Ancient Greece :3

Ok with that out of the way lets talk obscure and non-obscure Apollo relationships

7. Apollo & Thyia

This one clocks in at number 7 because I love the idea behind it, but it is the most bare bones relationship myth wise. All we really know is Thyia is a priestess of Dionysus and she and Apollo maybe had a kid once. But like, the idea of Apollo dating his brother's priest? Hilarious, A+ stuff. Also, Thyia isn't just one of Dionysus' priests, she is THE priest of Dionysus. She runs his temple in central greece, is thought to have offered the first sacrifice to him, and might have been the first Maenad? Either way this relationship must have been insane. Also she's a nymph so she's definitely still kicking out there, would love for these two to meet again.

6. Apollo & Hyacinthus

Ok ok I know what y'all are thinking. Number 6?? This is like Apollo's number 1 most tragic relationship of all time!!! And yes as an angst lover I do enjoy the pain this relationship brings our boy, but I just feel like there's not many places to go with this relationship besides what we already have. Like Apollo and Hyacinthus were kind of the perfect couple. Which, like, great for them, but it doesn't give me much space to add anything? I guess, great ship, no notes.

5. Apollo & Hypermnestra (& Oikles)

Ok, half the reason this is here is because her name is Hypermnestra. Slay. But also this is a great place to bring up my favorite little headcanon. In a lot of Apollo's relationships, there will be a child, and myths will have different versions with different fathers. Some say it's Apollo, while other's say it's whoever he dated's husband. In this case, myths disagree on whether Amphiaraus was Apollo's son or the son of Hypermnestra's husband, king Oikles (Oikles??? I love these names). The implication here is infidelity, but I disagree. No, I think every time there's confusion over who parentage it's because Apollo was dating both the woman he's said to be with and her husband, and therefore no one knows who ended up, y'know, fathering the child. Anyways Apollo dated both Hypermnestra and Oikles and you can't convince me otherwise.

4. Apollo & Branchus

I like this relationship because in my mind, I always thought it was Apollo's first. In one version of their myth, it is said that Apollo met Branchus after leaving Delos as a dolphin, which I always thought implied this was soon after he established Delphi, which was really early on. Idk something about a young Apollo accidentally revealing his godliness to this boy he really likes is just so sweet to me. And he makes Branchus into a prophet, which is so cool! These two are cutie-patooties is what I'm saying.

3. Apollo & Kyparissos

C'mon, the man died of grief because his deer died. Throughout ToA we learn that deep down Apollo is a mushy ball of emotions and compassion, and that convinced me that these two spent 75% of their relationship crying over baby animals and pretty people. I love the idea of Apollo dating someone who's honestly just as much of a loser as he is. And while it is sad that Kyparissos is another lover Apollo had to turn into a plant, I have to emphasize again that he died of heartbreak, because his pet deer died.

2. Apollo & Cyrene

Listen, these two are boss bitches and you cannot convince me otherwise. In the same way I like Kyparissos bc I feel like he and Apollo are so similar, I like Cyrene bc I feel like, in a lot of ways, these two are very different. Like, don't get me wrong, Apollo can be strong and wild when he wants to be, but Cyrene wrestles lions. I like to think the time these two spent together really helped each of them grow in their own way, which makes for a really fun and interesting relationship. Also, just like Thyia, Cyrene is sometimes referred to as a nymph, so she could still be out there!

1. Apollo & Admetus

The more I think about these two, the more I love them. Admetus meeting Apollo at his lowest and helping him through it. Apollo falling head over heels as a result and doing everything in his power to repay the man. The two of them still holding such strong affection for each other even decades after the time they had together, to the point that Apollo would mess with fate to extend Admetus' life. Apollo's life is full of turmoil, and this period of it was probably the worst, but despite that, his relationship with Admetus seems so steady. The other gods are said to be embarrassed of Apollo's love of Admetus, and I think it's because Apollo loved him in a way that went directly against the values of the gods. Apollo and Admetus' relationship was defined by service and care, filled with selfless intent and genuine love. While many gods give their lovers gifts and special favors, the idea of actually going into servitude for someone you love is as ungodly as you can get. Apollo spent time with Admetus, and he wasn't possessive of him, helping him to find a wife after their time together was through. I think this relationship is a great example of how Apollo, even in his lowest moments, is a genuine and caring person, and how that often separates him from the rest of his family. Also these two are just cute and they both love cows and they're cows in love.

#trials of apollo #toa apollo #lester papadopoulos #sunny speaks #long post #this idea hit me out of nowhere and I had to do it #shut up sunny #lmk if I convinced yall to ship anything because some of these pairing have given me brainrot

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wordstome · 5 months

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Single Dad!König (Dream Daddy au)

(+ a bit of Ghost under the cut)

Thank you to everyone who indulged (said exactly what I asked them to say 😅) me.

Here’s the paragraph I wrote:

I imagine his heart sinking when Ava comes home sad and quiet, unwilling to look her dad in the eye. He recognizes what that means: that used to be him as a kid. His worst fears are confirmed when Ava admits she's being harassed by a boy at school, replaced by anger when Ava says her teachers simply shrugged and told her that boys will be boys, and has she considered that maybe he just has a crush on her? Needless to say, by the time König's walking out of that school, nobody will ever be hurting his little girl ever again. Honestly, one glimpse of Ava's dad by her classmates will keep her free from bullying for the rest of her life.

Now here’s a bit more about single dad König, namely, how he came to be a dad…and single :( Angst and death tw ahead (nothing graphic)

With Ghost, I said he would only have had Caden due to an accident, because of Simon’s previous trauma involving his family. He was firmly in the mindset that he would die in the field, he’s just not built for civilian life anymore, he's a danger to everyone who loves him. However, when Caden shows up at his doorstep, all he can think about is Tommy and his nephew Joseph when he looks at the boy. He probably does his best to get Caden sent to a different family member, but let’s suspend our disbelief that any responsible social worker would leave a kid with Simon “Ghost” Riley for a moment and say that the social worker is like “It’s you or the foster care system.” Realistically, Simon would probably be like “foster care is safer than living with me” but for the purposes of the AU, he took the kid in.

With König, he doesn’t have the same trauma/hangups regarding kids and family. He’s in the same boat as Simon: he’s a human weapon, and can’t function properly in civilian life. For König, his work is an outlet and keeps him stable. I’m gonna have to sit down and make a proper post about my König’s character (Alexander), but for my König, violence is a method of regulating his emotions and a way to manage his anxiety. Having power and being hyper competent in the field is key to his mental stability. However, I think he would be able to settle down, it would just take a very patient, special woman. (For the purposes of the AU his first partner is AFAB she/her.) Here’s where I start breaking hearts… 🤭

In Dream Daddy au, König considers his first wife the love of his life. She deeply understood him as a person and wasn’t afraid of him, even when he was socially awkward and intimidating. They were honestly kindred spirits: both of them had their neuroses and flaws, but instead of trying to fix each other or mold the other into some ideal partner, they accepted each other and thus were able to grow together. (And tbh they were already a match made in heaven anyway.) König’s wife never asked him to quit, and was completely ready to raise a child with him frequently being gone. She was a badass woman, and she really, really wanted to start a family with him, so they had Ava.

For three years, König was probably the happiest he’s been in a long time, and if you asked him he’d probably say it was the happiest time in his life. He was moving up the ranks at work, his mental health was in check, and he had a wife and adorable little daughter to go home to every leave. He started planning to transfer to a safer/more stable position, because as much as the military has done for him, he’s ready to step up as a father and a husband. Then he gets a call that changes his life forever, and suddenly he doesn’t get a choice anymore.

(I'm eternally sorry to the little fictional people I made up in my head because I entertained the idea of putting the Brooklyn 99 "Guess who got murdered!" gif here...)

One thing y'all need to know about my man Alexander is that he is the embodiment of "I am not meant for casual. I was born for soul-crushing devotion." His problem is that he never had devotion before his wife: he craved it like a starving man, and it engulfed him like water flowing into a basin when he got it. He had it for a handful of years (I'm thinking 6 but that's a flexible number), and now it's gone again. You know in movies when something horrible happens and they cut all the noise and there's just a high pitched ringing sound? That's König getting that phone call.

God. All I can imagine is König dropping everything and taking the next flight home. He’s in a daze, in a way that he’s never quite been before. His mind is finally quiet, but the emptiness is not peaceful. Then he finally sees his little girl, she runs into his arms, and the dam bursts. He just holds her and cries. He’s numb, a dead man walking throughout all the business that needs to be taken care of after his wife’s death. The only thing that brings him back to the land of the living is Ava. She’s so small, so sweet, and she doesn’t really understand what death means: all she knows is that her mama’s gone somewhere, and her dad is so, so sad all the time. She’s all that keeps him going, and the only reason he keeps himself alive.

By the time you come into his life, it’s been several years, but Ava is still a little girl. She doesn’t remember her mother at all except what König tells and shows her, because he’s determined to keep her memory alive. König’s been slowly rebuilding who he is as a person from whatever scraps are left. There’s a gaping hole inside him, and he’s reconstructed himself around the hole. In some ways he’s a totally new man, in other ways, he’s gone back to who he was before his wife came along. He’s bitter and angry at the way his life has treated him just as he was as a young man, but now he’s swallowed up by guilt and self loathing. He's gotten better at coping and functioning as the years have passed and life has continued on, but his grief has never really gone away.

(alexa, play "right where you left me" by taylor swift)

#HERE BUCCA GOES WRITING ESSAYS ABOUT A FICTIONAL MAN AGAIN #i spared you guys the 2 extra paragraphs about König’s changed perspective on death and mortality #könig #konig #könig cod #konig cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #dream daddy au

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mangomonk · 8 months

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call me whenever

↳ summary: remus is a clingy lightweight ↳ content: fluff, mentions of alcohol, established relationship from i caught myself, rock band!muggle ↳ a/n: i love writing remus x winnie, i'll prob keep writing more oneshots of them out of order if y'all have any scenario requests!

"Merlin, why do Muggle contraptions always have so many bloody buttons—"

"Did you finish putting her number in? It's 34—"

"Hello?" Winnie asks uncertainly into the receiver.

A pause. And then an overly bright voice, shouting into the phone. "WINNIE! SWEETHEART, JUST THE PERSON I WAS LOOKING FOR!"

"Sirius, you don't have to shout, I can hear you perfectly fine," Winnie sighs, wincing away from the receiver.

"Oh, really?" Sirius sounds genuinely bemused.

Winnie hums. "Where are you calling me from? I don't recognize the number."

"One of those phone-telly boxes," Sirius says. Winnie has to bite her tongue to prevent herself from correcting him. "Anyways, we were— oof." His voice cuts off mid-sentence with a grunt. "I mean, I was wondering if you were home and free right now?"

Winnie hesitates warily. "I am both home and free."

"Brilliant," Sirius sighs. "Do you think you could come and pick up Remus? He's had one too many Firewhiskey's and he's always been such a lightweight—" His voice cuts out for a moment amidst a lot of shuffling. "—and I think he's one wrong look away from biting mine and James's head off— oof."

"Is he with you now? Can I talk to him?"

The shuffling stops abruptly. A pause, before Sirius speaks up again, his voice a little wheezy. "No, he's not out here. Or with me right now."

Winnie's brows shoot up. She bites back a small smile, now able to imagine the two of them squished in a little phone booth. "You guys are at the pub downtown, right?"

"That's the one."

"I'll be there in fifteen," Winnie says, already looking around for her keys.

"Brilliant, we'll— I'll see you then!"

Winnie is about to hang up when she can hear Sirius grumbling on the end of the line. Knowing him, Winnie bets that he left the payphone hanging. "I don't see why you couldn't just send her an owl."

Another voice, heart achingly familiar. "She's afraid of the owl's claws."

Sirius huffs. "You could've just called her yourself then."

"Didn't want to bother—" The line cuts out.

Winnie puts the phone down, smiling widely as she grabs her keys.

— — — — —

When Winnie enters the crowded pub, she spots him immediately. He's slouched on a barstool around a table, head resting in his hand and his long legs kicked out under him. Contrary to Sirius's description, he doesn't look like he's about to murder anyone. He's watching James waving his hands animatedly at Sirius, the corners of his lips twitching.

Winnie steps around the room, careful to hide from his view before she moves behind him. "Come here often?" She whispers into his ear, grinning already.

Remus straightens, his head whipping over to her with such speed that she's a little worried for his neck. Up close, Winnie can see that his cheeks are flushed a rosy pink so pretty that dimly, she wishes she was an artist so that she could capture this view of him. She thinks she could write a song about his pretty flush. "Winnie," he says, mouth curving into a smile, her favorite kind — white teeth flashing, dimples showing. Her heart is squeezing so painfully in her chest, but she's sure that Remus has no idea what he's doing. Remus has never been big on PDA, so Winnie's a little surprised when his big hands start reaching for her hands.

"Hi lover boy," she says, letting him pull her towards him.

"How was your rehearsal?" He's holding both of her hands now, his thumbs rubbing circles against her skin.

"It went well," she says, smiling. "Hi guys," Winnie says to the others.

"Hi darling," Sirius drawls, lips twitching behind the rim of his glass. "You came right on time — another minute and he would have had our heads." James snorts, nodding in agreement.

Remus ignores this, his brown eyes not leaving hers as his fingers reach the sleeve of her turtleneck. "Is this new? I like it," he says, smile turning dopey. "You look lovely, cariad."

Winnie's cheeks go pink, half because of how he's looking at her, pretty eyes soft with unabashed adoration and affection, half because she can see Sirius and James's mouths go slack.

"Merlin, you're in deep, Moony," Sirius exclaims.

Next to him, James makes a gagging sound. "Please spare us and take him home," he begs, but he's grinning. His grin falters when Remus turns to shoot him a withering glare.

"Right, I heard you were in need of a ride home," Winnie says, trying to keep a straight face when Remus turns back to look at her, his expression softened from his previous vitriol.

He's gone puppy-eyed, his eyes big and brown as they stare up at her hopefully. "Let's go home?"

Saying bye to the boys is quick work. Sirius is practically shoving them out of the pub with James making gagging sounds behind him.

As they walk to the parking lot, Remus's arm winds around her waist, his hands fiddling absentmindedly at the knitted material of her turtleneck. It feels as though ever since she's come, he hasn't stopped touching her — not that she minds, of course. When his fingers brush against her skin accidentally, it sends a shiver up her spine.

"Cold?" He asks, already stopping in his tracks to shrug off his jacket. Winnie doesn't bother saying no or pointing out that it's a warm night. Remus has always been endearingly bossy when he's sober — she can only imagine him now refusing to budge until she takes his jacket. Plus, she likes the smell of his jacket. And with the way he can never quite look away from her when she's wearing it or one of his lumpy jumpers, she reckons he gives them to her for his sake too. Remus drapes his jacket over her shoulders, his fingers tugging at the collar.

"Thank you," she says, smiling up at him fondly.

"Were you busy?" He's tugging her even closer now, his arms bracketing around her as he straightens the shoulders of his jacket.

"Never too busy for you," she says meaningfully, reaching up to fluff at his hair affectionately. Remus seems to melt into the action as she threads her fingers into his sun-kissed hair, his warm cheek settling against her palm. His eyes have gone sleepy and soft on her, his lip jutting out stubbornly. God. She wants to kiss him senseless. "You can call me whenever. Owl even, if it keeps its claws off my furniture."

Remus's brows knit together for a moment before his face falls. "You heard?" He asks, lips twitching into a deep frown.

Winnie laughs, squeezing at his cheek. "Sirius is not exactly subtle or good with Muggle technology."

"I didn't want to bother you," Remus admits, letting his head drop forward against her shoulder. He's really too tall for this, but somehow he manages to slouch enough so that he can rest his forehead against her shoulder. "But I wanted to see you."

His honesty makes her stomach do loops. "Yeah?" Winnie hums softly, impossibly endeared. She runs her thumb over his splay of freckles, faint now against the warm tan of his skin. "I always want to see you too, so call me whenever, okay?"

Remus's hands find their way to her waist. "Yeah, okay," he mumbles into her shoulder. He turns his head, his face pressing against her turtleneck. She can hear him inhale deeply. "I don't like this," he grumbles, one hand reaching up to tug gently at the high neck of her shirt.

Winnie blinks. "You just said you liked my shirt," she says accusingly, a little offended now.

"I did," he agrees solemnly, pulling back away from her just enough to look at her with big, sincere eyes. Saccharinely innocent. Then his eyes dart down to shoot her shirt a baleful look, his lips jutting out in the closest thing she's ever seen him get to a sulk. "But now it's in my way."

Winnie can feel her face flush, but she tries to hide it with an arched brow. It fails, clearly, because she can see the way Remus drinks in her flustered expression, his sulk disappearing immediately, lips hitching smugly. "Yeah? Well I guess you'll just have to deal with it because I like this shirt," She grumbles mulishly, pulling away in embarrassment but Remus gently grabs her hands again and sets them firmly on his shoulders. Winnie's stomach is doing flips now.

"I think I can find a way around it," Remus murmurs distractedly, nosing against her jaw and already hooking a finger into the neck of her turtleneck and tugging it down gently to reveal the nape of her neck.

Winnie can't help the happy sigh she breathes out when his lips ghost against her skin, his hair tickling her ear. He presses a firmer, open-mouthed kiss against her collarbone, his fingers still dipping into her shirt. His other hand rises to cradle the back of her head gently, his long fingers threading through her hair as he noses along the nape of her neck, lips soft and ticklish. "My heart," he mumbles against her skin fondly. Affection blooms in her so violently, all she can do is grasp at his shoulders. When she tilts her head back a little to give him more access, she can feel his lips curve into a smarmy smirk. The bastard. ""Shall we go home?"

— — — —

my masterlist!

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romancefranaticstay · 2 months

Text

·.¸¸.·♩♪♫ ꧁✴ 𝒲𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒾𝓉 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉? ✴ ꧂ ♫♪♩·.¸¸.·

••¤(`×[¤ 𝕮𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖌𝖔𝖗𝖞: 𝖋𝖑𝖚𝖋𝖋 𝖙𝖔 𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖘𝖙 ¤]×´)¤••

••.•´¯•.•• WARNING: ANGST ••.•´¯•.••

Part 2: here

╰┈➤ ❝ [A⋆b⋆o⋆u⋆t] ❞:

You are secretly in love with a popular boy at your school. His name is Lee Know. He is your crush for about 2 years. This year you wanted to make a move, every fairytale has a happy ending, will yours to?

••¤(`×[¤ A/N ¤]×´)¤•• <I made this v▪e▪r▪y angsty>

!!!THIS IS A FANFICTION!!!

'Who am i?'

'Does he know me?'

'Does he regonize me?'

'Does he know i excist?'

'What am i?'

All those questions are wandering through your mind.

You liked Lee Know for a long time now, and you decided to make a plan. Ofcourse your friends help you.

'Send him a love letter!' Lisa shouts

'No don't, bump 'accidently' into him.' Amaray says.

'Guys, we need to have a plan i actually going to survive.'

they rolled their eyes

'Look Y/N, if you want to express your feelings towards him, you need to stand in the spotlight!'

'Spotlight?'

'Yeah!' they said both

'What do you mean?'

'Tommorow we are going to go shopping, okay? We are transforming you into a brand-new woman!'

'You guys can do that?'

'How hard can it be? We have still 1 day untill the new year of school starts!'

'And by the way, Lee Know needs to like you for who you are. Not for who you represent. Understood?'

'Yes ma'am!'

you all laugh.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-漫~'¨¯¨'·舞~ 𝒶𝓉𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓁𝓁 ~舞'¨¯¨'·~漫-

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

All three of you are walking around the mall, looking for clothes and accesoires.

'Your style should be a mix of classy and y2k.'

'Yeah or maybe formal?'

'Guys stop it.'

'Cmon y/n we are trying to help.'

'I know Lisa, but like what if he doesn't want me?'

'Than we will kick his ass.' Amaray says confidently

You laugh

'Yeah sure 'kick his ass'.'

'Bet?'

'Nobody is kicking anybody's ass.' Lisa says.

You are walking into a shop and see many clothe's and accesoires. Some stuff are catching your eyes.

'Lets try this on.' you say while holding some piece of clothing.

'Lets go for it!' Amaray says.

You go into a cabinet and putt it on.

(for reference what your wearing:)

You came out of the cabinet and your two best friends start to clap in their hands and jump.

"Omg, y/n you look like on of those girls of a kdrama!'

'Really you think?'

'Yeah! You look beautifull!'

'You guys, stop it.' you blush

'Don't be so shy now.' Lisa ruffels your hair.

'Stop ruffling mine hair.'

'Hey respect the older ones.' Amaray says.

You roll your eyes.

You bought the clothes you had on and decided to spend some more hours at the mall.

After that you went home. You looked at the clothe's you bought.

'This will be mine glow up, he will finally see me.'

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-漫~'¨¯¨'·舞~ 〜a∿t∿ ∿s∿c∿h∿o∿o∿l〜 ~舞'¨¯¨'·~漫-

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You entered the school, hair styled, some 'natural girl' makeup and ofcourse your new clothes.

'I swear y/n everyone is staring at you. You are alreaddy popular.'

'Stop it, i swear.'

'Cmon, this is our teenage life, to live for life.'

'Yeah listen to Amaray, this are our years.'

'Okay but i had an idea to send him a heart-shaped popsicle.'

'Thats a pretty good idea, actually.'

'Omg, than you can show that your sweet like sugar!' Lisa shouts.

'You get the joke? A popsicle is sweet. No? Okay.'

'Anyways, i think its a very good idea y/n.'

'I will put a letter with it. But y'all will help me right?'

'Ofcourse, thats why we are here!'

'Lisa, did you drink an energy-drink today?'

'Yeah why?'

'Nevermind.' Amaray says.

You giggle.

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(¯*•.¸,¤°´✿.｡.:* 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 *.:｡.✿°¤,¸.•*´¯)

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This year you sit in a different class than Lisa and Amaray, but Lee Know is in the same class. So... its not that bad.

You sit in the back row of the class. Some popular girls are being idiots and you see that Lee Know isn't here yet.

You take your book and start reading. It is a romantic book. You love romantic books, sometime's ofcourse.

'He looked at me and said: you are mine forever.'

Its so sweet, you are melting away.

Suddenly someone come's sitting next to you. You never saw him here before.

'Hey, is it okay if i sit here?'

'Yeah, sure.' you smile.

'Are you new here?' you ask.

'Oww, yeah. I am Han, Han Jisung.'

'Thats a very beautifull name, i am y/n.'

'Thats also a very beautifull name.' he giggles.

'What ya reading? Will it last.' he reads.

'You like romantic books?'

'Yeah sometime's, depends which time and which book.'

'Cool, cool.'

'And you?'

'I am more an action guy, you know.'

'Ow, so your like 'piew piew' and 'The A-team' type of guy.'

he laughs.

'Piew, piew. Oui madame, j'aime piew piew.'

you both laugh.

'If you want to, you can sit with me and mine friends.'

'That would be piew, piew-fantastic.'

'You are a comedian, aren't you.'

'Most people call me the king of laughs, but sure.'

'Name one person who calls you that.'

'I don't need any prove, because i am the prove.'

'Yeah sure 'king of laughs'.'

You see Lee Know entering the class, and sitting some seats away.

You didn't realise you stayed looking at him, while he is sitting down.

'Hello, earth to y/n. ELLO Y/N.'

he looks over to Lee Know.

'Oh, i see.' he smirks 'is he your crush?'

'What? No, no. He-, i mean. No never, bleh.'

'Yeah sure.' he winks.

'What are you winking for?'

'Just, you are a bad liar.'

You turn red and start covering your face with your book.

'Don't cover yourself up now, you look so adorable. Like a little tomato.'

you burst into laughter.

'You don't make any sense Han.'

'You don't either.'

During class, many girls were flirting with Lee Know. You hated the way they were touching him, even tho he isn't yours. The worst part is that you just sat there and couldn't do anything. Just look and feeling jealous.

Class went very fast actually, if you observe others. But you tried to focus, you really did. But it just didn't work, if you hear those girls giggle and playing with his hair. It just breaks you inside.

When the bell ringed, you finally escaped with Han the classroom.

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ミミ◦❧◦°˚°◦.¸¸◦°´❤•.¸♥ 𝓛𝓾��𝓬𝓱 ♥¸.•❤´°◦¸¸.◦°˚°◦☙◦彡彡

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'Whats upp y/n. Ow, well hello there. Who did you brought with you?'

'So everybody, this is Han.'

'Han, this is Lisa and Amaray. And that dude over there, is IN. He is very shy by the way.'

'Ello, everybody. So okay, Lisa, Amaray and IN. Easy to remember.'

'Actually IN, is his nickname.'

'Whats his real name?'

'Actually its Jeongin.' Lisa comments.

'Anyway, nice to meet y'all.'

'Nice to meet you to, Han.' Amaray says.

'So y/n, you know what you are going to write on the letter?'

'What letter?' Han asks.

'Its just a plan.'

'Yeah for her LOVER.' Lisa laughs.

'Lee Know?'

'He knows alreaddy?! Y/N you need to start going undercover, like really.'

'I am trying Amaray.'

'Lee know? You like him.' IN asks.

'Yeah, but a tiny bit.'

'Yeah sure, sure sure.' Amaray comments.

'She is obsessed, like litterly.'

'I am not, first of all. By the way, Lisa. Don't you lik-'

'Stop, don't. I swear y/n, don't you dare.'

'I am not going to say anything, i pinky promise.'

'Okay but what can i write on the letter?'

'Maybe like: Every time i see you, mine body is full of joy, and full of laughter. I never believed in love at first sight, but with you i do. Xoxo your secret admirer.'

'Wow Han, thats actually really good.' you say.

'Thank you.' he blushes.

'Write that down! Come on!'

'Yeah write that down!'

you take your notebook and start writing exactly what Han said.

'Okay all done, now i just need to buy that popsicle.'

'I can come with you.' Han proposes.

'Sure!'

'And we will suport you mentally. Right IN?'

'Yeah, for sure! But just to ask, how you going to give it to him?'

'Okay, i and Lisa are going to look if he is around and she's going to put it in his backpack!'

'Fantastic right?'

'Be carefull okay?' Han says.

'I will.' you smile.

'But lets eat, i am starving!'

'Yeah me to.' Han winks.

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ミミ◦❧◦°˚°◦.¸¸◦°´❤•.¸♥ 𝓐𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓼𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓸𝓵 ♥¸.•❤´°◦¸¸.◦°˚°◦☙◦彡彡

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'Lets go, Han.'

'I am coming, have some patients.'

You roll with your eyes.

'Okay , i am done. Lets go!'

'You take like hours to make your backpack.'

'Yeah right. Prove?'

'You've got to be kidding me.'

'I am just joking around.'

'Ha-ha-ha, funny.'

you cough sarcasticly.

You two are walking in the city. Han is walking close to you. Its a cold day, to be honest and your hands are freezing. You try to warm them up, but it doesn't work.

'Your hands are cold?'

'A tiny bit.'

'Wait let me just.' he take's your hands and take them in his.

'Better?'

'Wow, your hands are hot.'

'Not only mine hands.' he winks.

'Dirty boy.' you laugh

'What?! I mean mine nose is hot to. Dirty minded y/n.'

You roll your eyes.

You two walk into a candy shop and you buy a big heart-shaped popsicle.

'This one is perfect.'

'Yeah it is.' Han says.

'I am coming home okay?'

'I will walk with you, don't want someone to kidnap you.'

you laugh

'Thank you Hannie.'

'Hannie, is that mine new nickname?'

'Yeah.' you say proudly.

He walks you home, still holding your hand. You look at how he is holding your hand. And you kinda like it to be honest...

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ミミ◦❧◦°˚°◦.¸¸◦°´❤•.¸♥ 𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓫𝓵𝓮 ♥¸.•❤´°◦¸¸.◦°˚°◦☙◦彡

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'Okay Lisa, Amaray, readdy for Mission impossible?'

'Yeah okay, his packback is standing there alone.'

'I don't see any people around.'

'Okay quick as a cat, quick as a cat.'

'Wait there is one person looking our way.'

'Don't be suspicious, don't be suspicious...'

'Okay she is not looking, okay now y/n!'

you ran with your letter and popsicle towards his backpack and place it inside.

'Okay now run!'

you three run together (not far) and hide behind a tree.

'Okay nobody saw me?'

'No, everything is safe.'

'Wait he is coming towards his backpack.'

'Shhh, Lisa.'

'Shhh, Amaray.' she mocks.

Lee Know took his backpack and went inside.

'Okay we did it! We actually did it! It wasn't that hard actually!'

'Yeah, we should work for the FBI!'

'Yeah right, you Lisa, could do that. Yeah sure.'

'Why you laughing.'

'Okay you kids, lets get out of here.'

Nobody saw you guys.... or so you hope...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------◦❧◦°˚°◦.¸¸◦°´❤•.¸♥ 𝓒𝓪𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓒𝓪𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽𝔂 𝓒𝓪𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽 ♥¸.•❤´°◦¸¸.◦°˚°◦☙◦

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You were sitting in class, and you saw girl whispering and pointing at you. You didn't even know why.

Han sat next to you and whispered:

'Hey, why are they all looking your way?'

'I don't know, its freaking me out.'

'Just stay cool okay?'

'If you say so.'

During class it was very uncomfortable, so once the bell ringed you ran outside the class to find your other friends...

'Guys, am i hallucinating or is everyone looking at me?'

They all look at you, with a weird expression.

'Why are you all silent...'

'Lisa? Amaray?' you look at them

'IN?'

'Uhmm, can i tell her?'

Amaray nods.

'So uhmm, someone saw you.'

You froze

'Someone saw me?'

'We don't know who, really y/n.'

'I need to get out of here.'

'Wait no y/n-'

you ran out the cafeteria towards the restroom. You quickly locked yourself in.

You sat there for about 5 minutes when you suddenly heared knocks on your stall.

'Used.' you yell.

The knocks were becoming louder.

You open the door and see there standing Lee Know and a girl.

'Here you stupid popsicle back.'

she throws it on the floor and jumps on it.

'And your stupid, and UGLY letter.'

she rips it apart in front of you.

'You are the definition of loser, you understand? Stay away from him.'

Lee Know just stare's at you, without doing anything.

'What do you think of her Lee Lee?'

'Unactractive, weird, stupid.'

'You hear that?'

'Unactractive.'

'Weird.'

'And stupid.'

'Lets go Lee Lee.'

She takes his hand and they go both out of the restroom.

Tears rolling off your cheek. Staying there with the popsicle and letter in your hands.

'Xoxo from your secret admirer'...

65 notes · View notes

i4bellingham · 1 year

Text

MORE THAN JUST AN INTERLUDE: pedri x reader

SYNOPSIS: in which a relationship thought to be a fleeting moment lasted for more than they'll ever know.

CONTENT: incorporated with a slight social media au! + obsessive hateful fan speaking shit. conversations are in (google translated) spanish and english + gavi being an adorable child + innuendos by pedri :’p / also NOT PROOFREAD please don’t sue me. read part two here

pedri

❤️ 💭 ↗️ 　　　　　 • •

Liked by gavi, alejandrobalde and 1,768,923 others

pedri el más feliz contigo. feliz aniversario mi amor. the happiest with you. happy anniversary my love.

tagged: yourusername

View all 13,901 comments

user1 wait what- one year ???? 😧

user2 y'all been together for one year i-

user3 remembering the days where your fans thought this was just a fling 😭 you guys are celebrating one year with each other now congrats 😭❤️

gavi happy anniversary!

fcbarcelona sending love to you and yourusername ❤️

user4 another month now and you'll break up anyways 😐

user5 shut yo stanky ass

user4 let's bffr here besties they're not gonna last ☺️

user6 user4 and this is why your father left you, your mom hates you, you failed school and you're single meanwhile yourusername is here living the absolute best of life 🤷🏻‍♀️

yourusername

❤️ 💭 ↗️ 　　　　　 • •

Liked by jamalmusiala10, neymar, pedri and 195,986 others

yourusername here's to many more small midnight talks about life with you. happy anniversary bebe ❤️

tagged: pedri

View all 4,679 comments

_rl9 never let the haters ruin such a beautiful relationship!

pedri never

gavi the second picture is when you text him and his focus is not with us anymore :/

yourusername i always tell him to stop texting me when he's out with you guys though ☹️

gavi i know, pedri just doesn't listen because he's annoying like that

yourusername say sorry pedri :/

yourfriend1 happiest anniversary to you both! ❤️❤️

pedri i love you

yourusername i love you more

pedri i love you the most

yourusername i love you more than most

pedri i love you so much that no words could ever describe to which extent

alejandrobalde pedri we get it man 😃 (anyways happy anniversary yourusername)

gavi pedri simp (i don't know if i used that word correct)

Pedri was still high on adrenaline when he was whisked away for an interview just after their game.

His football jersey clung onto his skin in an uncomfortable but familiar hug with grimes and sweat all over his body. If people looked closely, they'd find small specks of dirt on his cheeks from the amount of time he tried intercepting a ball pass from the opposing team. He still looked good nonetheless, not that he needed someone to remind him that as he stood carefree in front of the multiple camera shooting his every angle as he waits for the first question to pop up.

“So... what a game huh?” The reporter chucklesㅡ for what reason, Pedri doesn't know but he simply chuckles alongside him. “How do you think of your performance today Pedri? And how do you think that contributed to the win tonight?”

Pedri scratches his nose bridge, then placing both hands over his waist as he takes a lean back to keep the mic near from his lips.

“I think this is one of the best games that I’ve played entering this season. I think that defensively I’ve gotten a lot of progress and it showed in this game tonightㅡ but I believe there is still room for improvement. I think that I had made a few bad calls during the game as well so I’ll definitely look into that as to not make the same mistakes again but overall, I’m pretty satisfied and happy with how my performance played out tonight and contributed to our team’s win.”

The reporter nods his head behind the camera, seemingly impressed at the response he got from one of Barcelona’s golden boys.

“Any celebrations happening tonight for this big win? For another 3 points on the board?”

Pedri smiles but he shakes his head. “No, the guys will get into that but I will be celebrating something else tonight, this is a special day for me and for my girlfriend after all so I just want to spend this night with her.”

“Speaking of girlfriend...” The reporter trails off, flicking through his card with a teasing glint and smile on his face as he follows through with his statement. “It’s your guys’ anniversary today yes? Made quite a lasting impression on Twitter, this one.”

Pedri nods his head, eyes steering away from the media crew momentarily when his eyes catches a familiar figure walking towards them alongside Gavi.

“Yes, it's our anniversary today so not only do I get to celebrate the win tonight but I also get to celebrate an entire year of love and happiness with my girlfriend.”

Pedri shoots you a smile when you catch his eyes, mouthing ‘wait for me’ as he tends to his media tasks by finishing off the interview with a few more remarks for the game, team improvements and whatnot before he walks over to you and Gavi in brisk steps when he's finally done.

He's a few mere foot away when you immediately open your arms for a hug, not minding that he's still dirtied up from his previous game, all with the sweat and gunk clinging onto him. Pedri immediately falls down into your embrace, and Gavi takes that chance to slip away when he sees the cameras pointing to you both while still airing live.

You plant a kiss each to his cheeks and nose, leaving more than a swift peck to his lips that he returns gratefully and with glee.

“I’m so proud of you, do you know that?” You tell him as he leans his forehead against yours. “You did so well today baby, I’m very very proud of you.”

Pedri wraps both of his arms around your waist, locking you snug against him as you snake your hands around his shoulders.

“You always tell me that, no?” He leans down to whisper in your ear. “But you can always show how proud you are of me yeah?”

You don’t say anything but you do slap his chest when Gavi comes in barreling through your hug, jumping behind your boyfriend while he's got both hands over Pedri’s shoulders.

“Happy Anniversary to the two of you!”

Pedri shakes the younger one off before moving to walk away, pulling you behind him. “Too loud Gavi.”

“But we won! And it's in your anniversary and you guys should all be loud!”

Pedri smiles tight-lipped, another whisper going through your ears before he's leaning back up as if he never just said something to rouse you up.

“Oh you'll definitely be loud tonight, that's for sure.”

Not only did the media capture you lip-locking live with your boyfriend after his post-game interview, the interaction with Gavi and Pedri’s whispered suggestive comments that left you stunned and bothered definitely made it to the trending topics on Twitter for the next days to come.

#☆ i4bellingham writes #☆ pedri #pedri x reader #pedri x you #pedri fanfic #pedri fanfiction #pedri imagine #pedri imagines #pedri one shot #pedri one shots #pedri

428 notes · View notes

nyimasu · 1 year

Text

───── 𝑃𝐴𝐼𝑁𝑇 𝐼𝑇 𝐵𝐿𝐴𝐶𝐾

PAIRING — yoshida hirofumi x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS — it just so happens that you and yoshida have been crushing on each other for some time and now it's time to take it up a notch.

CW — reader is a civilian, aki is really salty here y'all but deep down he's a cinnamon roll <3, canon universe (slight differences), mutual pining, wet dreams, blindfolds, multiple orgasms, creampie, monsterfucking at the end but nothing serious yet

WC — 4.9k ;; cross-posted on ao3

ANYA'S CORNER — all characters are aged up here and well, this might as well be the first of other fics about yoshida *sighs* time will tell but i hope you enjoy this in the meantime!

"Oh, God. What the fuck did you do to your hair now?"

"And good morning to you too, Aki. Today you are bitchier than usual. Did the Fox Devil pee in your bed this morning?"

He gives you the finger, then unties your hair just to let out a frustrated grunt two seconds later. Despite what everyone thinks, you and the boy by your side are just best friends. Actually, more like platonic soulmates. Sometimes you wonder where you end and he begins and vice versa.

What led most of them to think so is Aki's antics. He's quite physical with you: kisses on the cheek, hugs, casual ass honking, you name it.

No matter the circumstance, you are always within reach for him to tease.

But this time around he does so much more than that.

"I get it: you wanted a fresh start after what that bastard did to you. You should’ve let me beat some sense into them, as I suggested to you when you were sobbing in my lap, and save your scalp from a mental breakdown at 3 AM in our bathroom. I would've never imagined it was this bad.

Just- do you smell it? Ugh. The chemicals are burning my nose.

I’m about to barf."

"Come on, don’t be such a baby. It’s not that bad."

Aki catches a strand of your hair between his fingers and tugs at it, annoyed. Its white-silvery hue is glossy, and unbeknownst to you both, the texture isn't so frizzy, either. But the stink of bleach is still here, haunting your best friend’s nostrils.

"After the shift you better go home and wash your hair again. I won’t come near you a minute longer if you ignore me."

"Will you stop patronising me if I say yes, you Karen?"

He eyes you, expression blank. He gives nothing away as he deadpans, "Probably."

"Still better than hearing you ramble like a grumpy old man, anyway." you walk past him hiding your smile before he can reply and go in the back, getting ready to start another day.

You both work as bartenders/waiters in a cute cafeteria nearby the college you and him go to. The paycheck is good and combined, you and the boy are able to make ends meet smoothly.

The only downside is the total lack of spare time: the moment your shift ends, Hayakawa has to hurry up and start his. Most of the time, you two have to work side by side during the busiest hours of the day, all due to your boss’ laziness in scheduling decent shifts.

The only moments you can talk a bit without worries are the ones outside the flat, college and in front of the lockers in the back of the cafeteria.

However, that day you feel good.Really good. You haven’t felt that way since your partner — now ex-partner — dumped you right in front of your family’s house three months earlier.

“My family doesn’t think you’re the one for me. You know what they say about those who don’t meet their standards, don't you? And you're so... weird. Yeah, you'll never be good enough for them.

We should stop our relationship before it gets any further.”

The idiot had the audacity to use their own relatives to cover their ass behind such blame excuses to justify cowardice. They didn’t want to commit, you could see that in those eyes you once found difficult to look away from.

When you did, it was too late. Your heart had already been broken.

On top of that, you are going to see them for the rest of the year; they are two years ahead of you and Aki, but they still attend some of your classes, as well. Moreover, you always see each other at the entrance every morning.

It's torture, looking at them living their best life whereas yours is still drowning in nostalgic waters.

Your hand closes around the uniform you have in the locker. The thin fabric of the plain black shirt cracks as you wear it, soon after joined by a tight pair of white jeans.

Then your eyes fixates on the shoes you're supposed to wear and let scoff, "Hell no, I won’t wear these infernal devices today."

The polished high-heels in the cabinet stare right back at you as you finish to dress up, even as you close the locker and head back to the counter. No need for them today.

Aki is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, waiting. The moment you brush past him, his big hand takes one of yours to place them on his heart.

His pretty eyes scanned your figure once more, searching for any sign of distress as he breathes, "Are you really okay?"

Your gaze softened. "I’m more than okay, Aki. Stop worrying about me."

"How can I? It’s what best friends do: looking out for each other."

"And your best friend is telling you that she’s fine." you yank at the ends of his topknot with your free hand and smile, "Besides, today is a new day. From now on, I want to be a better version of myself.

They won’t have anything of mine anymore."

You both walk back but before any of you can do another step, the boy corners your body with his. Your back collides with the cold surface of the counter, yet the warmth in the eyes of your best friend makes up for it. His height engulfs yours by a lot, so it's no big deal for him to tower - no, hover - over you.

He stretches out a hand, fingers lightly grazing your cheeks. "Promise?"

"Yes, I promise. Let's get to work, now."

Your hand covers his for a split second and he finally nods, planting a kiss on your forehead as he lets you circle him to take position by his side.

There is no way he would give up so easily. He's up to something.

You want to investigate some more but it's not the right moment for it. Being it is almost opening time, and there are a lot of people already behind the glassy doors, students, mostly, you decide to postpone. If he's going behind your back-

The doors open right at that moment, and the momentum cuts off your thoughts. For now.

You are smiling a lot that morning and it doesn't go unnoticed.

The rings on your hands don't, either.

Some regular customers even dare to slip their phone numbers in the cash they hand you over to pay, grazing your slender fingers to catch a glimpse of the shiny bands wrapped around them, but you always turn them down with a shy smile.

The stares you can handle, but nothing more.

You make small chats with everyone passing by the register and at some point you must’ve gone to tie your hair into the usual bun because Aki’s slaps on your thigh stops you halfway.

Turning, you look at him, puzzled. "What?"

The boy looks at you up and down twice before replying, "That colour looks gorgeous on you. Keep your hair down."

"You should do the same, Pineapple Head." you reply, genuinely confused because to be honest, he is prettier than you with his hair that way.

The look your best friend gives you is murderous before nodding at the next client who walks to you you. And with that, the conversation hangs over your heads again.

That day, lots of students and teachers come to grab something to eat before rushing back to classes. But what surprises you the most is to see a familiar face among the group who just walked in, settling in a table not far from the bar counter.

Aaand goodbye good vibes.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Aki, don’t." you hiss, hand already reaching for the boy's. His knuckles turn white as his eyes melts your ex's chair, the idiot looking up right then. Seeing you and Aki, however, has them immediately bend their head forward and avoid your gaze. Pathetic.

Already feeling what's about to happen, you grab Aki by his bare arm and hiss, "Don’t do anything stupid."

"I won’t," his blue eyes pierce right through you and clarifies with a short, "Not in public, anyway. The same goes for you.»

"As much as I hate to admit it, they're a client. They must be respected even if they’re in the wrong.

But that won't stop me from being salty."

You leave without looking back, heading towards the rather noisy group. As soon as they see you coming their way, everyone stops whatever they're doing and stare at your silhouette. The one who doesn’t even flinch is the one who should’ve hidden behind the table, on their knees.

Their eyes lock with yours while one of their hands strokes a girl’s thigh right beside them.

So they were already with someone else, uh? Judging by looks alone, she's a far more “normal” fit than you've ever ever been.

Do they really think something like that would hurt you, after everything they said to you?

"Hello, eveyone. Are you ready to order?"

The friends who snap out of their minds first order straightway, while the person you thought you loved till some months before take their time, talking with the short brunette whose hand is now an inch away from their thigh. Then, acting as if you just arrived there, your ex turn to tell you what they both want.

You write it down quickly, adding ‘spit in their hamburger ♡’ right next to the order.

"I see you dyed your hair and got a new tattoo. Seems like I dodged a fucking oddball, after all."

You put down the digital pen and shoot your ex a customer smile. Finally the other shoe has dropped.

"You know what’s funny about oddballs? You never know where they’ll hit next. Next time it might be your face, how about that?"

You feel one of their friends trying to trip you. The reason why they do it? No idea… until you step on the foot that almost have you face-first on the floor, pushing on it with your whole weight.

"Hey, you stepped on my foot!"

You pin the boy next to your ex with your gaze, "I could do so much worse than this, but I won’t. You know why?» you lean closer and sigh. "You’re a client. I can’t do anything tangible now, but wait until my shift is over. I’ll shove my leg so far down your throat you’ll suff-"

"I’m taking it from here.

Go."

Aki’s chest crashing against your back cuts you off. Turning, you see him looking at the group with a customer smile. A real one.

Then his fingers take a hold of the tablet still in your hands with one, smooth move. You go to snap back at him, but you know better than being too petty.

If he hadn’t stepped in, you would’ve ended up picking a fight that would cost you the job and a demerit note.

The implications in his tone snap you out of it. Your eyes set on him as you smile, just as you apply more pressure on the boy's foor.

"Of course. I’ll be at the bar if you need me."

The blonde-haired stranger curses you out but does nothing else to stop you again. You don't look back, not even when you hear the chick next to your ex speak ill of you. It should’ve hurt your feelings, but that girl looks so naive that you actually feel bad for her. She's too caught up in your ex's spell to understand that they are just using her for sex.

What a disappointment your ex turned out to be.

The moment your best friend comes back to the counter, any sense of anger and annoyance has left you.

Clients keep you busy until you manage to push your ex’s presence in the darkest corner of your mind. Saying you are grateful to them is an understatement.

Time goes by pretty quickly and before you know it, it's almost lunch time. Meaning you are about to end your shift.

Despite this, once you have some time to talk, the tall boy next to you turns on his heels so abruptly you swear you hear his bones crack.

Aki is speaking through his teeth when he whispers, "What the hell was that? Are you trying to get fired or what?"

Your hand reaches Aki’s to press it against your chest. "I could never leave you and your pretty face all alone in a place like this, Hayakawa. But that bastard still has the power to push my buttons all at once and I just can’t stand the sight of them. And that poor girl… I feel sorry for her."

"Your ex is not your problem any longer, remember? You finally get to live your life away from that shithead."

All of a sudden, Aki isn't looking at you anymore. His attention shifts on a group of people that is walking in now, and you look at them too from above your shoulder. The five of them are so beautiful that the people still in the cafeteria turn to stare at them.

But most importantly, they are deadly.

You recognise their uniforms, how could you not? Devil Hunters are a big deal, especially around colleges and other crowded places. Most of the devils’ attacks affect those ones, so at least a couple of them are always around to patrol the area and call the police in case of need.

Something in your best friend’s gaze set off all your alarms and you push him away. "You know them."

"Oh, we both do." he deadpans, fingers itching to grab the cigarette pack in his pocket. He still have three hours left before he can go on break, so he can't really sit out this one.

You snap your fingers in front of him to get his attention and when you do, he raises an eyebrow, unfazed. The one who's boiling is you and you alone, and you implode with an esasperate sigh.

"So this is what you’ve been up to, uhm?"

Aki cracks his fingers. "I don’t like the accusations you’re trying to make."

"Oh, bite me. Don’t tell me I wouldn’t notice you looking at the door like a teenager in love waiting for their sweetheart to show up.

Come on, what is it?"

Aki leans against the counter, bringing you closer to him. "If I promise to tell you this, will you do something for me in return?"

Oh-oh. Every time he asks you to do him a favour, you end up tangled in things bigger than you.

As if he reads your mind, Aki rolls his eyes. "Nothing complicated, I promise."

You fold with a scoff, arms crossed on the chest. "Fine. What do you want?"

He tries to fight back a smile. Unusual, for Aki Hayakawa rarely holds back on his happiness. Not anymore.

When he first met you, five years ago, his perception of life turned upside down. Including his view on showing emotions.

"I have this friend… hey, listen to me before saying anything, okay?" his thumb draws little doodles on the counter's space close to you.

"Like I was saying, I have this friend who’s always been kinda into you. I wouldn’t mingle if I wasn’t sure he might be a good influence in your life.

You know how protective I am of you."

This time you're the one to raise an eyebrow, suddenly feeling self-aware. "So you want me to go on a date with him or something?"

His eyes widens in shock. You fear he might have a heart attack if he keeps staring at you like a lunatic on stereoids.

"Woah. You’re the one who suggested it, not me. I was going to ask you if you could do me the courtesy of grabbing a coffee with him, just to chat, but you went all in by yourself. I won’t be the one to change your mind, now."

You say nothing for a while. Rather, you glance at the table the Devil Hunters are at to see what all the fuss is about.

Three girls and two boys are chatting, and the closest to the counter are a boy with sandy hair and a girl with strawberry locks. Her horns look so cute but on a second glance, their pointed edges look very sharp. A Fiend, you correct yourself.

Another young woman with pitch-black locks that descend on her face like silk curtains sits across them, right next to the tallest girl out of the three. She wears her long, blonde hair in a ponytail and out of the bunch, she seems to be the most stoic one. An eye patch covers her right eye, but that doesn't mean she has her guard down.

As for the rest, you can tell they are quite unique: the boy with red hair is stunning, achingly so. He looks like an angel- Wait.

"No-"

Aki nods, suddenly serious. "Yes. They are part of the same division I was in a few years ago. The one you convinced me to step back from when we got into college.

If you look closely, I’m sure you’ll recognise some."

Aside from Chainsaw Man — you got the chills just thinking about his true devil form — the Blood Fiend, Quanxi, the Angel and War Devil there is another person in the group. One you came across many times when you went to Public Safety’s Headquarters to hang out with Aki.

His dark eyes land on you just as you smack away your best friend's hand. By the time you regain your posture and finish staring at Aki, you turn and a scream build up in your throat.

The woman with the eye patch is now sitting at the bar counter, legs crossed and her gorgeous face resting on a hand.

She's fast.

Shitty human reflexes.

Her voice tone is quiet yet adamatine as she says, "Hello there. So you’re the one who convinced Aki to quit Public Safety."

You gulp and wonder if she hears it. Probably yes.

"H-hello, Lady Quanxi. I never thought I’d have the pleasure to make your acquaintance. And well, I wouldn’t say I forced him or something.

I just gave him a little push, that’s all."

She waves a hand in your direction, then looks at the tall boy next to you. "She’s cute, Hayakawa. Too cute for this world, I might say. Are you sure that she is your best friend? You seem too grumpy to have someone this cheerful around that can suck up with your dry sense of humour."

Your best friend exhales sharply, staring back at The First Devil Hunter without blinking. You don't dare to laugh, but a small snicker escapes you nonetheless.

It's as if you are watching an older sister scold her younger brother.

"Of course she is. And she's too cute for you, Quanxi. Hands off her, please."

The woman raises her hands, then returns to the table at human speed. After she does so, your eyes almost escape your skull when Aki pinches you. Out of surprise, you slap him across the face.

"Oh! What the fuck was that for?!"

"You startled me, you idiot. Were you trying to set me up with her? With Quanxi?" you start to sweat profusely. "Man, I don't know if I’m in for that type of thing. I mean, she’s the embodiment of ride or die — literally. I don't think I'm ready for that kind of carousel yet-"

Aki stops your rambling by shaking his head. Then he takes his hand into yours once more and points a finger towards the table.

"Look closer."

Dark, lush hair frame a slim face now turned in your direction, his beauty mark under the lips unforgettable. His eyes, despite being so piercing, carry the same warmth his smile radiates.

Yoshida Hirofumi.

Pretty sure the chemical burning Aki warned you about is eating your brain, you stare at the Devil Hunter in awe. "Nah, that can’t be. I must be dreaming. Pinch me."

Hayakawa does so again. Harder this time.

You punch his arm in retaliation and he simply huffs at your little tantrum. However, he drags you in a bone-crushing hug shortly after. Accepting it amidst laughs, you laugh in the crook of his neck and wait for your nerves to calm on their own.

So the person you had a crush on for the longest time ever feels the same about you. The fear of being rejected by him is what kept you from acting upon your feelings. Rather, you locked them away in a corner of your heart.

After all that time, after every heartbreak you went through, he's still there waiting for you?

An idiot. That's what you are.

Still looking at Yoshida, you dare to smile and your heart is filled with joy when he does the same. You whip your head towards Aki to look at him through the corner of the eye.

"Okay, I’ll go on a date with him. Let’s see how it goes."

The one to take the group's orders and bring them everything is your best friend. You prefer to watch the scene unfolding from afar. Hayakawa stays behind for a while, chatting with your crush.

Right before coming back he leans closer to Yoshida, whispering something along the lines of 'hey man, she wants to go on a date with you or whatever', but the group overhears it all the same and Hell breaks loose.

Not literally, but you fear for the well-being of the cafè for a good second.

Denji and Power are still howling, feet on the table and head thrown back in amusement, when Aki heads back to the counter with a satisfied grin; Quanxi and Yoru looked at one another for a moment, then each of them grab the kids by the legs and they facepalm on the table.

Angel is having none of it, and keep eating his ice cream as if nothing happened.

You and Yoshida seem to have the same thought because when you turn to look at him again, the dark-haired Devil Hunter is doing the same from above his shoulder. His smile reaches his pierced ears and something in your stomach stirs. Probably butterflies. Or hunger.

"He’s literally breaking his neck to get a better view of you. Goddammit, come here. Why am I doing all of this by myself?

Listen: now that we're settled, go and ask him when you two can go on a date."

Your heart drops at your feet. "Uhm excuse me, where you not there talking to him a minute ago? Hell no. You go."

Blood escapes Aki’s body, leaving him staring at you dead in the eye.

He acts as if you just said you killed his cat.

"I wouldn’t go on a date with Yoshida Hirofumi even if he was the last person on Earth. He’s your boo, not mine."

You stomp a foot, pointing a finger at him. "Stop it. I hate when you say “boo”. It's cringe.

Also, you were the one to set me up with him in the first place. Take the fall for it."

If looks could kill, you'd be burning amidst the flames of Hell by now. "No, I won't. And guess what? You're two adults perfectly able of talking to each other but neither of you was bold enough to confess, so I had to step in and set you two up. He never stopped asking about you, even after I left. And you talk in your sleep, don't you?"

His tone is steady, but there is a hint of amusement in his voice when he whispers:

"I’m tired of hearing you calling out his name in the middle of the night while you squeeze a pillow between your thighs. Fuck him and get over with it."

A shocked gasp falls past your lips and when you look back at the table, fearing the Devil Hunter heard you. They haven't, except one.

The man of the hour is gone. Oh, no. No.

NO.

Horrified, your gaze lands in front of you. More specifically, on the chair Quanxi was previosuly sitting on. Now Yoshida is sitting there for God knows how long, and a sly smirk is painted all over his face.

Aki follows your gaze, pinching your arm again. But you have no will or strength left in you to strike back.

Damn it. Your crush had just heard your best friend say out loud you have been dreaming about him for years. Wet dreams, at that.

Every night.

Hirofumi perches himself on the wooden surface, leaning so close to you that breath gets stuck in your throat.

"Have you now? Care to walk me through some of them over a coffee? Or dinner, maybe?"

Actually, you did more acting than talking. In fact, you showed Yoshida pretty soon some of the best bits of your wet dreams with him. Date after date, week after week.

Now six months had gone by since Aki set you two up and that night, right after you came home from a dinner out with the Special Division, you both had gone insane.

It all started as a joke: you under him on the bed, riled up because of all the teasing at the table, with the blue scarf around his neck dangling between your faces with every kiss Yoshida left on your cheeks, your neck.

Then one thing have led to another, and you eventually started the fire with a simple smile. Hirofumi have come to know you pretty well over time.

He was damn sure it wasn’t an innocent one. “Time for another round, isn't it? Come here.”

Yoshida had giggled in your ear and just like that, you relaxed and returned to the present.

His hands graze your trembling ones for a split-second. The soft fabric of the scarf he used to cover your eyes smells like him and you take in the scent as he continues to worship your body, so tensed and ready to snap under his.

Even after you have come three times, once while your lips are wrapped around his cock with a hand shoved in your drenched panties and twice under the relentless attack of his mouth and fingers, sensory overload still hasn't overcome your body. Stamina is one of your strongest suits, and so is Yoshida's.

He wraps a hand around his dick, coating it in your release to pump it two, three times as his words reaches you.

"Think you got another one for me? Uhm?"

"Y-yes."

Your ragged breath fans over his face as he leaned down to kiss you again. His tongue came out to play with yours as you sense the head of his cock breaching past the entrance of your pussy — he is huge. You barely have time to moan and arch against him before Yoshida straightens his back and placs your hands on his waist.

"Hiro', you feel so good- Fuck."»"

His fingernails bury themselves in the tender flesh of your thighs as he bottoms out inside you, cock pulsing and twitching against your walls. Another desperate whimper leave you right after, because he isn't moving.

Is he really throwing a gauntlet? When he's balls-deep inside you?

Fire begins to boil in your veins and it feel amazing. Pouting, you brace yourself on your elbows. Even blindfolded, you can almost see his eyes transfixed on your boobs. But when you pout again, his gaze shifts to your lips.

Yoshida always make sure to reward you when you beg for his cock.

"Please, baby. I can’t take it any longer. Please, move.

I need you." your voice is feeble, tears already pooling in your eyes. You are at your limit.

He tries to control himself, yet another shiver runs across your skin when he suddenly pulls you flush against his chest. With the new position, his cock goes even deeper and you writhe in ectasy. He is dangerously close to hit your cervix.

Again.

"Of course. You asked me so nicely, princess."

His hips start to move against yours slowly and you sigh, relieved.

But now, his pace changes. You should’ve expected it, but nonetheless you find yourself resting your forehead on his collarbone as he fucks you stupid.

The bed creaked under his movements and Yoshida urges you to lay on your back once more; when you comply, he slips out of your pussy just to slam back in. His eyes fall onto your face.

"Come on. Cum for me one last time."

You let yourself go with a strangled moan, breathing heavily against Yoshida as he draws a fourth orgasm out of you, fucking you through it as his own has him curse under his breath.

You milk him dry, but he still thrusted a few times more to pump his cum back into you. Only when you twitch in overstimulation does he stop and as soon as the softness of his scarf leave your eyes, the dim light shed by the moonlight help you see Hirofumi’s proud grin.

"You did so well." he whispers in the dark, caressing your hair as you both calm down. His heartbeat follows yours for a while but once you are stable enough to speak again, your fingernails trace his cheekbones and he tilts his head.

"Box checked for 'Wet dream n° 52'. You're even crazier than me for following through with them." you chuckle.

"Oh, shush. How many are there again?"

"Roughly around a hundred but who's counting?"

His gaze darkens but doesn't move a muscle. Tonight, you've done enough exercise for a week.

"Poor Aki. He’s not going to be happy about it."

"He’s a big boy, he’ll manage. It’s not like we never had sex while he’s in another room, remember?"

His hips snap against yours, teasing you, and a whimper builds up in your lower abdomen. "Yoshida."

He whispers against your lips, unbothered, "I didn't do it."

"I did."

You try to scream, you really do, but your partner is holding you so tightly against him that you eventually muster up enough courage to train your attention towards the place where the voice came from. To your shock, it did come from Yoshida.

No, from behind him.

And a gush of lust escapes down your thighs, excitement dripping down the already ruined sheets.

It's really happening.

All you do is watch and whimper in anticipation as a tentacle climbs up your leg, its head reaching the strings of your and Yoshida’s mixed releases. Hesitating at first, the tentacle then lapped up the juices and poked at your clit. Your hips buck into its touch and after you do, it vanishes again.

It only lasted a moment but it left you craving for more and Hirofumi's lust-blown gaze shows he has enjoyed it, too.

"Well, it looks like the Octopus Devil likes you enough to come out and play."

"I figured. Let it be from now on. I want to try something out."

The dark-haired boy’s grin now reflects yours. "Is this a spoiler for the next wet dream we're going to reenact?"

You kiss his beauty mark, beaming with mischief. "Oh, yes. Wet dream n° 53: 'Paint it, black'.

Fitting, right?"

#voice of cassandra #yoshida smut #yoshida x reader #yoshida x you #csm smut #csm x reader #csm x you #chainsaw man smut

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scribblestatic · 8 days

Text

I hope y'all had a good 4/20. Anyway, here's more Sheepzun.

---

Finding his way out of the caves was much easier than going in. The flow of qi seemed easier for him to discern, and his senses were stronger. How curious! He was sure he'd be able to sense predators much easier now.

He cloaked himself in his qi and snuck out the caves, ensuring no one was looking at or for him. This time around, it seemed he had enough qi to do so easier than before, not feeling any pull or strain on his meridians.

He was a right chuffed lad, all things considered!

Shen Yuan made his way back to Qing Jing Peak without much of an issue. Disciples didn't seem to sense his hiding. Those with stronger cultivation did seem to look around, a tad unsettled if anything, but overall, none of them saw through his illusion.

It also helped that he was a prey animal who preferred to not leave things up to risk or chance when being careful was a perfectly reasonable option.

As he travelled, he noticed that the season seemed a little different. A tad on the warmer side than he last remembered. He had entered a few days after spring began, and the flowers he remembered were supposed to bloom seemed to already be at the end of its blooming cycle...

Was it the end of spring? Goodness, time flew!!

Thankfully, not an excessive amount of time passed since, upon making his way out of the forest near the woodshed, Luo Binghe didn't look too much taller. Yes, at the very least, only a few days or weeks had passed.

Hearing Shen Yuan's purposeful rustling, Luo Binghe's slightly pointy ears almost seemed to twitch. Then, he turned around quickly, eyes wide and swiftly becoming watery with unshed tears.

"Shizun!!"

Shen Yuan huffed, amused as the boy, sticky as ever, ran up to him and immediately hugged him around the neck.

"Shizun! Shizun, you came back! Shizun!!"

'Who do you keep calling out for, ah? I'm right here,' Shen Yuan thought.

Luo Binghe went still.

"...Shizun?"

'Yes?'

The boy suddenly let go of him and leaned back, staring right into his eyes. Then, slowly, like the flowers he missed bloom at the start of spring, Luo Binghe's smile spread across his face in a vibrant flourish.

"Shizun!! Shizun, you can talk now?!"

Shen Yuan paused, blinking.

'...You can hear what this one is...saying.'

"Yes, I can! I can finally understand you, Shizun! Has my cultivation gotten better? Is... Is this because of what you taught me?"

I don't know, what the heck?! This is scary!!

So, if he was actually thinking as though he was speaking to Luo Binghe, then the boy would actually hear it? After all, he wasn't responding to his thoughts now. Was this because he taught a spirit creature's Dao to a human that he became Dr. Dolittle? That's an entire genre change!

...Whatever that was supposed to mean! Who even was Dr. Dolittle?!

'...Indeed, it seems likely. However, this one admits that this is the first time he's taught this Dao to a human,' Shen Yuan replies, his mind in utter disarray and panic. 'As much as you are a student, this ram is still learning himself.'

There's no precedent for this! I'm sorry, Binghe! This ram is only about a year old!

Luo Binghe looked as though the meaning of the Dao was explained to him in elementary terms, as though he made a huge mental breakthrough with his words alone.

"I see... Thanking Shizun for his knowledge and education all this time!"

He bowed so respectfully, Shen Yuan immediately felt like a terrible saber-toothed wolf dressed up like a newly born spirit lamb to prey on the little human's trust.

But, well, he was at least somewhat honest just now. He really was also a student in all of this.

'This ram thanks you as well. Even through our language barrier, you've been an exemplary student. Now that we can understand each other more freely, we can further improve your cultivation.'

"Yes, Shizun! I'm looking forward to it!"

Shit.

[More under the cut, this one just got kinda long]

----

Okay, so, it wasn't all that bad.

One, it really was much easier to speak with Bing-lamb, and the boy seemed to flourish further under his his verbal guidance. He didn't really have to say much, though. Whatever Luo Binghe lacked in prowess, he was steadily making up for it in motivation.

All Shen Yuan had to do was correct him a little here and there based on whatever kind of strange animal instinct he had that said,

'This stance is a little off. Keep you knees elastic. Firm, but ready.'

'You must connect with your surroundings and hone to your senses. Humans, as predators, rely strongly on their eyes. But you must learn to use your nose, ears, and touch as well.'

"What about taste, Shizun?"

'There are some things a mouth shouldn't touch. We can build up to that as you learn more.'

Though, perhaps he asked such questions because Shen Yuan occasionally found himself chewing on Luo Binghe's clothes. It was more affectionate grooming for the boy than anything, honestly. But he was also a prey creature rather than a human, so it could be excused as such.

Two, after Luo Binghe's lessons with the human instructors, Luo Binghe would sometimes ask him for questions and clarification as he did the pile of chores constantly assigned to him. What was with all these duties, anyway? Weren't all of the disciples supposed to do these things? They were working too hard on purpose, but why?

Anyway, despite not being a human, it turned out Shen Yuan could read quite well. He wasn't sure where he'd learned such a skill, but it was nice to see it be useful. So, because Luo Binghe's questions never got answered in class, as the boy's Shizun, he took it upon himself to do his best to help.

It meant he sometimes had to get a bit creative with how he explained things, but he was doing well enough, it seemed.

Of course, there were limits to what he could do.

As a ram, teaching the four arts was mostly out of the question. Give him some paints and he could maybe bang something out on a canvas, but he had no guarantee it would look like anything useful or recognizable. Same for a guqin or calligraphy.

Go...well, if the pieces and board were big enough, maybe. But anyway, he had his limitations. Not that Luo Binghe seemed to see any of them. With the way Shen Yuan loafed and Luo Binghe sat in front of him, his workbook open, one would think he'd hung the moon.

It was...admittedly very nice to be so appreciated.

Also, getting petted. He'd stopped for a bit after they first spoke, but Luo Binghe did it by accident again later. When Shen Yuan stayed quiet without scolding the action and slightly shifting his head closer, well, he got the picture.

And snacks. Luo Binghe didn't have access to a full kitchen for reasons he didn't understand, but Shen Yuan just knew. The day he had kitchen privileges, it was over for Qing Jing Peak. They'd become Qing Jing Restaurant or something.

Although he still had to be careful, he found he was actually starting to enjoy living the way he was now. He didn't feel the need to look over his shoulder as often, Prey and predator, bridging the gap, huh? What a lovely story.

As Luo Binghe improved, keeping his sheep shizun a secret, several more months passed. Spring turned into summer, into fall, into winter, into spring, into the touches of summer heat once more.

Over that year, Luo Binghe grew taller and broader. His shoulders were starting to fill out, his hands and feet better sized for his body. From his experience working with his shizun's hair-like wool, he learned how to take care of his own hair better, the curls becoming shinier and tamable, no longer as difficult to pull into a ponytail. He also learned all the little nooks and crannies of Qing Jing Peak after going foraging with his shizun, and the mountain climbing and hunting he'd done for himself.

He'd thought his shizun would be against him hunting the birds and other creatures on and around the peak, but though he never partook himself, he was ambivalent.

'You are human. Even sheep eat meat when necessary. For you, it's even more so. This ram shan't fault his student for doing the best for himself.'

And so, with his own hunting skills built up, despite still living and sleeping in the wood shed and lacking some of the more artistic prowess of his sect siblings, he's grown considerably in strength, speed, and build. As he sometimes heard his shizun murmur, 'Born to Bai Zhan, raised to Qing Jing, manages both.'

Meanwhile, Shizun himself...

Luo Binghe had visited Xin Ya Peak before, alongside some of his sect siblings. He'd seen what spirit sheep normally looked like--fluffy, with slightly curved horns, and a nice sheen to their wool. Not particularly tall--mostly reaching around their knees or thighs.

Shizun, however, drew much more regal of a figure. His wool was less fluffy but somehow even softer. He was taller, too, reaching up to the bottom of Luo Binghe's chest. His horns had grown out considerably, to the point they were curling outward. Unlike his farmed comrades, Shizun was exceptionally fastidious. Though, it likely helped he was not locked into a barn or kept around mud. So, he was not only impeccably clean, but he kept a long, undocked tail that swayed behind him with his steps.

He kept his wool a beautiful shade of ivory white. The only discolorations were the slightly green tones that occasionally hung onto his stomach and legs from loafing on the grasses around the bamboo forest and the ever-present blood red huadian on his forehead. Moreover, after Shizun had returned from wherever he'd gone, his eyes had changed. Irises that were once a striking brown had become a soothing blue-green color, much like the peak colors of Qing Jing.

Perhaps spirit animals needed less effort to attain godhood. Luo Binghe could believe it. After all, his shizun appeared like a god nowadays.

'Binghe' he'd hear, his soft and elegant voice calling out to him in the dewy mornings.

He would look up to see his shizun returning from some place he'd found his wild breakfast, leaving him to sleep longer because, as the ram said, he was a growing boy and needed it more.

The sun would peek out at just the right time to shine on his arrival, making him look ethereal, even if he was holding moss in his mouth.

'Have you eaten yet? If not, add this to your food today. It has absorbed quite a bit of yin qi. Considering your yang constitution, it will help promote more internal balance.'

Shizun places the stringy, thick moss in Luo Binghe's waiting hands.

'This is called Qiyan Root, despite not being a root at all. Strain and boil it twice for the best effect. You can also dry some of it for medicinal use. It should taste quite nice in an herbal tea.'

His shizun hummed in consideration as he tilted his head, long white lashes against the fur of his cheeks.

Luo Binghe couldn't help but wonder what his shizun would look like as a human. He was quite the handsome animal, much like one would compliment a horse for its strong physique and beautiful sheen. Surely he'd be a handsome human as well.

Though, wondering such a thing would have to wait. It was time for morning chores, then his lessons could begin in earnest.

It was after one such set of lessons with his other teachers, when he was chopping wood with his shizun at his side that the ram suddenly raised his head with a frown.

"Shizun?"

'...The air feels different. What do you sense?'

Having learned his cultivation mostly from a spirit animal rather than a human, Luo Binghe honed his senses and listened. Indeed, the peak seemed quiet. Too quiet, however.

"Something's not right... Shizun, I'll be back."

'Be careful, Binghe.'

The boy nodded in return before he ran off, Shen Yuan staying behind as he tried to better understand what this energy fluctuation actually was.

Eventually, curiosity and concern won out over wariness, and he concealed himself as he headed toward the rainbow bridges separating Qing Jing from the other peaks.

There, he found several demons cracking away at the bridge between Qing Jing and Qiong Ding. Several were smaller demons with tiny horns and large machetes in their spindly hands. They were accompanied by a larger, more boubous demon in a loincloth, using an axe to slice and wear away at the energies keeping the rainbow bridge connected.

A siege? But this is Cang Qiong, one of the most powerful sects! How could these demons have the gall?!

Shen Yuan wasn't aware of the politics that came with running a peak, so, of course, he was unaware of the peak lord's absence. Several lords were away--more than honestly permissible--leaving the little lamb-like disciples without their guard dogs. Though, judging from the coordinated actions of the demons, the little troupe he was looking at was the least of his worries.

Binghe!!

If he was running this way, then surely he would've encountered the demons! But he could smell no blood or anything from his student. Perhaps he already passed through before they arrived. After all, behind the troupe, he could see several groups of demons destroying the bridges and leaving the peaks isolated...

No, not all the peaks. Qiong Ding.

Something about this scenario struck him as...oddly familiar.

But he shoved that thought aside. Now wasn't the time for excessive questioning! His student was in danger!

As much as he liked to believe he prepared Luo Binghe for combat in some meaningful way, he would never overestimate his teaching abilities. He's a ram for fucks sake, how could he be much better than human teachers and their opposable thumbs?!

Not letting up his concealing qi, he began running across the bridge, heading straight for the small crowd of demons.

Though they couldn't see him, his weight and trotting seemed to alert them as they turned his way. Cruel smirks spread on the imps' faces as they raised their weapons and prepared to strike.

Deciding not to conceal himself anymore, he instead focused his qi on his attack, suddenly appearing before them. For some reason, they seemed surprised despite already preparing to attack him.

His qi-filled horns collided with one of their machetes, causing it to crack and shatter. Milliseconds later, the same cracking and shattering came from the imp's ribs.

Gritting his teeth, he flung his head to the right, throwing several of the imps off the cracking bridge. But he still had some momentum and wasn't done yet.

Facing the bulbous demon and its large axe, he charged up as much as he could, enough that his horns began to glow dimly.

The demon bellowed as it swung the axe, intending to split his skull. But Shen Yuan was faster.

Putting more force in his back legs, he jumped forward, tucking his front legs close to his body. His curved horns rammed against the demon's chest, the bones giving way under it. It let out a choke, then it spit up blood as the wind moved around them.

When the demon fell back, Shen Yuan blinked, realizing he was going butt up.

With a surprised bleat, his legs stretched out as the momentum had him flopping on his back above the demon's head. At least it was on solid ground! Dirt, even!

He wiggled, then quickly got himself up, shaking the dust off his head. Reorienting himself, he realized he was on Qiong Ding Peak. Huh... He didn't think the demon was so close to the land there, but maybe he miscalculated.

Anyway, Binghe!

Worried about his student, he quickly ran off to find where he was, concealing himself behind a cloak of qi once more.

Of course, Shen Yuan missed several things.

For one, the imps and demons had not noticed him at all. What they had noticed were several Qing Jing disciples arriving with their swords drawn.

Secondly, the machetes and axes the demons held were not supposed to crack so easily to a ram's horns. They were made with reinforced metals to be sturdy. A regular spirit sheep would've long lost its horns and skull to them.

Thirdly, the largest demon on the bridge had indeed been standing further away from Qiong Ding Peak, and Shen Yuan hadn't miscalculated. He just didn't realize that his body, weighing over 160 kg (352.7 lbs) plus the force of his qi-powered forward thrust was, even by physics standards, enough to blow a large demon backwards by several meters and shatter their collarbone on impact.

He'd turned his body into a literal battering ram.

Lastly, the Qing Jing disciples, whom the demons actually saw and prepared to fight, were able to witness the entire event, and were now staring, wide-eyed, at the large, mystical, disappearing sheep.

...But those were concerns for the future Shen Yuan.

#sheepzun au #svsss #svsss au #static drabbles #au post 4 #static writes #shen yuan does a whoops #he's got binghe on the brain he can't help it

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