#being set on dean) so right now he just really misses his friend. and he wishes that he didn't fail so many of his friends and family.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 18 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You missed the quality time you'd been spending with your husband as soon as it started to slip away. You were busy with work, and Bradley was being called upon again, just like he always was. But before he prepares to leave, your curiosity gets the best of you.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, oral, smut, talking about trying for a baby

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

As May became June, the temperatures got hotter and the beaches got more crowded, and your evening walks with Tramp became a little less frequent as a result. You also felt like your time with Bradley was starting to become a little more sporadic. Work and other obligations were starting to break into the bubble that the two of you had managed to re-form, and you kind of missed how cozy you'd been.

"I'll be home late on Tuesday, Roo. I have a meeting with Bickel."

"Mav asked me to teach on Thursday, so don't wait for me if you're hungry for dinner."

By the time you got to Friday night, you ended up at the Hard Deck, because everyone kept bugging you to go. And you knew that Bradley was proud of your hard work and the fact that your boss seemed to be lining you up to take over after his eventual retirement. And it wasn't like you weren't absolutely thrilled that Top Gun was entrusting Bradley with teaching their incoming students with more frequency. But you were just craving more of the intimate hours you got used to at home. With just Bradley and a bath with champagne followed by him reading from his notebooks. 

"You want another beer?" Bradley asked you next to the noisy pool table as you shook your head. Nat had already given you two, and you just wanted to go home already. You tried to socialize with everyone a little bit more. Fanboy was about to leave for a long deployment, so you made sure you gave him an extra hug or two. And then Payback showed up with the girl he was dating, so you chatted with her for a little bit. But after another hour, you were feeling antsy. 

Any day now, you were certain Bradley would be telling you he had been chosen for the top secret special detachment. And in just a few more days, he would be on base in Lemoore until the judge made a decision regarding Admiral Dean and Slayer. And there was nothing you could do about either of those things. 

You were also pretty sure you were almost done ovulating right now in spite of your best efforts to try not to think about it. And the past few days had been a bust with how busy the two of you were. The last thing you wanted to do was push Bradley to have sex when one or both of you were tired or clearly not in the mood for it. But there was a tiny bit of doubt that was creeping in, making you feel like this was a wasted month. But on the other hand, just looking at him right now was making you warm. You knew it was probably just your hormones, but you wanted him and his attention all to yourself.

Immediately you set your empty beer bottle down and wrapped your arms around your husband as he talked to his best friend. He rubbed your back as you pressed your cheek to his chest, already feeling a little better. You didn't care if Nat heard you; she was already Bradley's sounding board for so many things. So you smiled at her and then looked up at him as he paused with his beer most of the way to his mouth. 

"Bradley," you said, your voice a little needy even to your own ears. "I love you, and it's been a really long week, and I just kind of miss when we were spending so much time together. Can we go home now and relax?"

Bradley handed Nat his half empty beer and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Can we finish talking about this later?"

"Absolutely," Nat replied with a smirk. "Goodnight, you two."

Then he laced his fingers with yours and led you out of the bar and onto the deck where he immediately picked you up for a piggy back ride. "Why didn't you say something sooner? I thought you wanted to come out and see Fanboy and do the whole Hard Deck thing tonight."

"I kind of did," you said, kissing his ear as he carried you to the Bronco. "But it got old fast compared to being at home with you. It's just been a long week, and I missed you. And I know you'll be in Lemoore in a few days, and then the special detachment is coming up, and-"

"Hey," Bradley said firmly as he set you down next to the Bronco. "I'm right here, and I'm more than happy to take you home and stay there for the rest of the weekend. I'd love to do that, in fact."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. "Maybe you can call Nat tomorrow? And finish your conversation with her then?"

"Maybe," he replied. "Or maybe I'll be too busy with my wife. Either way, it works for me."

He buckled you in with another kiss before he climbed in and zipped the short distance back home. Then you made a sandwich for a late night snack and cut it in half to share with him. He lifted you up onto the counter and finished his in three bites, and you felt so much better being at home alone with him. You finally felt like you could focus. 

"Are you still hungry?" you asked while he downed a glass of water and watched you finish eating. 

"Not for a sandwich, Sweetheart." His voice was raspy, and the fine hairs on your neck and arms were standing on end as he took a step closer. 

"Oh," you whispered as he leaned against the counter with his hands on either side of your thighs. You ate the last few bites slowly before you asked, "Are you going to tell me what you're hungry for? Maybe it's something I could get ready for you?"

He groaned softly as he kissed the side of your neck and whispered, "I wanna eat your pussy, Baby Girl. Will you let me?"

An hour ago, you had been feeling overstimulated and annoyed. Now you were unbuttoning your shorts and whining your husband's name. Next time you wouldn't wait so long to tell him you just needed a few minutes alone with him so you could feel better. 

"I'll take that as a yes," Bradley said as he sank down to his knees in front of you and helped you out of your shorts and underwear. He spread your legs wide and ran his index finger back and forth across your clit. "Let me enjoy this perfect pussy, and then I'll read to you from my notebook in bed."

He peppered a few kisses on your thigh, then his mouth was all over you. Your fingers gripped his hair as you tried to stay upright while he buried his face in you. "Roo," you gasped as his mustache hit just the right spot. You rocked gently against his face as he licked long stripes up and down before letting his pretty lips settle on your clit. He knew exactly how to get you off, but right now, he was taking his time. 

"Fucking gorgeous," he whispered, looking up at you and smiling before kissing you everywhere. He fucked you expertly with his tongue, and you were afraid you were pulling his hair too hard, but he didn't stop. 

Soft, needy sounds gave way to you begging him to let you come. "Please, Daddy!" 

He grunted and fucked you with two fingers while he sucked on you in a gentle, steady rhythm. The pressure was just right. His rough mustache was perfect. You came, tugging on his hair until he was standing up. His cheeks were rosy, and his pupils were blown wide, and his face was wet from a mix of your pussy and his saliva. 

He was the most handsome thing that ever existed, and now he was kissing your lips with that mouth that tasted like you. This time you were a little gentler as you combed your fingers through his hair while he rutted against you. 

"You just needed a night in with your Daddy. You feel better now?"

"I really did need you," you promised. Then you softly asked him, "Do you want to fuck me?"

He was panting slightly as he muttered, "Of course I do. You're my perfect wife."

You undid his pants and pushed them down a few inches, and he was right at your entrance, ready to go. But he was hesitating, his cheeks growing a shade darker as he swallowed hard. "I'm not gonna last."

He was just that turned on from going down on you. "I don't care," you promised him. You were so relaxed and sated, you kind of felt like you could melt into a puddle on the kitchen island. And then he was thrusting inside you, his hips rolling and pushing your thighs wider. 

He wrapped his hands around your waist and shook his head, and soon he was muttering that he was about to finish. So you leaned back on your elbows and planted your feet on the edge of the counter and said, "I was a good girl all week. Give me a cream pie?"

Your husband stroked your rooster tattoo with his right thumb as he fucked you harder until you were struggling to keep your feet planted in place. "Oh, shit," he growled when he came. Once his movements had stilled, he withdrew from you and smiled. "That's a beautiful cream pie, if I do say so myself. We do some of our best work in the kitchen." 

You were both giggly and a little bit messy as Bradley carried you to bed. When he flipped to a random page in the notebook, you curled up against him. "What am I supposed to do when you're gone again? We have no idea how long you'll be in Lemoore. And who knows about the special mission either."

He sighed and kissed your forehead. "As far as I'm concerned, Lemoore should be cut and dry. I'll drive up with Nat and Bob, and we'll all read our statements. And hopefully that's it."

"And hopefully Dean and Slayer get fucking reprimanded to the letter of the law," you added.

"Well, that too," he said with a laugh. "But I'll be back home quickly, and we don't even know if I'll get selected for the detachment, so let's not worry about that yet." Then he cleared his throat and started to read from his notebook.

"I can't believe how much time I wasted with other women. The few minutes of satisfaction did not outweigh the fact that I didn't really want to get to know them at all. And maybe even worse, the fact that I could tell they thought I was only good for one thing. The more I think about it, maybe I really only was good for one thing."

You cut him off with a kiss and said, "I don't really like this page. I don't like it when you're hard on yourself."

Bradley looked at you with soft eyes and smiled. "Want me to read something else?"

You wrapped your arms around him a little tighter, but you said, "No. Finish this one."

He cleared his throat again and continued. 

"At the time, I guess I thought I was living in the moment, and that I'd have these experiences to look back on someday when I was older. But now I don't like thinking about it, because the main thing I remember is that I was selling myself short in every way. What's the point in having meaningless sex over and over again when what you're actually craving is attention and affection? What's the point in kicking someone out of your bed after an hour when your skin starts to crawl, when all you really want is to find the right person to keep with you all night long?

I don't understand how my wife is so gracious. I really don't get the way she can look at me and see something worth her precious time. But I'm so thankful she does."

You snuggled against him quietly, your thoughts swirling. "Roo? I don't understand why you didn't just try to take me home with you after we met."

Bradley snorted and chuckled as he set the notebook aside. "You mean when I couldn't stop staring at you when we were on base working together? Or you mean the night when we first talked at the Hard Deck?"

You closed your eyes and considered the difference. Jake had asked you out during work hours two days after you met him, but you were already distracted by Bradley at that point. And maybe you'd have let Bradley take you home from the bar, but then you probably would have never gone on a real date with him. 

"I think I would have gone home with you from the bar," you said softly. "If you'd asked."

Bradley's fingers dug into your body as he said, "Then you would have thought I was a joke just like every other woman. And maybe that's why I didn't try my shitty pickup lines or any of my moves on you. Yeah, you and I were flirting, but everything I did and said to you was sincere, because I could tell I was getting your genuine undivided attention. You weren't only looking at me like I could take care of you physically for an hour.  And that was a very rare thing."

"Oh," you sighed, crawling fully on top of him now. You smiled and kissed him until the concerned crease in his forehead smoothed out. "You always make me feel like you knew we would get married someday as soon as you looked at me."

Bradley rubbed his hands up under your shirt. "I think I subconsciously hoped so, Sweetheart. But I had to play the limited cards in my hand just right to even stand a chance."

You were starting to get sleepy now, and his rough hands felt so good everywhere. "What would you have said to me if you just wanted to hookup?" you asked, laughing as he groaned. 

"You don't want to know, Sweetheart. You would have probably laughed in my face and walked away, because I was using the same dumb tactics since I was twenty four."

You kissed his sternum as your mind once again swirled with information. "This is all very intriguing," you murmured as you started to doze.

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

Bradley was waiting on the porch with you after work on Monday evening, his arms wrapped around you as you kissed him. It was a five hour drive up to Lemoore, and Nat was on her way to pick him up. 

"Call or text me when you get there," you said between kisses as your fingers teased and tugged at his hair. "Even if it's late."

"I will," he promised, kind of no longer content to just be making out with you. There wasn't enough time for anything else, even though you were moaning softly into his mouth and letting your hands explore the front of his body now. "Baby Girl," he warned. The last thing he wanted was an erection when he had to leave you in the next few minutes. 

But you just kissed him harder and said, "I love you," and now Bradley was thinking about retiring and spending every night with you for the rest of his life. 

"Fuck," he grunted when he heard Nat's SUV. When he opened his eyes, she was careening into the driveway behind your shitty little car. His best friend was such a bad driver, he wasn't exactly sure why he and Bob agreed to put her behind the wheel today, but he certainly wouldn't mind if Nat totaled your car right now. She came to a screeching halt mere inches from your bumper. At least that disappointment was enough to stave off his boner. 

You walked Bradley to the driveway, and Bob put the passenger side window down so you could chat with them while Bradley put his garment bag in the trunk along with your small overnight bag he was using. If he wasn't back by Wednesday night, he was going to be so pissed off. 

"I made you guys cookies and some blueberry muffins," you told Bob, handing two containers over. Bradley snuck up behind you and pressed himself against your rear end as you tried to have a normal conversation with his friends. You ended up just saying good luck before turning to face him. "You're obnoxious," you whispered. 

"I know. It's just because I love you so much," he replied with a smirk, earning another heated kiss before you pushed him toward the back door. "I'll let you know when we get there."

Bradley had to push snack wrappers and other assorted trash onto the floor with a grimace so he could buckle his seat belt. Nat turned to look at him. "You and your wife are so gross," she said with a laugh.

"Not as gross as your car. Hey, any chance you can put it in drive instead of reverse and then floor the accelerator?" he asked, only half kidding as he looked at your car.

"No," Nat replied as she backed out. "She'd never forgive me."

Then the three of them waved to you, and they were off. Bradley tried to have a muffin without making a mess of the crumbs, but he watched as Nat just brushed them onto the floor while she drove and ate. "You guys think anything will even happen to Dean?" she asked with her mouth full. 

"If everything is good and just in the world, then yes," Bob said in an even tone. 

"I fucking hope so," Bradley added. "If for no other reason than the fact that they are making us go up to Lemoore."

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

On Tuesday, the courtroom was packed with people who were there to make statements against Admiral Dean. There were so many people in fact, that Bradley was surprised this man had been allowed to fuck up this many missions for his own agenda before he ended up in front of a judge in a military courtroom. The benches of witnesses were jammed as Bradley squeezed in next to Nat, and the room was so warm, he didn't know how he'd manage all day in his dress blues. 

"Look at everyone," she whispered as she tugged at her collar. "We'll be here all week."

Bradley had to listen to the two lawyers argue for a bit, but once things started rolling, he was starting to get a solid picture of what was going on here. Admiral Dean moved from the Atlantic Fleet to the Pacific Fleet with a small reprimand after showing clear favoritism to the pilots out of Naval Air Station Key West. He'd cost an aviator her life among a laundry list of other fucked up things, a fact that made Bradley's somach turn. He nudged Nat's leg with his, thankful his friend was still here even though she looked like she was half asleep. 

But once Dean had been placed in Lemoore, things somehow got even worse. Bradley listened to a statement from a pilot who felt like he had been forced into early retirement by Dean. Then there was a weapons systems officer who said she'd been passed over for promotions by Dean because she tried to call him out on his behavior. 

When he, Bob and Nat were called up with the others who had been in the air with Slayer back in April, Bradley had to stand there and feel the glare from two sets of eyes burning into him as he gave his honest testimony of the events of that day. He didn't hold back. He talked about the fact that he had been named the spare when he would have never gone off course like Slayer did. He made sure to make his point when he said everyone in the air was at risk simply because Slayer had been selected for the mission over him. And he ended things by pointing out that by the time he got to the scene of the dogfighting, some of the others were already nearly out of ammunition and fuel. 

He made eye contact with Dean and then Slayer once he was finished, and then Bob was called up. And then Nat was called up. And then all of the others as well. The details that were being recounted could all be pieced together to give an honest picture of what happened that day. Dean should have been squirming in his seat, and Bradley was delighted to see that he was as the day wore on and on. 

Bradley's stomach was growling loudly, and he was annoyed when the judge said, "Let's all reconvene tomorrow morning for final statements and a decision. Everyone is dismissed for now."

"We have to stay another night?" Nat whined, yanking at her tie on the way out of the courtroom. "Just strip the asshole of his rank right now."

Bradley tended to agree with her. What was the sense in drawing this out any longer? He could have been on his way home to you, but instead he was picking up takeout for dinner and walking it back to his tiny hotel room across the street from the barracks on base. He inhaled his dinner while he texted you some updates, and just when he was hoping to call and maybe have some filthy phone sex, he got a call from someone else. 

He sighed and answered. "Hey, Mav. What's up?"

"You're still in Lemoore?" 

"Yeah. Until at least tomorrow," Bradley grunted. 

Mav paused for a beat. "I wanted to tell you in person, but tomorrow night won't give you as much time to prepare. You've been selected. For the special detachment. You'll have to fly out of Miramar by Comanche on Monday morning."

Bradley's heart was pounding with anticipation and nerves. "Where am I going?"

"That's all the information I have. The clearances for this thing are tight to say the least. When you get back down here, you'll need to talk to Admiral Simpson and Admiral Bates immediately."

"Fuck," Bradley whispered. "Thanks for the call."

He sat in silence for a few minutes, wondering if he should call and tell you right now or wait until he got home. He collapsed back on the bed, knowing this was the kind of conversation he'd rather have with you face to face, but it would be much worse if you thought he was trying to hide anything from you. He reached for his phone. 

After one ring, he heard your voice. "Roo." You sounded so sweet, he could picture the way you must have been curled up in bed reading by now. "Are you alone?"

"Yeah," he grunted, rubbing his face with one hand. 

Your soft laughter made him want to touch himself as you said, "Can we talk about how much I want to suck your cock right now?"

"Fuck. Baby Girl. Wait."

Your voice took on a different tone entirely. "What's wrong?"

"Maverick just called me. I'm going on the special detachment. I leave Monday." When you asked him for details, he had none to give you. And when you asked him if he was happy, he didn't really know how to respond. "I think... relieved is the right word for how I'm feeling. I don't want to leave you again, but I do feel like this is something I needed."

And then you told him that you were proud of him.

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

You had a missed call from Bradley plus a new text message when you looked at your phone the following afternoon, but you couldn't even call him back. You were sitting between Cat and Commander Bickel for a video conference with a group in Annapolis. Video conferences were the fucking worst invention. You didn't want to have to look at that bald guy in Maryland picking his nose on a huge screen. And you certainly didn't want to have to listen to this other idiot talk about things that had nothing to do with your lab for hours on end. 

The only good part was the catered lunch, but even that prevented you from calling Bradley back. You looked at the most recent text he sent you saying Dean and Slayer had been sentenced and that he was on his way home. You sent him back a thumbs up. The details would have to wait until later. 

"Come here," Cat said, giving you a look as she jerked her head to the side.

"What?" you asked as you tried to eat your sandwich before the conference started back up for the afternoon. You had been alternating who you ate lunch with when you made it to the cafeteria, and you'd also been trying to give her and Jake plenty of time together this week without being the third wheel. 

"I'm not worried exactly, but... Jake has a lot of women texting his phone," she said bluntly. "Should I be worried?"

You were kind of stunned, not that you really paid much attention to what he used his phone for. "He has other women texting him?" 

Cat nodded, and you thought it wasn't fair that someone that beautiful should look so insecure. "Most of the messages are from phone numbers he hasn't saved in his contacts. And I didn't go snooping, but he's not trying to hide it. He just leaves his phone out, and then I see them."

You felt a little sick. "What are they saying to him?"

"Hey Jake, it's Brittany, haven't seen you at the bar. Or Jake, call me if you want to come over. Or my personal favorite, Wanna come over and fuck?"

"No," you gasped. "Oh my god, Cat. There's no way he's hooking up with anyone else. It's probably just some residuals."

She shrugged and picked at her own sandwich. "Well it's a lot for me. And this is kind of the reason why I didn't want to get involved months ago," she whispered, looking sheepish. 

"I'll talk to him."

"No." She shook her head. "Then he'll know I told you, and I don't want to make him mad at me."

"He won't get mad at you, Cat." You wanted to be reassuring, because you really were sure he wasn't sleeping around. "Is he being sweet to you? And Jeremiah?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitation. She closed her eyes and whispered, "We slept together for the first time last weekend. It was... it was so good. And he's great with Jer. Like a natural." When she opened her dark eyes again she looked less calm. "I'll talk to him myself."

Then Bickel called everyone back to their seats. "The conference is picking up again," he said in such a monotone voice, you loved him even more for hating this meeting. "Could have been an email," he muttered, and everyone from your lab erupted into laughter as you took your seats. 

You used the minute of confusion while everyone moved around the conference table to text Jake instead of Bradley. 

I sincerely hope you have your text messages under control. 

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

Bradley had already been home for a few minutes when you ran in after work. "Well? What happened?" you asked while you hopped around inside the front door as you removed your boots one at a time.

He was stretched out on the couch staring at the ceiling. "Just give me another minute. Nat's driving did a number on me."

But you strolled over and laid down right on top of him which made him laugh. "I don't want to give you another minute. I missed you."

"I missed you, too." You kissed him and Bradley ran his hands down to your lower back. "And you know I love your ass in your uniform pants."

"What happened with Dean and Slayer?" you asked, not letting him indulge just yet. 

"Well, Dean will not be retiring as an Admiral, and Slayer is on a year-long leave or absence with one third pay."

You smiled instantly. "They stripped Dean's rank?"

"They sure did, Sweetheart. And they are going to force him to retire without benefits."

"Damn," you whispered as you kissed his chin. "He had it coming. They both did."

"Now onto more important things," Bradley said. "Two nights sleeping on that shitty hotel room bed made my back hurt."

"You poor, sweet thing," you crooned softly. 

"I know," he murmured. "I require a bath complete with you and some champagne. And then I'm hoping you'll welcome me back to our bed in the warmest way."

"I think that can be arranged." You got up and started to unbutton your uniform shirt on your way to the refrigerator. "We have one bottle left."

When you turned back, he was already gone, and you could hear the water running in your bathroom. "Seriously?" you asked as you ran in there to find him naked as the tub filled. 

"What? I missed you a lot."

The special detachment was going to feel like forever, you just knew it. And you'd be surprised if he'd be allowed to have contact with you at all for the duration. But that wasn't the only thing that you'd been thinking about this week. After he left for Lemoore, you'd read his notebook from cover to cover, and while you were certainly curious, you didn't want to make him uncomfortable. 

You slipped into the tub and into his open arms, the water just almost too hot to handle as he popped the champagne bottle and took a sip as it overflowed slightly. You straddled his thighs and pressed the bottle to your lips as he started a playlist on his phone. 

"Roo?"

"Yeah, Sweetheart?"

He set his phone down and pulled you close as you said, "I read your notebook while you were gone."

"You'll have it memorized soon," he replied with a chuckle as he kissed your shoulder. 

You took another sip of champagne before handing him the bottle. "I keep thinking about how you said you used to pick girls up before you met me, and..."

He raised one eyebrow as he drank, and then he licked his lips. "Yeah?"

"Well, I'm still curious."

He laughed and shook his head. "First of all, I was a bit of a mess before I realized I stood a chance with you and cleaned up my act. You already know that. And second, there's no way you'd have gone for any of my bullshit, I can almost guarantee that."

"But like, what were your go-to lines? What were your moves?" He tipped your chin up and looked at you closely. "Come on. Just humor me."

"God, Baby Girl. I'm sure it was all really quite embarrassing. Especially when I was younger."

You kissed his cheek and then his lips and you could feel him start to stir against your thigh. "Could you try it on me?" you asked softly. "For fun?"

Bradley's cheeks were pink and his lips tasted like champagne, and for some reason you desperately wanted to know what it would have been like if you met him five years earlier and he tried to get you to go home with him right away. 

He was stroking your tattoo absentmindedly beneath the water as he eventually asked, "What exactly did you have in mind, Sweetheart?"

"Well, there's this bar..."

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

I have been excited about the next few chapters for such a long time! So happy you're here! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 19

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[zepskies]

Love, By Any Other Name

Pairing: Castiel x F. Reader

Summary: You want him. Castiel can’t help but crave you. Dean sees both of you and wishes you’d stop being idiots.

AN: This is my first ever commission! Written for @girlsforpjm, who requested "mutual pining" with Castiel. Here you go, lovely! I sincerely hope you enjoy it. 💜

**Also, this is set during season 12.

Song Inspo: “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak

Word Count: 4,500

Tags/Warnings: Mutual pining, angst, blood and injury, (contains events from 12.12), fluff, some spice, implied smut.

“Achooo!!”

Sam grimaces while he watches you wipe your nose against your bare wrist. You shake your head and frown at the dusty tomes piled high beside you. You and Sam have been organizing the library for two hours now.

“That’s it, I can’t do this anymore,” you lament. “I need a break. My sinuses need a break.”

Sam’s lips twitch at a smile. “It’s okay. I got the rest of these.”

You aim a lazy salute at your friend and continue to sniffle as you leave the library. You circle this labyrinth of a bunker for a while, but you can’t seem to find the trench coat-wearing angel that’s supposed to live here too.

You end up in the garage, where Dean is tuning up his Baby. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, and he’s got a grease stain across his cheek.

“Hey, you seen Cas?” you ask.

Dean barely perks up from under Baby’s hood to answer you. “He went out this morning. Haven’t seen him since.”

You pout at that, leaning against the side of the car near where Dean is tinkering.

“Is it too much to ask for him to leave a note or something?” you mutter.

Dean finally glances over at you. His lips edge at a smirk.

“What, miss your little boyfriend?” he teases.

The insinuation manages to take you by surprise. Your face starts to warm in embarrassment, but you cover it with a scoff.

“You should know. He was your boyfriend first,” you volley back. Dean’s expression flattens in annoyance.

“Don’t you have anything better to do right now?” he snarks.

“Nope,” you reply, popping the “P.” But you have mercy on him.

Instead of pestering him further, you just tip over the screwdriver he had balanced on the car’s frame. He makes a sound of protest as it falls somewhere between the gears inside his precious car.

He barks your name, and his angry voice echoes on the walls to magnify his frustration, but you’re already hastening back into the hall and down to the kitchen, trying to stifle your laughter.

You’ve slipped into the kitchen to escape. Yet that’s where you find the bunker’s resident angel, washing his hands of what looks like breadcrumbs in the sink.

“Hey,” you greet him jovially. He treats you with a small smile. “Where were you?”

“Oh, nowhere really. Just stepped out for a bit,” he replies. You get the sense that he’s hiding something. You smile and step closer to him, leaning a hand on the counter.

“Oh, yeah? Where?” you ask. Your eyes gleam with amusement. “Another ‘mission on high?’”

He sends you a droll look. “No.”

You tug on his sleeve. “Come on. Tell me.”

He smiles in return, and he gives you his own version of teasing.

“Childishness doesn’t become you,” he says.

“I’m just curious. You’ve been gone all day,” you reply, tilting your head. Your stare is unyielding, and familiar; Cas knows how stubborn you can be when you want something—especially information. Sometimes he finds it annoying, but in moments like these, it’s tempered by your playful, endearing smile.

“I was on a walk,” he finally admits.

You raise your brows. “A walk? Cas, it’s winter. Like 20 degrees outside.”

“I enjoy nature,” he shrugs. “The cold doesn’t bother me much anyway.”

…Well, he is an angel. You suppose it makes sense that he doesn’t feel the frigid weather like a human would. Your brow quirks with another curious thought.

“So you were washing your hands because…?” you ask.

Castiel’s face becomes a little more bashful. “I was feeding the birds some bread.”

At that, your smile grows. Here he is: Castiel, warrior angel of the Lord, Feeder of Pigeons.

“Well, if you ever want a walking companion, I’d be happy to join you,” you offer.

Castiel gives you a certain look, like he doesn’t quite believe you. 

Your lips purse. “What?”

He sinks his hands into his pockets as he leans his slightly hunched form back on his heels.

“Nothing,” he claims. “It’s only, I seem to remember you forcing Dean to kill a spider in your room. You claimed, and I quote, bastard things that crawl don’t belong indoors.”

You cross your arms and stare back at him narrowly, even though you try to stifle a smile.

“What’s your point? Everyone’s afraid of spiders,” you reason.

He raises a brow. “You also claim to have a vendetta against birds.”

“Pigeons, Castiel. They’re rats with wings.” Even Dean would agree with you on that one.

Castiel gives you a dubious look, however.

“Forgive me if I’m skeptical of your supposed love of nature,” he says drolly.

You want to argue more, but Sam enters the room with Dean on his heels. Both men seem to sense they’ve interrupted something. You clear your throat and turn to them.

“What’s up?” you ask, more nonchalant than you feel whenever you’re near the angel beside you. Castiel glances at you, before he too silently addresses Sam and Dean.

“Uh, we’ve caught a case,” Sam says. “It’s not far. Three dead, all with their hearts, and most of their internal organs ripped out.”

“Ech,” you reply with a grimace. “Sounds kind of like a ghoul. Maybe a werewolf on steroids?”

“Well, they were fresh kills, and it’s a full moon. So more than likely we’re looking at werewolves,” he replies.

You smile thinly. “Great.”

You hate werewolves.

Correction: you really hate werewolves.

The thought hits you yet again as you lay on the floor of a dusty old hunting cabin.

The irony.

Dean hefts you in his arms, after slicing his silver blade through the heart of the yellow-eyed bastard that tore you open with his claws.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” you ask, hating how your voice trembles. Dean doesn’t answer you at first. He holds his hand to the oozing gash in your side.

“Nah, you’ll be okay. Just hang in there,” he says. Blood quickly covers his palm. He curses inside his mind.

“Cas!” he calls out roughly.

The angel had been fighting in the other the room with Sam, but after he burns out the eyes of the last werewolf and its body falls to the ground, he hears the undercurrent of alarm in Dean’s shouting. With Sam on his heels, he returns to the living room to find you and Dean.

Castiel’s steps halt in the doorway when he sees you. His face slackens for a moment, but then he hardens. He moves forward swiftly.

“Move,” he says to Dean in order to come to your side. Dean’s eyes widen, but he does as he’s told after laying you down to the floor. 

Castiel stares down at your face, offering you comfort with his eyes. You stare up at him in pain, but also with hope, and trust. You’re able to curl your fingers around the edge of his trench coat.

Then he presses his hand to your cheek. He closes his eyes in concentration while he heals you. 

Though he expels more power than he should to heal you completely. He knows it when his body sways a little after he’s done. Dean grabs his shoulder to keep him steady.

“You good?” Dean asks.

Castiel nods; he’s more focused on the way you’re catching your breath. You marvel at how your wounds, your pain, and even your blood is gone—completely washed away. He helps you sit up with an arm wrapping around your shoulders. Then he gathers you tight against him, so he can help you stand as well. He wavers again on his feet, just a little, but you’re too perceptive not to catch it. You realize he did too much to save you.

You still chide at him with a frown. “You didn’t have to use up so much of your energy.”

Castiel shakes his head. “Think nothing of it.”

Those are useless words, but you don’t bother arguing with him anymore. You just sigh and hold onto his strong arms while regaining your balance. You know for a fact that you’re blushing when you glance up at him.

Biting your lip, you soon turn away to grab the knife you’d dropped in the fight.

Without you or Cas noticing, Sam and Dean share a knowing glance. It’s subtle, in the way the brothers have perfected. Dean barely curbs a smile as he leads the way back to the car. 

You settle next to Cas in the backseat and try not to glance at him too often. You don’t know that he’s trying not to do the same to you.

Dean glances back at you two in the rearview mirror. He shakes his head.

Idiots.

Mary Winchester has been a welcome return to the family…when she’s here. Ever since Amara brought her back, she’s been distant with her sons. You don’t understand it all that well, but it’s not your place to say anything, you don’t think.

You do think Mary is a badass hunter. You just don’t know her that well.

About a week after the werewolf hunt, Mary drops in with Wally, a fellow hunter in need of assistance with a demon problem. You, Sam, Dean, and Castiel are all game. While you haven’t had to deal with demons too much in the past, you know that they’re…something of a specialty for the Winchesters. 

But of course, it quickly goes to shit.

The demon lives alone, in some shack by a river where he likes to fish. The group of you wait until he’s stepped out of the house before you go inside and case the place, looking for a good spot to spray a Devil’s Trap or two and try to trap him.

When the demon returns, he’s far stronger than any of you anticipated. The Devil’s Trap breaks with little effort (the demon’s just laughing). Then he flashes yellow eyes. You and Castiel share a look of widening shock. Mary takes a preemptive step back.

And when the kitchen door is about to close on the three of you, the angel pushes you into the next room before you can turn and fight. Sam helps you back onto your feet, though you stare at the door in horror. He and Dean try to break the door down, but it’s no use. It’s supernaturally sealed. 

You felt useless standing there. You wrack your brain for a solution, and you glance out one of the windows. Maybe there’s another way into the kitchen!

“Guys! What if we go around?” you suggest.

With that idea taking root in each of you, Sam and Dean follow you outside. Before you guys can even make it around the house, Wally flags you down. 

“We’ve got incoming!” he says. And you realize what he means. A group of black-eyed demons are bounding toward the house.

Aw, shit. You’re grateful to have Sam and Dean beside you, because the demons nearly overtake all of you. You manage to hold your own, along with the brothers. Wally isn’t so fortunate. His body hits the floor after his own blade sinks into his chest.

A pit begins to form in your stomach as you scramble toward the Impala. The plan is to catch up with Mary; thanks to Cas, she’d been able to flee the demon strong enough to snap a Devil’s Trap like a cheap trick. But she’d then taken Cas with her to safety. 

Now, Dean drives the Impala down the road at breakneck speed. 

“Are you okay?” Sam asks his mother through the phone. The car is silent enough for you to hear Mary’s reply.

“…No.”

When you step into the barn, the first thing you have to focus on is Cas covered in his own blood. He’s been stabbed by one of the demon’s strange and powerful weapons, and he lies on an old, dingy couch. You hurry to Cas’s side and take in, your face filled with horror, though you try and fail to mask it. 

You reach out a hand, but you hesitate to touch him. Suffering is written across his face. He tries to stifle sounds of pain out of habit.

Tears are fresh in your eyes as you look down at him in dismay. You chance laying a hand on his shoulder. 

“Can you heal yourself?” you ask.

“No,” he answers eventually. “I think the demon’s spear was poisoned. I think I’m…”

No, your lower lip trembles as you shake your head.

“No,” you repeat aloud. “You just need time.”

You turn to Dean, who’s approached from behind you. But you quickly turn back to Cas, as if you’ll miss out on precious few moments. Castiel’s furrowed gaze tells you he’d rather not have you see him like this, but you don’t care. There’s no way you’re leaving his side. 

The weapon that was able to do this to him was the Lance of Michael, you all discover, when Crowley suddenly appears. He also informs you all that this is no ordinary demon. It’s Ramiel, Prince of Hell. You don’t give a shit about the specifics of how Crowley is wrapped up in this.

All you care about is if there’s a cure to Cas’s wounds. Crowley’s only words of wisdom are to leave the angel behind and run as fast as you can. 

He disappears before you can spit at him. 

“Cas, how bad is it?” Dean asks, after the King of Hell predictably makes a run for it. 

Castiel opened up his shirt collar to reveal a spiderweb of black crackling across his clammy skin, slowly breaking down his vessel. 

“Crowley’s right. You should go.”

Your hand tightens on his shoulder. “Cas—”

“No, listen to me,” he says, staring into your eyes. He continues with difficulty. “Look…thank you. Thank you. Knowing you all, it’s been the best part of my life. The things we’ve shared together, they have changed me… You’re my family, and I love you.”

His gaze had fallen on you, making your breath hitch. But his dark blue eyes travel to Sam and Dean next, and even Mary. 

“I love all of you.” The angel is the closest to tears and heartbreak that you’ve ever seen him. He struggles to hold himself together, in more ways than one. “Just, please, please don’t make my last moments be spent watching you die. Just run, and save yourselves, and I will hold Ramiel off as long as I can.”

You’re shaking your head before he even finishes the sentence. Tears pour down your cheeks in silent streams, but you still hold him down when he tries to force his body to sit up. He doesn’t have the strength to resist you encouraging him to lie back down. 

Dean voices what you’re all thinking.

No. None of you would cut and run and leave him to die, no matter what Cas says. 

“Like you said, we’re family. And we don’t leave family behind.”

Ramiel comes for all of you, specifically for his stolen weapon. Killing the rest of you would just be an added bonus.

But while the four of you manage to pin down the demon with holy fire and a good fight, it’s Sam who manages to stab the Prince of Hell with Michael’s Lance, killing him in flash of brilliant light and rendering his body to ash. 

Of course, that’s when Crowley arrives once again, late holding his proverbial Starbucks. In this case, what would’ve been a mocha frappe is actually the Lance—and Crowley breaks it in half. It somehow reverses the curse of the blade, and therefore frees Castiel. 

He’s able to heal himself back to a full recovery. 

But also, rather predictably, Crowley disappears again before you all can recover yourselves. 

Sam and Dean help the angel back onto his feet. His clothes are still covered in blood, but his skin is clear and no longer clammy, his eyes no longer bloodshot. He’s shocked to still be alive, and you can barely contain yourself. Tears stream down your face as you surprise him with a hug.

Cas releases an oof, his body wavering just slightly before he plants his feet and wraps his arms around you. His hold tightens around your smaller frame, and he chances resting his chin on the top of your head.  

“So…you’re good?” Mary asks incredulously. 

Castiel raises his gaze to answer her. “I guess I am.”

You’re quiet for the rest of the drive home. Mary had taken her own car for the hunt, so it leaves you once again in the backseat with Castiel.

He finds your silence perturbing, though he doesn’t have the courage to ask you what’s wrong. Despite his full recovery, you still seem upset somehow. 

Part of him wants to reach out to you…but he stops himself. He also reminds himself not to stare at you. Instead, he turns his head back out the window. You felt his gaze on your profile, but you resolve to keep yours stubbornly out of your own window. 

The only one who notices the exchange, yet again through the rearview mirror, is Dean. His lips firm into a thoughtful frown. 

Home, sweet home, you think wryly when you enter the bunker. 

You give into the urge to beeline straight for your room without even turning your head. 

Sam and Mary follow suit, which leaves Castiel hesitating in the hall. Dean takes pity on him and claps his shoulder. 

“You okay, man?” he asks. Cas is staring after you like a man who’s lost his way.

“She’s…upset,” he replies, both confused and bothered by that fact.  

Dean’s lips twitch humorlessly. “Yeah, well, you almost died.”

“Yes,” Cas gives a wry nod. “But she seems upset at me.”

Dean has to smile for real. It’s plain as day what’s on his friend’s mind, and why. Just like it’s obvious as hell (at least to him) why you’re probably “upset.” As always, Dean takes up the role of wingman. 

“Why don’t you just go talk to her then?” he suggests.

Castiel hesitates. He’s not sure if he’d be intruding on you. The emotions of human women are foreign to him. They always have been, even when he was human, not so long ago. But he trusts Dean’s advice on these things.

So, he eventually nods. He means to follow you, but Dean stops him for a moment with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Maybe after you, uh, wash your clothes. Take a shower. Maybe shave a little,” he says, brushing his fingers over his own chin. “But uh, keep a little scruff. Some chicks dig that.”

“Shave my facial hair, but…keep my facial hair?” Cas tries to clarify. 

Dean blinks at his friend. Christ.

 “Okay, look, just clean yourself up,” he says. “You’ll be fine.”

With one last clap on the back, Dean disappears down the hall to his room. It leaves Castiel feeling somewhat unbalanced, but he treks the other way.

Normally he would restore his clothes with his powers, but he’d used up his reserves just to heal himself. There was a time when his connection to heaven was enough to do more than heal his own injuries. Now, however, both he and heaven itself are in a lesser state. 

Shaking his head, he goes down to the laundry room. He still remembers how to wash his own clothing. 

He unintentionally finds you there in the laundry room. You’ve peeled away your jacket that had been stained with his blood, and you’re tossing it into the machine. It leaves you in a thin shirt and jeans.

Castiel finds himself admiring your form; the familiar curve of your face, the shade of your hair, the outline of your bra through your shirt (which he tries not to notice), and the other curves that he has to often felt guilty for tracing with his eyes…and imagining with his hands.  

You look up when he enters the room.

He knocks himself out of his thoughts and freezes, a bit uncertain.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he offers.

You just shake your head. “It’s okay.”

Your eyes roam over him then, from head to toe. It makes his face feel a bit warm.

“You want me to throw that coat in with mine?” you ask, pointing over to him. Cas examines his bloody trench coat.

“I’m not sure there’s any saving it, but we can try,” he says. He peels off the coat and allows you to throw it into the watching machine along with your bloody clothing.

“Your shirt’s white, so you should wash that separately,” you advise.

“I know,” he says, with a faint smile. “I, uh, I remember.”

You begin to regain some of your normal self, glancing at him with more warmth in your eyes. 

“Do you ever miss being human?” you ask. Cas draws closer to you. He rests a hand near yours, where you lean on the dryer. 

“There were some enjoyable aspects. Food, in particular,” he admits. “Now if I try to take a bite of a sandwich, it’s just…molecules, really.”

You wince in sympathy. “God, I don’t know how I could go through life without being able to enjoy another Snickers bar.”

He nods in agreement. He remembers chocolate well.

“But it wasn’t just the taste. It was the feeling of satiety. Sometimes, being uncomfortably full was quite satisfying,” he says. That makes you smile. 

But it soon drops when you take in the disgusting state of his shirt. Unbidden, it reminds you of every horrific thing that happened tonight. You really can’t bear it. 

“Okay, give me that,” you gesture at the shirt.

You start to unbutton it before he’s really ready for you, but he tries to get over his embarrassment by removing his tie. Meanwhile, you undo the buttons of his shirt while trying not to think too hard about what you’re really doing as you start to see flashes of his skin, from chest to sternum.

He takes a peek at your face. 

“Are you angry?” he asks. 

Your brows are furrowed, but this time more in confusion when you look up at him. 

“No. Why?” 

Cas’s brows furrow. “It feels like you’re angry…at me.”

The hasty motions of your hands calm at that. You consider him with a frown. Maybe you are a little upset at him. It’s not really fair, you know, but it’s how you feel. You blow out a sigh. 

“I just… After everything we’ve been through, everything you’ve done for us, how could you think for one second that we would leave you there alone? Alone to die?” you ask. It renders Castiel a bit stunned into silence. 

Your grip tightens on the now open edges of his shirt.

“Look, that situation was bad enough. But if you ever try to push me away like that again…”

You’re unable to finish that thought. You become waylaid by your own tears as emotion clogs your throat and threatens to choke you. 

Castiel raises a hand to touch your face, tentatively at first, then more comforting. He brushes his thumb across your cheek, catching the tears there. 

“I wasn’t trying to push you away,” he confesses. “I was trying to save you…because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, even as I lay dying.”

You hold onto his hand. Biting your lower lip, you find enough courage to meet his eyes. They’ve lowered to your lips, you realize, though maybe Cas doesn’t. He seems a bit surprised when you lean up towards him.

You go more slowly. Your hand falls on his warm chest. For God’s sake, do something, you tell yourself. 

You don’t know if he can pick up on your thoughts as well with your bodies touching this close, but he seems to have an internal battle of his own. You each make a decision at the same time.

It has you leaning up the rest of the way, and Castiel bending down to meet your kiss.  

He gathers you closer; one hand finds its way into your tangled hair, while the other grasps your hip and brings you flush against him. Your hands move up his chest and wind around his neck. He holds you tightly against him as his lips claim yours, over and over with increasing urgency. 

He turns you in his arms and hefts you up onto the dryer machine. There he gets even more leverage to kiss you the way he has secretly imagined, to touch you the way he’s too often craved, with his hands warming up and down your thighs.

You utter a moan of longing as you hold his face. You like the scrape of his stubble against your palms. You can almost imagine that delightful tingling against otherplaces down your body. Places you’d like him to explore when you have more privacy…

Or maybe here is privacy enough.

You alternatively tangle and tug your fingers through his hair. And it’s his turn to moan when you take his lower lip between your teeth, scraping just hard enough to be both painful and delightful.

He squeezes your thighs in retaliation. It prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him even closer. Your dirty boots cross behind his back.

But soon, his touch gentles, more tender than demanding as he slows the kiss. His lips veer from yours and burn a path across your jawline, down the smooth column of your neck.

It allows you to catch your breath, but the feeling of his gentle lips and rough cheek just turns you on even more. You card your fingers through his hair and close your eyes. 

“Cas,” you breathe in content. 

He hesitates, with his lips on your neck. “Yes?”

You blink for a moment, but then you have to giggle. You twine your arms around his neck and hold him close. 

“Nothing,” you reply. Your smile says it all though. Cas sees it when he pulls away a bit, turning his gaze back to you. He caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. 

“I didn’t think feelings such as this…desires like this, would affect me after I became an angel again.”

Your smile brightens, even as you blush. “Does that make me special?”

“Yes,” he replies, with a soft smile. “But for many more, and far better reasons than that.”

Your eyes begin to sting with unshed tears. You bite the edge of your lower lip, but Cas’s thumb swiping across encourages you to release it.

“When you said that you loved me,” you say, a little shakily, “did you just mean…in the family sense?”

Castiel meets your eyes, and there he finds his courage. 

“Yes,” he says. “And no.”

With another one of those smiles he’s come to love, you bring him back in for a kiss. All too soon, it becomes hungrier, rougher, born of passion and secret desires finally spilling free. 

“Wait,” you pant against his lips, taking his hands in yours. “Come with me.”

Anywhere, his heart says.

But after you jump down from the dryer, you tug him by the hand out of the laundry room. After a quick scan of the hallway, you give him a playful little smile and lead him down to your room.

Castiel can’t help but smile in return. He follows your lead in more ways than one when the door to your bedroom shuts behind you both.

You help him shrug off his tattered shirt, and he helps you out of yours next, followed swiftly by the belt buckle on his slacks. 

In that moment, and many moments after, you’re grateful for door locks. You just hope the Winchesters aren’t dumb enough to interrupt what you have planned next for your angel…

Because it might just take all night.

AN: I haven't written for Castiel in a long time, but I had fun with this. 🥰 I hope you all enjoy it! Let me know what you think. 😘

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𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎-𝚊𝚗𝚍-𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 | jung wooyoung x fem!reader

a one-sided (best) friends one night!wooyoung one-shot

“Aw, are you gonna be my best friend in need, Woo?”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : At least the car didn’t fall and crash, right? That’s what Wooyoung wants to believe.

"Shut the fuck up and let me fuck you."

[ now playing : " bonnie & clyde " ▸ dean ]

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : angst, smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 3.2k

spotify link | series masterlist link

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜) : unreciprocated romantic feelings, sexual tension, best friends hooking up, one-night-stand, cabriolet-driving at night, open roof, illegal parking, making out, car sex; wooyoung masturbates to you, wooyoung’s present perspective/narrative, he's so horny and so in love, interactive?, at least quite confrontational

masterlist link | join my taglist

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : aight um... i wrote this? in one heart-breakingly missing my hubba bubba daddy dean hours session. i skipped over the second verse out of length and plot purposes + the translations provided are like 80% mine and if not then from genius <33

always grateful for for your likes, reblogs and feedback xoxo!!!

𝚝𝚊𝚐-𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 : @r1kitti : @sanniesbunnie : @northerngalxy @sanwhalvr : @revehosh : @fandems

He looked at you, even though Wooyoung knew he shouldn't.

Right now, right now Could I tell you right now?

His eyes should have been on the road, his hands should have been on the steering wheel, and haha, his thoughts should have definitely been about your safety and not about how he wanted to either drive off a cliff or tear the clothes off your amazing fucking body, but you picked the second choice yourself anyway, didn’t you? Just getting that shirt off like it’s nothing, revealing yourself like it’s nothing, but… God, Y/N, you are everything to him, he had no other choice.

아직까지 깨어있니? 오늘 너의 하루는 어땠니? 아무 일도 없긴 뭐가 없어

(Are you still awake? ; How was your day today? What do you mean, 'nothing happened'?)

Wooyoung wants it to be your fault. Wants it to be your fault that when you called him, his brain was filled with the image of you swimming in the ocean in that thing of a bikini that you wore to make your ex jealous even if he was not present on any day during the vacation except in your head, and he desperately wants it to be your fault that, after you had disappeared with some dumb-fucking rando from the beach-bar for the evening, Wooyoung scoffed in malicious glee that you let him know it hadn’t led to anything, grabbing his keys immediately to pick you up from the place you didn't find luck at.

What he’s trying to say is that you’re really in luck he didn’t grab that liquor that night. 

가끔은 외���하려 해도 꽤 쉽지만은 않은 게 있어 I know 다 안다고

(I try to look away sometimes, but there are just some things that aren’t that easy, I know; I know it all)

But maybe being sober was the worst part.

He hid it well, Wooyoung thinks, or you were just too drunk to care, when you caught his curious gaze through the window, with your tits still sitting safely in the bra, your shirt already thrown out of the cabriolet.

“Woo!”, you laughed, and he can still hear the tenderness of your voice vividly, “eyes on the road~”

“Your tits looked bigger than I remember,” was his immediate answer, and your giggle was worth the cringe, “had to double-check.”

The last time he saw them was, what, middle-school truth or dare? Of course they grew since then, you were explaining in drunkenness and looked at your own set of boobs, while pushing them together, mumbling something about puberty, hormones and horny teenagers, but somehow finishing it off with, “Best friends bonding session!”

And Wooyoung is still puzzled about that.

내 앞에서 아닌 척 해도

(Even though in front of me, you pretend you don't)

Well, he grinned when you said it, but for no other reason that wasn’t just you looking so lovable under the moonlight, with your eyes sparkling with glee, and not because he found any sense in, god, whatever it means, “best friends bonding.”

“Bonding”? Sure. Seeing your tits had removed some boundaries— and in retrospect, mentioning that incident again must have been another little tease of yours, but be really honest for a second.

There are just some things “best friends” shouldn’t do.

… Shouldn’t have done, that is.

Bonnie and clyde, bonnie and clyde, one night

The nightly winds were hitting your open arms with you laughing full of life, when Wooyoung finally opened the roof for you. You’d been dying to do it, he had seen it by how you kept leaning outside the open window to feel the speed of the car hit your face, but he didn’t want to not see it. At least he still hates that he doesn’t know the expression you were wearing while you let out the most freeing, revivifying, crystal clear cheer.

He wants to believe that your cheeks were rosy, your eyes shiny, and that your lips were curled up into a smile, as you inhaled again and laughed all by yourself, watching the trees and mountains of the city pass by and draw long, ghostly trails from how fast the vehicle was moving.

It was extremely dangerous, all of it.

Who cares, who cares

The way Wooyoung drove without looking at the speed dial? God, so dangerous, but what’s way more dangerous is the way you became silent, and made him curious, made him believe that there were stars in the sky or something— and he thinks he’s still in the right for thinking that— and made him glance up to you.

Fuck, do you even know how hot you looked when you started to touch yourself down your bust? You probably don’t. You were feeling the textile of the lingerie scratch your fingers, warming your skin under the cold breezes, but when you cupped that perfect tit of yours, you threw your head back and fuck, he thinks if you had seen him you would think he was a pervert, and maybe he fucking is, because Wooyoung was definitely thinking the most perverted things he could do in that moment, all including his mouth, his fingers, his panging cock; Good fucking god, Y/N, you had his mind scorching, it only needed a little more spark and he would have exploded, right here and there.

친구 사이 친구 사이 alright

(Just friends, just friends alright)

So of course he tried to keep it cool as possible. Rested one hand relaxedly on the gear, the other on the steering wheel, and attempted to stare blankly to the front. Wooyoung ignored how you were arching your back to match the flow of how the air brushed against your ribs, tried to ignore how you let your fingertips disappear under the bra, and failed to not think about how delicious your nipple would taste between his lips.

친구 사이 친구 사이 alright

(Just friends, just friends alright)

He couldn’t take it anymore–  not being on you, in you, with you– and that’s why he said something.

“What do you think you’re doing there, bestie?”, Wooyoung remembers jokingly scoffing, driving into the highway so he didn’t have to think about the road too much, to give himself more time to admire the sexy body that you were touching.

“Nuthin~”, you lulled and he realizes now that Wooyoung had forgotten how drunk you’d been. Such a dumbass to think you were doing it all on purpose, isn’t he? You make him so fucking stupid.

“The guy really left you on the hook, huh?”, he spat, fingers gripping the wheel.

“Fuckin’ asshole left me so needy~”, you whined and maybe you tugged your own nipple or something, but he couldn’t have overhead that whiny, melodic moan that left your mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm~”

Who cares, who cares

What would you have done in his position? 

That’s the thing Wooyoung is most curious about. If it had been him drunk in your cabriolet, feeling down his, whatever, his cock, wouldn’t you have offered a helping hand, too? Because you’re a good friend like that?

He will never know the answer.

도망가 도망가 너와 난

(Escape, escape, you and I)

Wooyoung drove faster to make you come down, he won’t even try to deny that.

With a loud, brutal vroom, he drove the last mile with so many thoughts pinging inside his mind, with you continuing to give yourself goosebumps all over your skin, admiring how the hairs on your body went up over your own touch— knowing that it could be him doing that made Wooyoung grow desperate.

“Why did you stop? Where are we?”, you asked, and Wooyoung remains having no idea. Just somewhere in the middle of the highway, with cicadas chirping and filling out the silence that followed after he turned off the car motor, the roof above you closing down. A few miles away, there would have been a legal parking spot waiting for him, but Wooyoung immediately unbuckled his seatbelt, so it’s safe to say he didn’t give a fuck.

“Still needy, bestie?”

Who cares, who cares

God, you were so needy. It’s like you didn’t wait a second to question him or get any reassurance that this was what had been on his mind, because maybe you had already seen his bulge to know he was needy too, or maybe— and this is what Wooyoung would like to believe— you just wanted him that much.

Fuck, cut him some slack, okay? Wooyoung was just that surprised to find you crawling over to his driver’s seat, planting your ass immediately where he needed it the most. It was fucking magical, the friction of your body grinded over his erection was making him grunt and grope your ass cheeks.

“Aw, are you gonna be my best friend in need, Woo?”, you giggled, getting your hands behind his neck, driving yourself into his hard-on that he didn’t know could get even harder. It extended painfully under his belt, but fortunately, you were too much in heat to let him wait any longer.

Till we die, till we die

“Shut the fuck up and let me fuck you,” Wooyoung cackled, and he still grins recalling how your gasp whirrs in his hazy memories.

It all feels so washed out, your impatient fingers unbuckling his belt, as Wooyoung bent the seat to the back, letting his head fall to his neck, as you got your lips pressed against his– just a lot of movements, a lot of feelings mixing up together, slurred into a motion of two people trying to have a fulfilling night.

Oh 너와 나의 마지막 일지라도

(Oh, even if this means our end)

Was it fulfilling to finally get a taste of your sweet saliva, your honeyed whimpers, when he grabbed you by your tits to prepare for sucking them numb? He doesn’t know it yet, but Wooyoung definitely can’t ignore how hard his cock has become in his boxer shorts to the memory of you looking down at him in awe, caressing his cheek, as he enveloped your perky tit with his mouth, immediately running his tongue over your sensitive nipple.

그럴지라도

(Even if)

The sounds, Y/N, your fucking sounds. Sounds Wooyoung thought he would never hear in his entire life, but definitely wished to hear once at least— and of course he’d be a fool to say he got enough of them, but making you whimper “Woo, fuck, please,” as he got his hand into panties and made you grind on his finger, and then hearing how your cunt squelched when you lowered yourself on it, is enough to make him cum tonight.

His hand is wrapped around his cock, face planted into his pillow so he can somehow simulate how it felt like being suffocated by your tits, Wooyoung recalls how tightly you clenched around his fingers, how wet you were, wet for him, just so fucking needy for your best friend, rutting your hips so his fingertip could graze your sweetest spot over and over again, moaning out “Wooyoung, Wooyoung, Wooyoung,” over and over again.

Would you remember me?

“Y/N,” he growls, and it feels embarrassing to do so, but Wooyoung can’t help himself, he’s becoming delirious because of you, the seam of his shirt becoming absolutely soaked in his mouth, as he bites into it. “God, fuck, Y/N,” he lisps again, thrusting into his hand in the same way he thrusted into you, right after you were trembling around his fingers, whimpering out your first orgasm but not being satiated. 

Nah, nah, I'm just…

“You’re so fucking big,” is what you’d moaned out to boost his ego, but maybe it’s true, because Wooyoung does indeed feel quite big in his grip right now, craving your tight cunt, craving how it clutched around his girth, how hot and wet it felt like, when he fucked your eyes to roll behind your head, your spit glistening on your tongue, as your mouth fell open to never be closed again.

Alright 틀린 선택일지라도

(Alright, even if this is the wrong choice)

“Feels so fucking good, huh? Better than your dumb fucking ex?” 

“Yes, so so much fucking better than his dumb cock, Woo, please don’t stop!”

And maybe that was the moment. The moment his head snapped, when it all fractured, his feelings, his five years of pining, watching you be with some dumb fucking pricks, when he, Wooyoung, your “best friend”, could treat you so much better. 

With your hands taking off his hoodie, as he pistoned his hips into you, your warm sweat dripped onto his torso, and it felt like all the tears he’d shed for you had been worth it.

Alright 결국 후회할지라도

(Alright, even if we regret it after)

It didn’t matter how many tears he’d shed after, because the tears that flowed down your soft cheeks that night, with you weeping “make me cum, Woo, please make me cum so hard,” like he was pulling you by a string to mewl out words for him that still make his cock twitch, were precious droplets of your pleasure. And he’d do anything for it.

“Yeah?”, Wooyoung snickered, breathing into your face with a grin, feeling like he was owning the world by making you dumb on his dick, “You love my fucking cock, Y/N? You love your best friend’s cock?”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whined out, bouncing desperately over his hips that it was leaving your ass red, “I love your cock, Woo, I love it so, so, so fucking much!”

But somehow, you didn’t love it enough.

Oh baby Oh 널 울린 그 놈에게로 baby

(Oh baby Oh, even if you return to the guy who made you cry)

Wooyoung doesn’t want to think about it and just rut his pelvis into his hand so he can cum and unload in peace, but the thought of you being in his arms again, being used by your stupid fucking ex like a toy probably right fucking now, just makes him more aggressive, greedier, furious.

“Really? You love my cock, Y/N? You really love it?”

“Y-yes, W- Woo,” you moaned out, shakily, when he roughly pushed you over, your back landing on the steering wheel, a loud honk echoing through the empty streets. After Wooyoung’s eyes sunk in an angry, deep-seated red, it confused you, almost sobered you up, but of course you would turn sex-drunk in the matter of seconds, as he began to pound into you as if he was on a mission— a mission to make you remember.

Oh 이미 결과는 내 손을 떠났어 bang bang! (Oh, the result has been out of my hands anyways, bang bang!)

He could never cum like he did that night. It was raw, vulgar, dirty, filthy, absolutely pornographic how Wooyoung drove himself into you, moaning, grunting, breathing into your ear and sucking hickeys into your neck at every inch he got the chance to, so even if you’d wake up with the most hefty blackout, you could see what your best friend made of you in the mirror.

Just marks and signs of his infatuation all over your gorgeous body, and Wooyoung feels his jaw hurt, as he realizes how long he’s been biting down his shirt for imagining your love-bite bedecked breasts— Way too long, Y/N, way too fucking long.

Right now, right now Where you at right now

Five years, no, he counts a total of almost ten years of friendship with a sweet girl who remained fun and cheery, and then meeting her again as a woman who let herself be tossed around by some bastards because you don’t know what you’re worth, at least not worth to him. 

Wooyoung felt rich with you. He felt like he had everything, when you wrapped your arms around him, once he’d unloaded his hot cum inside you with a moan that was lost immediately in the steamy, hot space of his car, and kissed him, kissed Wooyoung on the lips, just because you, well, felt like doing it? Everything.

“I love you, Woo…”

Where am I right now Girl

He’s so pathetic for thinking that you meant it.

I want, want you to know Babe I want you to know

“I love you too, Y/N.”

How much I love you How much I need you

But Wooyoung doesn’t stop. 

I want, want you to know Babe, I want you to know

He doesn’t stop tensing his abdomen to his own touch, he’s given up on thrusting into his hand because it could never, ever feel like you, and Wooyoung spits into his hand again to somehow make him believe he’s being fucked by your wet cunt again.

How much I love you How much I need you

Wooyoung repeats it over and over again in his head, your voice, your words, “I love it,” “I love you, Woo,” and before he can feel his heart drop, his hand accelerates, running and speeding over his shaft and his eyes close down into a tight squeeze, cum spurting out his needy cock.

I want, want you to know Babe, I want you to know

The car still smelled of your sweet sweat, when he drove you to your place, lending you his hoodie because you, silly Y/N, had thrown your shirt out the window– and Wooyoung had sat there for a while, on his seat, staring into the the horn he had you pressed against, had you moaning his name his name against, had you cum, had you love him against.

How much I love you How much I need you

It’s sobering, yeah, that’s the word. 

Wooyoung being the only one to see through your lies the second they leave your mouth, and while he knows that “I love you, Woo” had been the truth, “yeah, it’s better if we forget about it, I guess” was a ruthless fucking lie and he hopes you know that, when Wooyoung presses a bitter like on the beach-selfie you’d posted with him, presenting yourself in that bikini so you could finally catch a certain someone’s attention. “BFF4L” had been the caption. You little jokester. 

Fucking heartbreaker.

I want, want you to know Babe, I want you to know

He doesn’t hate you, no, in fact, he hates that his cock immediately jumps back up once Wooyoung sees that picture again, with both of you smiling and grinning into the camera, holding each other arm in arm like two good friends are supposed to do, he hates that his hands remember how soft, sweaty and hot your skin felt under his touch, and Wooyoung hates himself that he was the one to have spoken out the question of, “we should probably forget yesterday, huh?”

He should have just shut the fuck up and fucked you again all his heart desired instead.

How much I love you

Maybe he’s really that slow, maybe he just didn’t catch how your face dropped a little bit when Wooyoung asked you to let go of the euphoric memories of feeling free, fiery and idolized in his car, return to the draining feeling of needing to be seen by other eyes.

It is a cruel task, but there’s a bond, a bond between you and him. A stupid bond which goes beyond the way you covered up your marks to meet up other men that summer– that stupid fucking bond which makes Wooyoung ready to grab his keys again, any time you call him out because he’s your best friend in need, your ride-or-die.

How much I need you

Wooyoung remembers you, even though he knows he shouldn't.

#jung wooyoung x y/n #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung scenarios #jung wooyoung imagines #jung wooyoung x you #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez smut #chokkiwa #gotahotminute

[bit-dodgy-innit]

Cuff(ed) It

Part of my 500 Follower Celebration set in The Shape of Youniverse

The Prompt: You and Steven attend his department holiday party 

Requested by: a lovely nonnie!!

Pairing: Steven x afab!reader, background Jake x afab!reader, and Marc x afab!reader, Reader is married to the system

Spice-O-Meter: 🌶🌶🌶 (Rated Explicit, Minors DNI!)

Word Count: 3.8k 

CW/TW: Tonight we’re pleased to offer Steven’s students being thirsty for him, talk of meddling in one’s marriage (nothing serious though), tipsy (but still very consensual) sex, exhibitionism, f!receiving fingering, mirror!sex, doggy!style, mentions of pregnancy and conceiving, breeding kink, lactation kink and breastplay, dirty talk, tooth-rotting sappiness over little bebes at the end 

A/N: THE FINAL PROMPT FILL! WOOOOO ONLY TOOK ME A SHORT QUICK THREE-ODD MONTHS TO GET THROUGH THEM ALL 😝 This fic? Gonna be honest, she’s a bit chaotic, but in the best way I hope. I started writing it, felt stuck, opened a new document and this poured out. Translations at the bottom of the post! 

“You know, I never noticed it until tonight, but you know who’s actually quite fit?”

“Who?”

“Doctor Grant.”

“Oh girl I knowwwwwww. At school he slouches and wears those dorky shirts, but at stuff like this, when he’s in a suit and his wife’s with him, I always remember how sneaky-hot he is.”

“Oh my god, exactly!”

“It’s like a department rite-of-passage to fancy Doctor Grant a bit, if I’m honest, especially after the holiday party or a fundraiser for the school or something when we all remember how bloody handsome he is.”

“I thought it was just me!” the first girl (a graduate student was your educated guess) giggled.

“No, it’s definitely a thing,” her friend confirmed.

You stood paralyzed in the restroom stall as the conversation unfolded on the other side. You’d already peed, should you leave the little cubicle and inevitably interrupt them?

Would they recognize you? You didn’t want to embarrass them. They were right after all, Doctor Grant was really quite fit, though you were admittedly biased.

Plus a craven, vain, possessive part of you wanted to hear more. With a six-month-old at home, your husband in the midst of three careers, and just the sheer amount of time you’d been together, sometimes the melee of life could make you forget just how well you’d done in the spouse department. It was nice to be reminded.

“What’s the tea on his wife, hm? How did Mrs. Grant cuff that?” The first girl prodded.

Her question was a sentence to stay in the stall. They definitely would recognize you if you emerged now.

“No idea honestly,” her companion answered, “I mean, she’s definitely pretty. They told Dean they met through a friend, and on their first date he took her to an exhibit of her favorite artist and like did all this research to impress her.”

“He had to impress her?” she echoed, her tone tinged with disbelief. Your brow furrowed. Yes, your husband was a fox, but you weren’t totally out of his league, were you? You were certainly worthy of being courted a bit, even if you did jump into bed with Marc on the first date. “I’d be on my knees every night for a guy who looked like Doctor G and was so romantic.”

They both burst more giggles. To be fair, you did spend a fair amount of time on your knees. Especially since you’d started dating Marc first, who unlike Steven, had his fair share of bedmates and exuded more inherent confidence. It intimidated you. So when you started sleeping together, you’d concocted a self-imposed need to prove to Marc that you were up to par, if not capable of exceeding, his former lovers. It was why when you learned his ex-wife was The (stupidly stunning) Scarlet Scarab, you wholly lost your shit. How does one compete with a gorgeous superhero?

“I bet she’s on them a fair bit,” Miss Know-It-All divulged, “Doctor Burke did her doctorate along with him and they didn’t start seeing each other until his last year of the course. And now they’re married and just had a baby. Bitch worked quick.”

“Honestly, can’t knock it,” the first girl conceded.

Thank you, you thought. A part of you wanted to interject that Nyla had been unexpectedly conceived on your honeymoon and you’d dated Marc for a year, then him and his alters for another year after that before getting engaged. The pair of you also weren’t literal babies like these girls currently gossiping a meter away from you. You were both adults, your husband was in his forties for heaven's sake.

“I bet the baby’s cute,” she mused further.

“Oh my goodness, he hasn’t showed you? All Doctor G does is bang on about Nyla. It’s literally either coursework or his kid if you talk to him.”

Your heart swelled. This wasn’t the first time you’d heard from Steven’s colleagues what a proud papa he was to your little girl. Hearing it from strangers, and completely unprompted, was extra special though.

“I’ve never really had a reason to talk to him, and now I don’t know if I can actually without looking like a total idiot.”

“No, he’s really sweet, he’s the type of fit guy who doesn’t know he’s fit. And he’s like scary clever. You can ask him literally anything about ancient Egypt and he knows it. But he’s also not an arsehole about it you know? I’m applying to be his TA next semester.”

“Are you?” she gasped. “Really?”

“Ummm yeah, why wouldn’t I want a dishy, brilliant thesis advisor?” Miss Know-It-All countered. “He should be at Oxford or Cambridge really. You know Sam Miller babysits for them?”

“They do?!” Her friend exclaimed. “Don’t know if I’d want that gig for the inside scoop or if it’d be too much pressure. Their kid is still a baby right?”

“Yeah, I’d say it’s worth it to suss out if Doctor G and her are open to…let’s say, ‘featured players’ in the bedroom.”

“Stop Emma, you’re terrible!”

“She came to one of his lectures once with the baby and Dean thought he heard them fucking in his office.”

Fuck, you swore internally. Steven had sworn the offices would be empty! You’d kept quiet!

“Noooo! Doctor G is hot I’ll give you that, but he dresses like my grandpa. There’s no way he’s that kinky.”

“Maybe he’s not, but she could be,” Emma pointed out. “Only one way to find out.”

“You are such a slag,” Emma’s friend accused her playfully. “Come on, we need to get back, I want another drink.”

You heard two pairs of heels shuffle to the door, then it open and close behind them, and at last the coast was clear. Finally exiting the stall, you robotically washed your hands and touched up your lipstick, moving to check that your hair still looked decent afterwards.

Your gaze lingered in the mirror to give yourself a once-over. You’d chosen a flattering, but pretty conservative dress for Steven’s UCL holiday party. Sure, there wasn’t much you could do about the size your tits had swollen up to while you were breastfeeding, but they weren’t necessarily on display tonight either. Your currently huge boobs were for your husband’s eyes (plus hands, mouth, and sometimes cock) only.

Despite your attempts to leave the eavesdropped chat between Emma and her friend in the loo where it belonged, it became obvious fairly quickly that you failed spectacularly at doing so.

“You alright?” Steven inquired, his features creased with concern. “You were in the toilets for ten minutes and have barely said a word since. Something wrong?”

“I’m fine, sorry honey,” you dispelled the worry from his face. “Just overheard an interesting conversation in there that I haven’t been able to shake.”

You grabbed a fresh glass of wine from a passing server while Steven asked “What about?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Mmmhmm,” you confirmed, taking a swig of cabernet. “It’s apparently a UCL Ancient Civ rite-of-passage to have a crush on you.”

Your husband looked at you like you’d sprouted another head. His incredulity made you burst into laughter.

“What? I’m not surprised! You’re a very good-looking, intelligent, kind man! I’ve been telling you this since we first met, after all this time—“ you leaned in and lowered your voice to add “—and all the ways I’ve let you fuck me, do you really believe that us getting married and having Nyla was just some cosmic fluke?”

“Honestly? Yeah.”

“Baby—“

Steven averted his gaze and shrugged, offering “Marc was always the handsome one…” as his explanation.

That line. It made you want to whip your wine glass across the room. You restrained yourself and instead growled through gritted teeth, “It feels silly for me to have to remind you as much as I do that you two share the exact same face and body.”

“But still—“

“No more buts anymore Steven! You have co-eds hot for you, you’re officially sexy independent of Marc,” you teased. “And you ought to feel lucky that we’re secure enough in our marriage that I’m not bothered by it. Especially since one of them wants to be your TA and replace Sam as our sitter to see if we’re into threesomes. Which I guess is better than trying to steal you from me outright, to be fair.”

Another gaping incredulous stare from Steven. “Who?”

“I didn’t get her name,” you lied. Truth was, Emma didn’t have a popsicle’s chance in hell at interfering in your marriage. Never mind that you and Steven were deeply in love and had a child together, she hadn’t a clue about the D.I.D, Marc’s past life as a mercenary, his ex-wife, not to mention the service to the Egyptian god of the moon which led to a stint as a superhero. You two had shared and been through too much for a horny twenty-something to impact what you had. “But apparently Dean heard us when we…um, had ‘parental time’ in your office a couple months ago.”

“Bollocks.”

“We knew we were being naughty,” you shrugged.

“Because it was your idea,” he muttered.

“Oh don’t start with me, Doctor Grant. You’re the one who told me not to use the nursing apron,” you fired back. “Didn’t you want to say hi to the department’s Director of Education? There he is.”

***

The rest of the evening unfolded uneventfully, though Emma and her friend, who you learned was named Marnie, did stop by for a quick chat. You were content to clam up and just watch the interaction unfold. They were perfectly polite, unlike their prattling in the bathroom, though they very much fit the trope of a pair of giggling schoolgirls. Steven, of course, was oblivious.

Blame it on the wine, the rare baby-less outing, and being emboldened by strangers raving about how hot your husband was, but when Dean insisted that you and Steven come to the after-party at a pub nearby, you insisted on going. Steven was only one of the professors in attendance, because he was one of the younger, cooler ones, therefore the vibe was much more relaxed and festive than the one at the official university get-together.

You’d had Dean over for dinner (a takeaway dinner that you had to constantly get up from the table because Nyla had started teething that week, but dinner still) so spending time with him was easy and delightful while Steven mingled with his other colleagues.

You also liked to privately touch base with him about Steven’s professional wellbeing. Your husband was tight-lipped about any office woes, and while Dean wasn’t privy to your husband’s D.I.D., you knew that sometimes aspects of it could manifest in your husband’s workplace. The last thing you wanted to do was interfere, but Steven truly loved what he did, and as his wife with a tendency to fret, you liked to keep a tab or two to ensure nothing jeopardized his passion.

“I’m impressed,” Dean remarked as you two huddled outside the pub while he had smoke. “You haven’t batted an eye at all the little first-year masters students throwing themselves at him.”

You laughed. Steven’s hot professor status was really department-wide thing it seemed. “I can’t blame them. He’s very dreamy, but I baby-trapped him so…”

Dean cackled when you punctuated your response with a shrug. “No flies on you, darling. Cheers.”

You and your husband gracefully bowed out when mentions of moving to a club began to take hold. Too tipsy and tired for the Tube, Steven flagged a cab for the both of you, even though it meant that he’d have Jake backseat-driving in his head the whole ride back to Brixton.

Once inside, you rested your head on your husband’s shoulder, hoping to maybe doze off for a few minutes in case Nyla was up when you got home. Steven automatically pressed a kiss to your temple. He was so solid and warm, so safe, you couldn’t help but snuggle closer to him and place a hand over his knee.

“In case I haven’t told you yet, you look pretty as a present tonight,” he murmured into your ear.

You don't know what it was about his compliment, perhaps it was the way he said it, or the way you’d had four glasses of wine, but Steven's soft words of adoration set your body alight.

“Hmm, thank you darling,” The hand that was on his knee traveled towards his inseam to squeeze the meat of his thigh. “Wanna unwrap me? Or maybe just take off the bow? I’d let you slip my knickers aside and play with your present right now if you wanted.”

“Bloody hell,” he groaned, both at your filthy offer and the fact that you’d dragged your hand to cup him through his trousers. “Babe, he’ll see.”

The cabbie had airbuds in (a personal pet peeve of Jake’s) and eyes trained on the road. You shook your head imperceptibly. “Not if we’re careful about it.”

To prove your point, you subtly shifted to drape your thigh over Steven’s leg so he could do just as you suggested. It seemed that your fondling of your husband’s package, steadily but insistently coaxing him to hardness, was able to convince him to follow suit. He tucked his hand under your skirt, mimicking your approach, dragging his palm slowly up your leg. Next, his nimble fingers nudged the dampened crotch of your knickers aside and delved between your folds.

You could feel Steven’s length jump and swell when he made contact with your pussy. It prompted you to rub at him a little harder, biting your lip when one of his digits penetrated you.

“My saucy exhibitionist minx,” he purred into your ear.

“Says the man who screws me in cafe loos,” you shot back without any real heat. How could you be snarky when Steven was slowly, torturously finger-fucking you and his hot, hard manhood was pulsing under your palm?

“Mmmm, I always get a stiffy when we eat there now,” Steven confessed in a whisper about your neighborhood cafe. “That was insane, sucking at your titties and riding my cock like that in the middle of the day.”

“I know daddy,” you sighed, clenching around his digit at the thought. “So naughty, but so good.”

The remainder of the ride home passed in a labored silence between you two, both trying to enjoy each other’s ministrations, but not so much that you clued in the driver. There was one close call when Steven had the gall to sneak another finger inside of you. You nearly drew blood biting your lip to stifle moaning at the intrusion, since it meant you could get straight to fucking once you arrived home.

Tonight wasn’t the first date night you’d come chomping at the bit to make love, so thankfully you two had a pre-established routine. Steven used his coat to cover his groin and went straight to the nursery to check on Nyla while you paid and said goodnight to Sam (your desire was easier to conceal after all). Once Nyla was confirmed to be asleep and Sam had left, you met in your bedroom and tore each other’s clothes off.

The wine warped the edges of your perception, making the clash of teeth and tongues between you and Steven blur into a buzz of arousal, until next thing you knew you were naked, on your hands and knees and your husband was pushing his thick erection inside of you in one determined, smooth shove. You almost moaned the wrong name, nearly keening “Jake” when he entered you, because the position wasn’t one in Steven’s usual rotation. He much preferred for you to ride him, or for you to be on your back - any position where he could sink into your cunt and suckle at your nipples simultaneously.

You weren’t complaining however, and happily pushed back into his thrusts. It wasn’t until Steven angled his hips just right to hit your g-spot, and you threw your head back that you realized it. “We’re in front of the mirror.”

“Mmmhmm,” Steven confirmed, “like to see your tits swing and…ungh, they’ve been watching since you started groping me in the taxi.”

The revelation that Marc and Jake were privy to your coupling had a fresh wave of heat racing down your spine and pooling in your core as Steven continued to rail you.

“Was just so horny for you baby,” you explained, “everyone was eyeing you, but you’re mine and you know you’re mine and I know you’re mine, but I just wanted to feel it. I…I couldn't wait. ”

“You have us now,” he assured you. “Can’t count how many times we’ve seen people checking you out and you’re none the wiser. They can look, but you belong to us, don't you?”

“Yesssss daddy,” you mewled, now equally drunk off the alcohol and your arousal. “Keep giving me your big prick, feels so good.”

“Vamos, Steven, let’s give her more of this big prick she wants so badly,” Jake’s voice growled from behind you. His broad arms moved from your hips to encase your waist and pulled you upright, “Te gusta nena? Like being impaled on our cock like this?”

Your answer was non-verbal, but unmistakably emphatic.

“I think she likes it,” Marc’s American accent chuckled darkly from behind you.  

You whined the increase in fullness the change in position brought about, paired with the image you all made in the mirror together. You were first drawn to your husband’s determined expression, so set on his objective to make you see stars that his face was twisted into a snarl. Next, you glimpsed your large breasts heaving with every snap of his hips, and your cunt speared open on his massive erection. The sheer depravity of your reflection made you tilt your head back onto your husband’s broad shoulder and screw your eyes shut.

You knew Steven had wrestled back control of the body when his two large hands found your tits and began to pluck at your nipples. “Love you so much darling, want more kids together. Want Nyla to be just the first.”

His words made your channel flutter around his length at the thought.

“Would you let me? Maybe not tonight, but I want to fill you up with every last drop of my cum, keep these titties big and leaking for me, watch your belly grow again with another gorgeous child.”

“Ohhh fuck Steven,” you gasped, “I want that too.”

“Yeah? You want me to pump you full again?” He urged you, one hand leaving your nipple to suck his soaked fingertip into his mouth for a taste of your milk.

“Please, please, please,” you chanted. You didn’t want another kid right away, but seeing what excellent fathers your husband made definitely meant you wanted more babies eventually. “For now though, will you just make me cum?”

“‘Course darling,” he rumbled, his hand dropping to your clit to push you over the edge. You’d been simmering with yearning all night, so it didn’t take much more than Steven’s hand on your clit, his other on your breast, and his length hammering into you from behind to drown you in ecstasy.

You crumpled back against Steven’s chest while your orgasm coursed through you, too overwhelmed with pleasure to support yourself. Your husband buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent deeply and reveling in the beauty of your release that was unfolding in his arms.

You’d barely floated back down to earth before Steven manhandled you back onto your elbows while he chased his respective climax. The relentless pistoning of his cock into your spent hole emptied every thought from your head that wasn’t “yes”, “good” , or “full”. It wasn’t long before you felt your husband’s seed painting your inner walls and collapsing on top of you.

The late hour and the alcohol made you both slower in extracting yourselves from one another, and after exchanging some sated, passionate kisses, you made a beeline to relieve yourself and wash off your makeup. Steven joined you a moment later in the en-suite to begin his respective nighttime regimen. You two readied for bed in companionable silence. Then:

“It was Emma and Marnie, wasn’t it?”

“Yup,” you replied, popping the p as you dotted on moisturizer, “Don’t hold it against them though, I think Emma’s going to apply to be your TA. It was all harmless in the loo, I promise.”

“Alright,” he surrendered. Despite still feeling buzzed, you clocked a momentary conversation between Steven and an alter in the mirror above the sink. Whatever they said to one another, it prompted Steven to add, “You’re very confident about having us all wrapped around your little finger, aren't you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you parried, meeting your husband’s gaze in the mirror. “Especially when I still probably have some of your cum inside me.”

“Esposita está tan descarada esta noche,” Jake pushed forward to remark.

“Soy--no...estoy un poco borracha todavía,” you confessed. As if your husband needed more proof the wine continued to affect you, you announced out of seemingly nowhere, “I need to say night-night to Ny-Ny.”

Steven intervened, catching you when you tried to bolt from the bathroom. “Darling, you can see her on the monitor. Don't wake her up.”

“Don’t tell me when I can see my baby,” you countered with sudden defensiveness that only surfaces when one’s a bit blitzed. You wriggled out of his grasp, “I’ll be quiet.”

You tipsily tip-toed down the hall to Nyla’s nursery, making good on your promise and not causing your daughter to stir at all as you crept to watch her slumber.

It wasn’t as if you wanted to pick her up or play with her, you just couldn’t fathom going to bed without bidding Nyla goodnight. Your eyes studied the little miracle before you. Her plump little feet that you could never pepper with enough kisses, the curve of her lips that must have been painted on her face by a Renaissance master, those insanely long, dark eyelashes she inherited from her father. There were no words, and never would be, to accurately describe the love you had for your daughter.

You silently blew a kiss in her direction, and found Steven in the doorway when you turned to retreat. While you were kind of peeved that he felt the need to supervise you, you weren't that drunk (you were), you pressed yourself into his warm, sturdy side as you both returned to your bedroom.

“She’s just more beautiful than I ever dreamed she’d be,” you whispered reverently.

“I know,” Steven agreed in a murmur as he guided you back to bed. “We’re the two luckiest people alive. Now let’s go to sleep, love.”

A/N: Yayyy we made it! True life: I’m Emma and Marnie IRL. Also are long, sappy afterglows my thing now? Can’t thank everyone enough for getting me to 500, playing with me and requesting these fics, waiting the approximately 98 years it took for me to fill them!! 

ESPECIALLY since in the meantime, I now have over 900 followers which is just bonkers!!!!! BONKERS I TELL YOU! I don’t think I’ll do another prompt celebration like I did for 500 if I reach 1k, but something special will come down the pipeline for sure! Love you all so much and again, from the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU! 

Translations: 

Vamos - Let’s go/Come on  

Te gusta nena? - You like it babe? 

Esposita está tan descarada esta noche - Wifey is so cheeky tonight 

Estoy un poco borracha todavía - I’m still a little drunk 

Taglist: @twwcs​, @rmoonstoner​, @hot-mess-express1​, @murdickdocked, @toracainz​, @saahmi​, @unspokenmoon​, @winterbiipp​, @avatarofseshat​ @ilikeoldermenhelp, @losers-club6​, @harrys-tittie​, @ninebluehearts​, @lucianadraven32​, @dawnsutopia​, @strawberry1042-blog @nikitawolfxo​, @weirdo125 @damnzelsoul​ @missmarmaladeth @welcometostayingawake​

#moon knight #moon knight smut #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant x female reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x female!oc #steven grant x you #steven grant smut #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #oscar isaac #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac x you #moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #bit-dodgy's 500 follower celebration #bit dodgy's 500 follower celebration

[happilyfeatherafter]

Happilyfeatherafter’s ficrec Fridays

Back back back again, and I don't know guys, I think we should all just totally stab Caesar! Welcome back to a new fortnight of fics that I’ve read and loved recently.

If you want to find more you can see my previous rec lists here!

15 March 2024

Are You Writing From the Heart? by  @luckshiptoshore is now complete!! Congrats Luck! Full disclosure, Luck is one of my very best friends, but that just means I know not only how much of a talented fic writer she is, but also how much of her heart and soul she poured into writing this love letter to queer storytelling, season 4 Destiel as a romcom, meta text (and subtext), and finding out who you really are when society and your upbringing is fighting against you. Castiel is a ghostwriter for L.S. Shore's Supernatural novels about Neal and his brother. Caught in a storytelling rut, Cas finds himself adding the fallen angel character of Bel...what could possible go wrong? Meanwhile at his local writing coffee shop spot, he meets the handsome stranger Dean who is an up and coming standup comedian and Supernatural fanboy. They because firm friends, but that's definitely it because Cas is straight....right?! Following these two dummies as they FAIL TO USE THEIR WORDS is a total joy, as Luck's humorous and emotional writing paired with her eye for detail is so very on point, and I'm so excited more people will finally get to read this story in full.

Baker Six by komodobits because !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I cannot tell you how goddamn excited I was to get this email notification and finally be back in 91w world, and to witness these early stages of Dean and Cas' relationship through Dean's eyes at last. This barely needs a rec because it's THEE 91w Dean, but komodobits hasn't missed a beat in getting back inside their heads and I was once again swept away by this iconic love story against the odds. Head the trigger warnings as always, this is truly on the front lines as a medic in a war zone. Baker Six was written for the very good cause of the fandom Palestine fundraiser, in support of the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund. Please donate if you can!

Truth & despair by @shallowseeker was a recent discovery and such a fascinating read! It's set in a post-15x18 verse, but importantly it features a fun Sam narrative perspective that delights in his lens by...being a bit of an unsympathetic oblivious dummy (affectionate). I really appreciate a crunchy Sam characterisation and oooboy does this pay off. Dean is steeped in his grief for Cas, and Sam is oh so concerned. He reaches out to Mia Vallens to understand his own grieving, and that leads to him making a discovery...Dean's memories of Cas' death aren't what he claims happened. With the unwelcome reappearance of Chuck (he lost...didn't he?) and LITERAL sinkholes appearing in the fabric of the universe, can they figure out what's happening to save Cas and save the world? This wip plays with physics, theology and narrative fuckery in such intriguing ways. I can't wait to see how it wraps up in the next two chapters.

The Leap by @friendofcarlotta started reading this one when Tina reshared it on Leap Day...because of course. I'd actually read it before but it more than lived up to the reread. 'Castiel Krushnic is a police officer in Soviet-occupied East Berlin. He is also gay, in a city where that’s a dangerous thing to be. One night, he meets Dean Winchester, a mechanic from the American sector. Their mutual attraction is instant, and a convenient hookup quickly turns into a passionate love affair that defies all rules and expectations.' Meticulously researched, emotional, heartrending and thought provoking. I highly recommend taking the leap on this fic!

See you in two weeks and OMG it's @deancaspinefest time!!!! I'm so excited *clears calendar*

Tag list under the cut - let me know if you'd like to be added to be notified of future recs!

@dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you

#happilyfeatherafter ficrec friday #destiel #ficrec #destiel fic

[shallowseeker]

Sometimes, I obsess over season 5-6, because...from Dean's POV, Cas just upped n' left.

And there's just...so much stuff in 6x01. His neighbor Sid haunts me.

Dean is grieving and prickly, and he sits with Cas in the silence for hours as they drive together.

But then: Cas likes being called Heaven's new sheriff, and he's leaving, and--

So, Dean's ugly hurt feelings come out, and--

DEAN: Wow. God gives you a brand-new, shiny set of wings, and suddenly you're his bitch again. ... DEAN: Well, you really suck at goodbyes, you know that?

Cas struggles for words, licking his lips nervously, not entirely sure what's he done to upset Dean so badly. (He was trying to be funny, be lighthearted and indulge Dean’s “sheriff” talk!)

Aside// I love how freely they talk here. Very quickly, they move into an emotionally charged conversation. Dean freely releases his true feelings about the situation, something he will soon have to bottle up in suburbia.

///

I'm not special. I'm not even a friend. The Apocalypse is over, and Heaven's done with me. Cas is done with me. I lost Sam. That was the mission my father gave me. I want to die. There's no purpose left in my life.

///

And then, we move to Dean in early season 6, and we see him spending a lot of time with his neighbor, Sid, who shifts from moment to moment, representing everything from Dean’s old life. (Sam, Bobby, John, Cas--all rolled into one.)

And Sid seems genuinely nice. He and the neighbors seem to tiptoe around Dean, alerting Lisa of his mental state, as if they know he's emotionally fragile.

Dean even looks out across the street into Sid’s window, like he’s looking in on their married life. Perhaps, he’s wishing they were his mom and dad, or Sam n’ Jess, or Bobby n’ Karen—because in being in suburbia, he feels sundered from his extended family.

Dean seems to feel like an outsider. (It’s strange, too, like he might even be longing for what Sid and his wife have with each other??? We get Sid buying Dean beer followed by Sid bringing his wife a glass of wine. He loves Lisa. He wants to be connected, but he’s struggling.)

And here, in the bar scene, Sid’s wearing a dressy button-down. SID: "I've been buying you beers for a year:" -- SID: "You're practically respectable." -- SID: "Wow! Every time. What is it with you?" -- DEAN: "It's like chicks dig unavailable guys."

This is not just about the waitress who scribbled her number on Dean's receipt. It's about Dean himself.

He digs unavailable guys. He's missing his old life, his family, his brother, and...the unavailable soldier, Cas.

It calls to mind Dean’s later lamentation to Cas, “I was there. Where were you?”

///

Later in the episode, the manifestation of his subconscious refers to Cas as "sugar."

Azazel: Yeah, kiddo. The big daddy brought your pal Cas back, right? So why not me? Add a little spice to all that -- that sugar. DEAN shoots AZAZEL.

///

And then, when Sam returns, Dean is chomping at the bit for news of Cas:

Dean: What do you mean you don't know? Sam: I mean, no idea. I-I'm just back. Dean: Well, was it God, or -- or -- or Cas? I mean, does Cas know anything about it? Sam: You tell me. I've been calling. Cas hasn't answered my prayers. I don't even know where he is.

///

Poor Dean.

At home, he's hypervigilant, checking everything, and staring out across the yard at Sid and his wife, which shifts to become echoey specter of John and Mary, as they die.

Sid brings his wife a glass of wine, a bit of a higher-class parallel to how Carmen brings Dean beer in season 2’s What is and Should Never Be. (Also, Sid was buying Dean alcohol earlier. Now, he treats his wife.) They smile at one another, and then the djinn strikes.

Sid grabs a CHAIR on his way down. His wife grabs a LAMP. "Dean, they're already dead and you know it."

There's just something about it.

His old life and longings are reflected in this Sid character, morphing from moment to moment. He feels disconnected--he misses Bobby, he missed his little brother, he wants a friend who's unavailable, and he wants his mom and dad to be safe and alive and happy. He wants an integrated life.

This strange, incomplete happiness feels like exile.

#spn 6x01 #spn exile on main street #dean + beautiful loser #spn 5x22 #spn swan song

[only-angel-28]

1999, part two

oh my gosh this ones a long one im sorry💀💀

i hope you like it and lmk if i should change anything/parts you liked!!

warnings: swearing, shitty boyfriends, angst

1999, part one

1999, part three

1999, part four

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ ༝

*ding dong*

I hopped up off the couch with a huge grin on my face and rushed to the door.

“Hey!” Dean laughed as I all but jumped on him laughing myself, “Hey, I’ve missed you!” I say.

Dean has been a family friend for a decade now at least. We've always been best friends and mostly everyone at school thought that we were dating long before we actually were which is why it was strange that my family would find me and Dean dating, ‘a joke’. I remember when I had first told them and they straight up laughed in my face. After that interesting conversation, Belly and I had another one in our room.

“Are you sure about him? I mean Dean’s nice but…”

“But what?” I asked

“But he's just not… I don't know I wouldn't have expected you to go after some perfect guy like Dean, I didn't think that was your type.”

What Belly had said had me thinking and overthinking for weeks after.

“M’sorry I’m late…” Dean smiled apologetically at me, “Traffic was shitty.”

“No worries, you made it just in time for the bonfire. Belly and the boys already left to set it up about an hour ago so it should be in full swing by now.” I smiled up at him with my arms wrapped around his neck as he pecked my nose and muttered a simple “okay.”.

We make our way to the beach in Dean’s jeep and arrive at the bonfire in about fifteen minutes.

“Can you see them anywhere?” I ask Dean as we look out at the huge group of tipsy teenagers trying to make out any figures that we recognise.

“Uhmm…yeah, right there!” he says pointing far off in the distance to what looks Belly and Steven, already fighting.

We make our way down and meet Belly and Steven focused on a game of beer pong. God, I haven't seen them that focused since…to be honest I don't think I've ever seen them this focused.

“Huge bets must be on the table otherwise there's no way these two crackheads would be this focused,” I say to Dean. His reply gets cut short by a voice saying,

“Sure as hell are, they’re debating what we all should do tomorrow; surfing or shopping”.

“Oh! Dean this is Thérèse! And this is Jere” I say smiling at my childhood friends.

After a couple of ‘hey how’s it going’s are exchanged, they all end up joining Steven and Belly’s surf or shop debate. Thérèse doesn’t even look at me when I try talking to her and I only get one-word sentences as answers.

Thérèse and I have been friends almost as long as Belly and Taylor. We were really close as children but grew apart as she lived here in Cousins and Belly, Taylor and I didn't. We still kept in touch and tried to call each other as often as we could, she knew everything about me. Things got weird when I told her about me and Dean. She didn't call me, left me on delivered or read and just stopped talking to me altogether.

I hang around them for a bit until I get uncomfortable and decide to take a walk.

“Hey I’m gonna go for a walk, okay?” I say to the group. 

A couple of ‘yeah sure have fun’s are heard until Dean speaks up.

“What? Why would you wanna do that?” he runs a hand through his hair but refuses to look at me and focuses on the beer pong instead.

“I don't know I'm bored I wanna go for a walk?” I say back, surprised at his weird behaviour.

He looks at me as if I just grew two heads and says, “Well then if you didn't want to spend time with me why did you invite me here in the first place?” 

“Dean calm down it's not that big of a deal it's just a walk,” I say raising my arms up in defence.

Why was he being so weird?

“Dean it's okay just let her go.” Thérèse smiles at Dean.

“Fine. Whatever. Do whatever you want.” he runs a hand through his brown hair again and focuses on his beer pong shot again.

Belly, Jere and I share confused looks before I turn around to walk, Steven being too occupied cracking jokes with Dean and some girls around them to notice a thing.

I need to clear my head.

I walk until I'm far from anyone at the party and sit down on the sand, looking out at the sea.

It starts to get windy so I tuck my knees against my chest and stare out to the ocean, trying not to think of anything, or anyone for that matter.

But trying not to think about it just makes me think harder.

Why was Dean being like this?

All weird and controlling…

And what’s up with Thérèse?

I've apologised countless times and I don't even know what I did wrong…

“Here.” A voice breaks the soft gusts of wind and soothing crashes of the water against the sand. And my thoughts.

I look up and see Conrad looking down at me with his hand stretched out in offer of the faded red zip-up he's holding.

I tilt my head to him in question.

“You look cold.” he says looking at my arms covered in goosebumps.

“Oh…thanks.” I laugh softly accepting the hoodie and putting it on being engulfed in his cologne. I pat the sand next to me and offer for him to sit.

He sits next to me in silence as I put my head on his shoulder, both of us staring out to the water.

“How’s Susannah? I didn't get to talk to her much before mom stole her away.”

Conrad and I softly laugh as he says, “She's doing good. Cancer’s almost gone.” he says, putting a smile on both our faces.

We sit there for a while in silence, letting the crashes of the waves and the gentle breeze of the wind calm us down from all the commotion going on in the distance.

“Hey Con?” I ask softly.

“Hm?” he gently hums back.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

There's a short pause before Conrad takes a breath in and says “Yes, Of course. I'm fine.” he says with a smile, but the shakiness in his exhale tells me otherwise.

“Are you sure?” I press on trying to get him to break so he can tell me what's wrong.

Another pause.

He turns to me and smiles and says, “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

Before I can respond, he reaches his hand out, tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear and looks at my eyes.

Some say the eyes are the windows to the soul. In Conrad’s case, they might as well be holding up big bright signs that say how he's really feeling.

Conrad might be able to put up a happy façade in front of anyone but three people.

Susannah

My mom

Me.

If his body language doesn't say anything then his eyes do, they always do.

And right now his eyes looked glassy. Soft. Hurt.

“Con…” I start to say until my voice gets interrupted by another much deeper and louder one.

“Y/N!!” Steven runs up to us, “Oh hey Conrad good thing you’re here too, GUESS WHAT?”, he screams in front of us.

“Ugh, Steven stop screaming my head hurts.” I mumble as Conrad asks “What?”

“WE’RE SURFING TOMORROW YEAHHH!!” he roars happily

“I’m guessing you won beer pong?” I say.

“Hell yeah, Belly and Dean ate my dust!” he boasts

Jeremiah and Belly had caught up with him now and sat alongside Conrad and me as Steven tried reenacting his win.

“So how’d he actually win? He couldn’t have done it himself, guys drunk as shit.”, Conrad says laughing along with us as Steven trips over his own feet.

“I helped him.” Jere says in a low voice not to take Stevens's joy of his delusions away.

“Hey where’s Dean?” I ask Belly as Steven finishes his (horrible) acting and sits with us exchanging embarrassing stories of me and Belly with Conrad and Jeremiah.

“Uhm, I’m not too sure I think he said he was going to go look for you after we finished. Thérèse said she’d help.”

Thats weird.

Steven had already found me and he could’ve just called me if he was worried?

And why would Thérèse want to help? last I checked she hates me.

Whatever.

“I’m gonna go find him.” I said, getting up and brushing the sand off my legs.

Conrad looks up at me as I leave. His eyes don’t leave my back as I walk away and I can feel them slowly burning a hole through my back to my heart.

I take my phone out of my back pocket and call Dean.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three…

Four…

Five…

I hang up.

I try calling him again.

One…two…three…four…

I see Dean’s jeep in the distance and what looks like to be him in it. I keep trying to call him to see if he’ll pick up.

I run to the car, open the door and say, “Hey why aren’t you-”

I get cut off as tears fill my eyes and hurt fills my heart.

Dean’s phone is on the passenger seat constantly vibrating as he’s in the driver making out with Thérèse.

“What the fuck Dean?!” I shout as Dean and Thérèse finally break away from eating each other's faces.

Ew.

“Oh! Uhm…hey babe! Thérèse and I were just talking…” he slurs as Thérèse puts her arms around him and starts kissing his neck.

“Thérèse what the fuck get off him!” I say blinking back my tears refusing to cry in front of them.

“Why should I? I’m a better kisser anyway. Did you really think Dean came all the way down to Cousins to visit you?” she says with a sick smile as she spreads her lipstick around Dean’s neck and collar.

“You know what forget it. You two assholes deserve each other. Don’t bother to come back in the house to get all your stuff Dean, it’ll be out on the front yard.

I turn away before they get a chance to see my tears and walk down to Conrad’s car.

I take my phone in my hand and shakily call Conrad after blocking Dean and Thérèse off everything.

“Hey where are you?” he answers.

“Connie can you…can you drive me home please?” I say sniffling.

“What? Where are you? What’s wrong” he says in an alarmed voice and I can hear him getting off the sand and telling the others he was going to take me home.

“Just…Please drive me home Con…” I say desperately.

“Okay yeah sure, where are you y/n?” he asks in a more controlled voice.

“I’m next to your car.” I say sniffling again.

“Alright y/n/n I’m nearly there, don’t go anywhere okay?”

“Okay.”

Two minutes later and Conrad finds me leaning on his car. He comes up to me and immerses me in his arms, softly shushing me as I sob in his chest.

“Shhh.” he tries to soothe me and runs his hands through my hair.

“Come on. Let’s go home.” he kisses the top of my head as my cries die down and opens the car door for me.

The drive home is almost silent except for the faint noise of the radio playing and my sniffles. Conrad reaches out and holds my hand in a red light. I look at him and he softly smiles in assurance.

When we finally reach home I go straight to my room ignoring Mom and Susannah’s calls of worry. I sob into my pillows as I hear them knocking on the door.

“Y/n honey? What’s wrong can we come in?” they ask. I love them to death but I don't want them right now.

I want Conrad. I need Conrad. I always have.

It's as if they can hear my thoughts because in two seconds Conrad opens the door, comes straight in and sits on my bed next to me.

He doesn’t say anything but brushes the hair out of my face looking at me sadly.

“Wanna tell me what's wrong now? Laurel and Mom are worried sick, they might tear my head off if I go back out there without an answer.” he says quietly making me laugh a bit.

He wipes away my tears with his thumbs and says, “Hey where’s boy toy?”

I look up at him questioning, “Boy toy?”

“Yeah, that boyfriend of yours. Jere called him Boytoy he said he was kinda weird. Did he do something to you?”

I sniffle and silently pray that my voice doesn't give out as I speak, “He uhm…I went looking for him and I saw him with Thérèse they were uhm. They were making out in his car.” I tell him everything, how I found them, what I said, what they said, all while trying to blink back more tears and clearing my throat so it doesn't break anymore.

“That's fucked up I’m so sorry Y/n.” he says softly.

“Wait hang on, Thérèse? Wasn't she your best friend?” he looks at me with furrowed brows.

“I mean I thought she was but after I told her about Dean she just… I don't know she just switched up.”

“Doesn't matter about her she was always a toxic friend anyway. And this Dean seems like a pussy too. I’m sorry but I'm glad things are over with you two, Jere told me how he shouted at you on the beach earlier.”

“Yeah he was really insecure,” I laugh with Conrad. “He said he was jealous of you and Jere when I saw him the other day.”

“Then why are you crying lovie?” he says so softly I barely hear him.

“I don't know, I guess I'm not crying over him… I think I'm crying over the fact that no one really cares. I don't know it’s stupid.” I stare down at my hands, embarrassed by my choice of words.

Hold me close and say you care

‘Cause I'm in love with your brown hair

Conrad wraps his arms around me and puts one of his hands under my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

“I care.” he simply says. The look in his eyes could make my knees give out in a second if I wasn't already sitting down. I take a deep breath and try to brush his comment away. There's no way he can just

come back and say he cares when he hasn't bothered to answer my calls or read my texts in almost a year. There's no way I'm doing this again with him.

I try changing the subject by bringing my hand up to his hair and running my fingers through it.

“I love your hair Con.”

He gently takes my hand away from his hair and repeats himself.

“I care Y/n.” he says staring into my eyes. He lets go of my hand and brings his to the back of my neck leaning in close.

The way you touch me is a curse

And I'm not willing to let it all

Hurt

His lips brush against mine sending electric shocks through my body but I refuse to let it go any further. He doesn't get to do this.

I pull away from him as fast as I can and make distance between us.

Physical distance. Since he has the emotional distance covered I might as well take over and finish it with physical.

“No don’t do this Con.” I say shaking my head as I pace around the room blinking away more tears.

“Don’t do what?” he says confused by my actions.

“Don’t play dumb Conrad you know what I mean.”

“Y/n what are you talking about? I-I'm sorry I kissed you I just… I thought you liked me.”

“No Conrad don't.” I say looking up at him through glassy eyes, trying to shake away the anxiety slowly creeping up at me.

“Don't what?! Are you even going to tell me what I did wrong, can you just talk to me?!” he says angrily, standing up from the bed too now so we're both staring at each other from the ends of this room. This God-forsaken tiny room with the walls closing in.

“Can I talk to you?! Oh Conrad that's rich coming from you.” I sneer angrily at him.

How can he of all people say that to me?

“What the fuck are you talking about, what did I do?” he says, his voice growing louder with every word.

“What did you do?” I laugh, “No Conrad let's talk about what you didn’t do. You didn't answer my calls for a whole year, you didn't answer my texts for a whole year, you weren’t there when I needed you Con, you weren't there when mom and dad got divorced like you said you’d be, you completely ignored me for a whole fucking year Con you can't just make it all up by saying you care and kissing me, you can't do that Con not when I've always been there for you, not when I've always cared for you and loved you for this long Con you can’t, you can’t, you can’t!” I finish, out of breath as Conrad looks at me with a hurt expression on his face.

“I…” he starts off but I hold my hand up to him to tell him to stop talking.

I don't want to hear what he has to say, I can't. I close my eyes and say “Please just go away Conrad.”.

When I open my eyes again he's nodding, trying to hold back tears in his gorgeous blue eyes. I look away before a tear can fall from them.

One tear from his eyes, one word from his mouth and I know I’ll go running back to him. But I can't, I refuse to after how he hurt me.

Watch your mouth and wash with soap

'Cause I just hate the way you spoke

Green eyes make everything feel numb

And I'm not willing to give it all up

He closes the door silently behind him and I crash into my bed, sobbing into the jacket he gave me.

And I'm not wasting time again

Closure instead of sex

And I'm not wasting time again

You said I fucked up and ruined your life

But little did you know you ruined mine

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ ༝

well that was a journey🤡🤡

lmk what you think and please feel free to request anything on my bio even things for part three!! (no smut please)

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x y/n #fanfic #fics #tsitp #tsitp conrad #belly conklin #steven conklin #jeremiah fisher #the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher angst

[sorcharavenlock]

39. The Romance Festival.

Loki and I travel to the Romance Festival in San Myshuno. We are the first ones there. There is food and dancing, and a painting competition.

"Let's compete, it will be fun!" Loki already floats towards the easels. I shrug and follow. I'm not the best painter but I have nothing to lose, right?

We completely forget we are supposed to meet up with Kitty, Dean and Nea, who are running late.

"hey, you guys! I can't believe you started without us!" Nea's voice comes from behind me.

I turn around and my eyes nearly roll out of my head!

"Nea! Nea look behind you," I hiss.

Nea hadn't noticed Dean and Kitty kissing behind her.

"Well, that's new!" She grins.

"You didn't know either?" I ask curiously.

"I knew she liked him," Nea shrugs, "But I didn't know they were at te 'making out' stage!

"What ARE you painting?" Nea asks as she gets distracted by Loki's work. "Aren't you supposed to paint something romantic?"

"I think it is romantic!" Loki protests.

"It's a BEACH BALL!"

"It is a beach ball, which reminds me of the beach, which reminds me of Sulani, which, in my experience is the most romantic place on Midgard!" Loki turns bright pink.

"I think it's terribly romantic," I agree with him.

"You are both insane," Nea shakes her head.

Dean has made his way to the food stalls and Kitty comes jogging over to us.

"Kitty, were you and Dean kissing just now?" I ask.

"Yeah, is there something you need to tell us maybe?" Nea grins.

"it turns out Dean missed me when I was in Sulani," Kitty explains, smiling happily. "Really missed me! The moment I walked into the door he... well he kissed me and we haven't really stopped kissing since!"

I am so happy for her, and so is Nea. Even Loki seems to find it adorable.

"You like this Dean?" He asks Kitty. She nods with a blush.

"Then I am happy for you," Loki surprises Kitty with a hug. "And if he sets one foot wrong he will become intimately acquainted with my daggers," he whispers in Kitty's ear.

I decide to go and have a word with Dean myself.

"Hi, hello Dean, how are you?" I smile at him.

"Eh, fine, I guess," he answers a bit confused.

"I know at least twelve different ways to kill someone with a spoon," I say conversationally.

"That seems oddly specific," Dean frowns, "and a strange way to start a conversation."

"Break Kitty's heart or hurt one hair on her head, and you'll become familiar with at least a few of them," I say pleasantly. "I know you Winchester boys have a habit of returning from the dead. But I have a lot of spoons."

As far as threats go, it's probably not the best, but I've never been all that good at one-liners.

"Hey now, you listen to me! I like Kitty! I would never do anything to hurt her okay!" Dean protests. "Besides that, I can't see it being any of your business."

"Kitty is one of my two best friends, that MAKES it my business," I snap back.

Loki, in the meantime, sees me chatting with Dean and is reading the conversation I am having with Dean completely wrong. Only seeing my pleasant smile he suspects I am flirting with Dean and he flies into a rage!

Loki is quick to come over and starts picking a fight with Dean!

Kitty realises nothing good can come out of it and rings a cab, while I try to calm Loki down.

Loki is far too angry to listen.

"It wasn't like that Loki, I would never hurt you! I don't even like Dean! Besides that, even if I wasn't with you I'd never flirt with my best friend's boyfriend!" I try to explain.

I am starting to feel very tense as I try to find a way to diffuse the situation.

Nothing I say or do can get Loki to calm down or listen. Angrily he turns his back on me a makes his way to the paintings.

For a moment it looks like he is getting his temper under control...

"Loki!" I yell at him.

"Nea was right! It was a stupid painting anyway!"

"I was a fool for thinking for even one minute that you wouldn't betray me! You are just like the others!"

"Loki! Stop this! Destroying the festival will only draw unwanted attention! Do you WANT the Avengers to show up here? I DON'T like Dean, I wasn't flirting and to be honest you should know me better by now! You are being mean and horrible and it is not fair to anyone here!"

Loki deflates. Without a word, he floats towards the taxi rank.

"I'd better go," I say to Nea. "He can't leave without me. I'm so sorry it became such a mess."

"Are you okay?" Nea asks.

I look sadly in Loki's direction.

"I don't know. I hope we can fix this once he calms down a bit."

"Hey, if you need me, I'm only a call or a DM away," she says as she gives me a hug.

Loki doesn't say anything on the way home. He stares pointedly out of the window.

When we come home he disappears into the basement.

Neither of us had anything to eat all evening and I decide to make him some food as a peace offering. He must be hungry too!

Loki pretends to be asleep with his back towards me. I can see he is feeling blue.

I call his name a few times, but he ignores me. I leave the plate on the table for him, just in case.

That night, we both sleep alone...

#sorchasLP

[waitmyturtles]

Absolute Zero, episode 1 RANDOM THOUGHTS (more like FEELS and SQUEALS and HAPPY PIPS, here we go):

1) New Siwaj's latest prestige BL. Man, we've had some dips from him lately. I FAST-fast-forwarded through Between Us to get to the DeanPharm bits, and listen, I shoulda just listened to my friends (insert the Bugs Bunny "NO" gif here). And I have a pathetic love for Double Savage, a show that New Siwaj screenwrote and that aired earlier this year, for its POTENTIAL to tell an intergenerational familial trauma story headed by OhmPerth, but lord, it was a mess. At the same time, I have been impaled with a thirsty obsession over my watch and rewatch of New's Until We Meet Again, so with New going high for this latest show -- I have BIG expectations.

2) @bengiyo and @twig-tea (here and here) covered a TON of what I am thinking (and apologies to friends if you wrote AZ things yesterday and I missed them -- like @bengiyo, I would love to be tagged in your meta to track thoughts on this show!) (I think @troubled-mind is getting into this one, maybe we already have a little AZ squad going!). Further apologies and big ups to Ben and Twig if I repeat anything you say! Which I will, right now, repeating Ben's words:

3) FUCK if I didn't feel some nostalgia hearing Boy Sompob's voice again. I really do feel like this means that New is THROWING. DOWN. The music in this show is already fantastic. The music was SO IMPORTANT to the storytelling in UWMA, and I'm glad we're leading with it again here.

4) I am VERY PLEASED to see Mix Wanut (young Suansoon) holding down as a lead. We didn't see him too much as Don in UWMA, but: I thought his timing and comedy was particularly notable in UWMA (when Don was able to lighten up a bit near Dean, I thought it was really great).

5) Speaking of the actors. I'd like everyone to know (poor @neuroticbookworm and @lurkingshan have already heard me yelp on this). Teng Kanist, who plays the older Suansoon. He was fabulous as Nat in Gay OK Bangkok. Nat was a contradictory character, but let me be honest -- I felt a little symp for Nat because I like Teng's face. I admit it, I'm weak and transparent for dudes.

BUT: we all need to know that Teng Kanist IS ALSO A REAL-LIFE PASTRY CHEF who also GOES TO THE GYM. Therefore, we have a perfect man (for me lol) in our midst. Just need everyone to know! Croissants and abs and sets. SOLD!

6) Ahem, where was I. As an #old, seeing middle-aged dudes in a drama is what I need. I like that Absolute Zero is going to do this for us: to juxtapose the expected BL school scenes with two real adults in real adult settings. I love this. And I love that I know we are going to get more elders next week in What Did You Eat Yesterday?, and elder-ishes very soon in Cherry Magic Thailand and Cooking Crush. We need to age-diversify this field, and New is leading this season.

7) I love how fast we needed to get to young Suansoon and young Ongsa getting together. From the MDL description of the show, it looks like Absolute Zero may have a similar structure to UWMA. UWMA was like a three-part series: the first part being Dean and Pharm getting together; the second being their discovering their spiritual pasts through their shared inherited memories and meeting their families; and the third being the conclusion with their resolving Korn and Intouch's forced separation at death.

If Absolute Zero follows a similar structure in a shorter episode span (right now, MDL shows AZ having 12 episodes, as compared to UWMA's 17 episodes), then I understand AZ needing to be a bit chop-chop about the romance. But I felt that this episode was still perfectly paced, and yes -- dropping the faen in the first episode could seem a touch fast, but I felt that we had convincingly spent intentional time with Suansoon's loneliness to understand why he would have said yes to Ongsa. (And, anyway -- of course, we needed to know that they got together, because we time-jumped to their loving adult relationship.)

And I loved young Ongsa's approach. A guy looking and chasing after his crush. The romance of buying tickets to a movie, hoping the guy he likes will show up. Giving Suansoon a birthday bracelet at the movie. Holding Suansoon's hand and asking him the big question.

Man.... ahhhh. What I loved about that bracelet scene is that -- the gift of that bracelet did a lot of the communicating from Ongsa to Suansoon without words. Suansoon was clearly touched and moved. The loss of his parents shakes him, but he clearly got a lovely moment of connection from that gift. Mix acted that part beautifully.

8) The Love of Siam. What can I fucking say. I haven't seen My Only 12%, where I know New makes another significant reference to LoS there. But, just. I'm very glad @bengiyo insisted on LoS being the start of the Old GMMTV Challenge, in part because of the references to LoS in other Thai BLs over the course of the genre's short history, but also -- the tragedy of that movie communicates SO MUCH when it is present as a reference in another piece. Just like the bracelet communicates so much by way of love. I love that we got to see the pre-ending credits quote. I love that New's communicating to us through this brilliant movie.

I am sure I can find more to gush on, but let me stop here, because this got longer than I expected. I can't manage a full load of dramas, so I'll likely be dropping my thirst-watch of Dangerous Romance to accommodate AZ and WDYEY. Just like I am praying for Tee Bundit to not drop the ball on I Feel You Linger in the Air -- let us hope New can also keep the juggle up on AZ. He started this out STRONG. I HAVE HIGH HOPES.

#absolute zero #absolute zero the series #new siwaj #tor supakorn #mix wanut #teng kanist #toey puwanat #suansoon x ongsa #ongsa x suansoon #that'll probably get shortened to soon right #we will see #absolute zero meta

[mychemicalimagines]

Can’t Stop Lovin’ You-Dean Winchester-Chap 5

Summary: Dean Winchester and Michaela ‘Mickey’ Storm have been friends for as long as they can remember. When they were 4 years old, Dean’s mom and Mickey’s parents were killed. Since then, John Winchester took his kids and Mickey around the states, hunting the Supernatural. 22 years later, it’s just Dean and Mickey against the world, both the natural and the supernatural. John goes missing after a hunting trip goes awry while Sam’s away at college, set on being a lawyer. This is Dean and Mickey’s story as they embark on a trip to find the one man they know as Dad. Saving People. Hunting Things. The Family Business.

Series Warning: Language, Fluff, Love, Smut, Death, Blood, Violence, Supernatural, Paranormal, Established Relationship. If I forgot any, all the warnings from the show apply to this series as well.

Words: 4,520

A/N: Here’s a chapter to hold you guys over! We really didn’t like this episodes too much so we decided to put them all into one and give a summarized version of what would have happened! We are currently writing Bugs so hopefully we can get it out soon!

No Gifs! Do you guys want them for this series?!

To be tagged: Comment, Message Me, Submit an Ask or Tag Yourself in my Bio! 

Bloody Mary, Skin, and Hook Man

Third Person POV

Just over a month and a half after the case in Pennsylvania, and several other, low-scale hunts, the Winchester trio caught wind of a case that really piqued their interest in late January. After all, everyone knows of the age old, urban legend surrounding Bloody Mary. The one that goes if a person goes into a bathroom at night, with the lights off, and says “Bloody Mary” three times, the spirit will appear and kill you by first gouging out your eyes. 

Now, having grown up as a Hunter, and years of reading all sorts of lore on different spirits, demons, and supernatural entities in general, the Winchesters knew that there was a chance the way things played out could be slightly different than what all of the various versions of lores said. Which seemed like this case may just have been a very real possibility of actually being Bloody Mary.

 After all, what had started out as a simple game of truth or dare between three high school girls ended up with the tragic death of the one girl’s father. Reading over the gruesome details of the father’s death, Sam knew that there wasn’t remotely normal about a man’s eyes liquifying in his skull and bleeding out from that, despite the press’ attempt at trying to pass it off as a fluke case of spontaneous combustion.

So, of course, when Sam found a story from a newspaper clipping that seemed to be the urban legend becoming reality, he knew that it was a case right up the Winchester’s alley. Once he had shown the article to both his brother and Mickey, the three of them headed to Toledo, Ohio and then to Fort Wayne, Indiana to crack the case, with one of Sam’s nightmares about the death of his girlfriend happening during the drive, one that he refused to talk about.

It was in Toledo, Ohio that the Winchesters found out that the tragic death of Steven Shoemaker came as a result of a “Bloody Mary” dare that had gone wrong. It took a hefty bribe to get the morgue attendant to even let them look at the body, confirming the thought that there was no logical or possible way for this man to have died of spontaneous combustion, considering that Mr. Shoemaker’s skull was filled with blood and his eyes were truly liquified.

Despite not having a clear cause of death, but knowing that it was more than what a normal human could comprehend, the Three Musketeers, or rather Winchesters, attended both the eldest Shoemaker’s funeral and his home shortly after. One thing that the youngest daughter said piqued all three of the Hunters’ interest, and it certainly wasn’t her blaming herself for her father’s death.

At least, not entirely. But, rather, it was the reason as to why she blamed herself. After finding out about the dare to ‘release’ Bloody Mary, the brothers and Mickey set out on a search for clues, while also being as discreet and respectful as they could be. It didn’t take the trio long to determine that there was indeed something suspicious about the death of Steven Shoemaker, and Mickey gave Charlie, one of the best friends of the late man’s oldest daughter,  her phone number with the message to call if she thought of anything helpful.

Sure enough, Charlie gave Mickey a ring later that evening after having been on the phone with her other friend, Jill, when she too had tried to ‘summon’ Bloody Mary in her own mirror, as a joke, and died before she got the chance to hang up. Upon investigating Jill’s bedroom, and the mirror in question, Mickey found a clue that would crack the case wide open, revealing a connection, not to the classic lore, but rather to a far more tragic, human mistake.

Gary Bryman. The young boy that Jill had killed in a hit and run with her vehicle. Finding this clue led the Winchesters back to the Shoemaker household, and more specifically Mr. Shoemaker’s bedroom, based on a hunch that Sam had. His gut feelings paid off when they found the name of Mr. Shoemaker’s late wife scrawled on the mirror.

It didn’t take long to figure out the widow’s wife had died under suspicious circumstances, labeled as a sleeping pill overdose. And, it took even less time for Mickey to offer up the suggestion that Linda Shoemaker hadn’t died accidently, but rather that her husband had killed her and made it look like an accident. 

Now, there was a connection, and a strong lead. The Winchesters weren’t dealing with a childhood scary story to tell in the dark, but rather something more dangerous, and far more deadly: a vengeful spirit. However, Dean’s own gut instinct was telling him that there was still something about this case that involved a woman named Mary, blood, and a mirror.

As it turned out, and much to the disappointment of the brothers and Mickey, the case actually had nothing to do with the Bloody Mary lore and much more to do with just a vengeful spirit. While the case may not have turned out to be what any of them were expecting or hoping for, there was one good thing to come from the month in general. 

And that…that was Mickey winning the race against Sam in high heels and getting dibs on the front seat for the entire month, much to Sam’s surprise. 

Flashback

“I’m telling you, Dean, this will be the easiest race of my entire life!” Sam says, stretching out his legs.

“I’m not so sure, Sammy.” Dean leans against the front of the Impala, his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. “I told you, Mickey is fast.”

“She may be fast in her sneakers but in heels? I bet that day in Pennsylvania was a fluke because the alarm was going off.” The youngest shakes his head. 

Before he can speak once again, the sound of click-clacks are heard. Sam looks up to see Mickey walking toward him, the heels from the last hunt on her feet. She has a large smirk on her face as she fixes her gym shorts.

“Ready to lose, Winchester?”

“You’ll be the one losing, Storm.” He playfully rolls his eyes.

“You already lost, Sammy.”

“Alright, alright.” Dean chuckles, putting his hands out. “The rule is: No pushing each other. Sam doesn’t need to break a nail. I’m going to stand in the middle of the parking lot while you guys stand by that light post over there. The first one to smack my hand is the winner. Do you guys remember what your prize is?”

“The front seat.” Mickey glances at her best friend with a smile.

“You gotta stop being all lovey.” He rolls his eyes before smirking again. “I also keep my seat without complaints.”

“Great!” Dean rubs his hands together as he walks over to the middle of the parking lot. “Get moving.”

Mickey grins and starts walking to the light post, clicky clacks following her again. Sam shakes his head and follows her after slipping off his jacket to lay on the hood of the car. They both make it and turn toward the eldest Winchester. 

“Ready?!” Dean calls out.

“Yep!” Mickey answers, getting into her running stance before whispering. “You’re going down.”

Sam rolls his eyes, getting into his own stance. “You wish.”

The eldest Winchester begins to count down from three before throwing his hands out with a chant of ‘Go!’. Both Sam and Mickey take off like a bullet out of a gun, the latter’s hair whipping in the wind but that doesn’t slow her down. Despite the youngest having longer legs, he was no match for the female and her heels. 

When they were about twenty-five feet from the eldest Winchester, Mickey sped up, making it to her boyfriend first. She smacks his hand, slowing down behind him, her heels skidding across the asphalt. A few seconds later, Sam smacks his other hand, his eyes widening slightly. When he stops a few spaces behind his brother, he looks at her, slightly out of breath.

“How…what…the hell…”

“I tried to tell you, Sammy.” Dean turns around, grinning at his younger brother.

“But…She…heels.”

“Girl’s superpower.” Mickey giggles, still out of breath.

“Damn it.” He says, moving his hair from his face. 

The eldest Winchester wraps his arm around his girlfriend’s waist, a proud smile on his face.

Flashback Over

Sam was slightly upset, losing his seat for a whole month. He felt so cramped in the back, often moving around so he could get comfortable. He timed it to the day, making sure she got out of the seat as soon as he could. Another good thing that had also happened in that month was celebrating Dean’s 27th birthday, an occasion that they were actually able to celebrate with all three of them being together for the first time in years.

A little over a month later, at the end of February and the beginning of March, the three of them found themselves in St. Louis, Missouri. And it wasn’t because of St. Louis’ famous ribs, much to the disappointment of Dean and Mickey. The real reason they were in town was due to one of Sam’s old college friends, Rebecca “Becky” Warren, saying that her brother, Zach Warren, was framed for the murder of his girlfriend, Emily.

While at first this may not have seemed like it would be one of the normal cases the Winchesters - or any Hunter for that matter - would take, it didn’t take long for them to realize that they weren’t dealing with a typical, human homicide, but rather a shapeshifter case. At first, the whole thing seemed iffy, especially since Sam’s old college friend claimed that her brother had been with her at the time of the murder, and it’s impossible to be in two places at once.

This was no Harry Potter movie.

Shortly after their arrival in the city often referred to as the Gateway to the West, there was another murder, and just like with Sam’s friend, the suspect in the second case claimed to have been in two places at once. It wasn’t until the shapeshifter had taken on Mickey as a disguise to trick the boys, did the trio realize just what they were dealing with. 

 Following the case of the second murder, the trio ended up getting separated around the second victim’s apartment building. All when the three of them followed a bloody trail that led into the sewers. While they were down there, they found the evidence they needed that proved that they were dealing with a shapeshifter. 

When the shifter attacked the three of them and ran off, they all ran after it, but ended up getting lost in the maze that was the sewers underneath the city. Mickey and Dean continued searching the tunnels, and Sam went back above ground, knowing he’d meet up with his brother and Mickey at the Impala. 

Plus, this would give the youngest brother a chance to regroup, get weapons, and possibly even confirm his suspicions about the shifter. Sure enough, as he was locking and loading up with one of his guns, Dean showed up. He freaked out for a solid five minutes when he found out Mickey wasn’t with his brother.

Flashback

“What do you mean she’s not up here?!” Dean says, running his fingers through his hair.

“I mean, I haven’t seen her since we separated. I thought she was with you.” He answers, closing the trunk of the car.

“Son of a bitch!” The eldest Winchester yells out slightly, quickly turning in circles, hoping to catch a glimpse of her somewhere.

“Maybe she's on her way back?”

“She better be. She knows to come back to the car if we separate.” He says, pacing back and forth.

“Of course I do.” Her voice is heard behind them.

Dean whips around to see his girlfriend, walking toward them, a small smile on her face. He immediately runs toward her and wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her close. His other hand comes up and cups the back of her head, holding her close to him as she wraps her arms around his waist.

“What happened down there? One minute you were next to me then the next you were gone?” He whispers.

“I heard a noise. I thought you heard me.” She whispers, hugging him close.

He pulls away and cups her cheek, looking into her hazel eyes for a moment.

“I guess not.” He whispers before speaking louder so Sam can hear him. “You think he found another way underground?”

“Probably.” Sam says, watching the two of them. 

Dean nods slightly before biting his lip, just staring at his girlfriend.

“Should we drive around, see if there are any more signs of him?” She asks, softly.

“That would be a good idea.” He answers.

“Can I drive?” Her eyes light up softly.

Without changing his expression, he nods softly. “Of course you can. Sam got the keys.”

She grins before rushing past him to the youngest Winchester. He opens the trunk again, allowing her to look through it to pick her weapon.

“Hey guys, didn’t dad once face a shapeshift in San Antonio?” He asks, glancing toward his older brother.

Dean approaches them and looks at his girlfriend, wanting her to answer. 

“Oh, that was Austin.” She answers, looking up from the trunk with a smile. “It turned out not to be a shapeshifter, it was a thought form. A psychic projection, remember?”

“Oh right.” Sam chuckles softly before tossing her the keys. “Here ya go.”

She catches the keys before looking back into the trunk when the brother’s make eye contact. Almost a second later,  the brothers bring up their guns, pointing it directly at the female.

“Don’t move.” Dean says, staring at her with a small glare

She turns and looks at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Dean, what’s going on?”

“What have you done with her?”

“It’s me, guys.” She giggles slightly.

“I don’t think so.” Sam says, never lowering his gun. 

“Where’s my girlfriend?” The eldest Winchester asks, his voice deepening to a growl.

“You’re about to shoot her, Dean. Calm down.” Her smile fades from her face.

“Mickey hates driving” He growls. “She only got her license because dad made her in case she needed to get away.”

“I just wanted to drive, babe. It’s not a big deal.” She rolls her eyes.

“She also knows the signals we have.” Dean continues.

“Now, where is Mickey?” Sam speaks up again. 

She turns toward him with a sigh. “I’m right here, Sam. Come on!”

“You’re not my girlfriend.” Dean snaps.

“Why don’t you pull the trigger, then?” She glances toward him, discreetly grabbing something from the trunk. “Hmm?”

The eldest Winchester just stares at her, glare clearly on his face. 

“It’s because you’re not sure.” She states, watching his hesitation.

Before either Winchester could blink, ‘Mickey’ cracks Dean in the face with the weapon she grabbed from the trunk. A crowbar. The eldest Winchester falls straight to the ground while Sam pulls the trigger of his gun. ‘Mickey’ crouches quickly, dodging the bullet before standing and cracking him in the face as well.  

‘She’ glances between both now knocked out men before cracking her neck with a grin, her eyes flashing silver for a moment.

Flashback Over

One thing that the brothers hadn’t accounted for, though, was them being knocked unconscious and taken hostage by the shapeshifter. After Sam had regained consciousness, he figured out that he and Dean were trapped down in the sewers. Nearly 10 minutes later, the brothers realized that Mickey was there too when she made a grunt of discomfort and woke up. 

The three of them talked things out, confirming with each other that they were dealing with and how to take care of it. Of course, things weren’t so easy for them. Not that they ever were. On top of the usual, supernatural related obstacles that they encountered on any given hunt, this one had an added one, from humans no less.

They had the FBI on their tails, and were wanting to charge them with a long list of crimes. Including charging Mickey with the brutal attack of Becky using jealousy and calling it a ‘crime of passion’ as the motive for the attack. See, when the shifter had assumed Mickey’s identity, claiming ‘She’s hot. Anyone would believe a hot woman’, it had been invited in, as Becky thought it was Mickey, another girl that she could talk to, and maybe get to know a little more about Sam, especially since he had left college so suddenly.

And the shifter, disguised as Mickey, had brutally attacked Becky, and only left her alive because the SWAT team showed up. While this had been going on, the Winchester trio had been tied up and trapped down in the shifter’s lair in the sewers. By the time they managed to escape, Mickey’s mugshot was plastered across every news station playing on TVs across the city.

They had made their way back to Becky’s house to try and figure out what had happened. Sam went inside, while Dean went to go get the Impala, never wanting to leave his Baby unattended for long, and Mickey ventured back into the sewer alone. Knowing that it would be in her best interest to stay below ground, out of sight from the FBI, she went to track the shapeshifting creature that had made her life a little tricky at the moment. 

The eldest Winchester hated splitting up, especially from his girlfriend but right now, it was needed. He knew it would not keep her safe from the shifter, but at least it would buy her enough time from having the FBI on her tail to figure out where the shifter was and come up with a way on how to take care of it.

It didn’t take Mickey long to find her way back to the shifter’s lair, and realize that it had now shifted and taken on Becky’s identity. Due to lack of cell service in the sewers, she was unable to call Sam who was still at his old college friend’s home. And she couldn’t even get in touch with Dean to try and get him to warn Sam.

Mickey knew that she would have to warn her boyfriend’s brother soon, and she had to be quick about it before the shifter could do any harm to the man that had become a younger brother to her over the years. She did the only thing left that she knew she could do and hightailed it out of the sewer tunnels and back to Becky’s house.

She had arrived, just in time, to see Dean shoot at the shapeshifter that had once again disguised itself as her, in an attempt to get it to stop attacking Sam. Watching him kill the shifter that looked like her briefly made her wonder if Dean was 100% certain that it wasn’t actually her before he pulled that trigger, or if it was proof that Dean truly would put protecting his baby brother above anything and anyone, no matter who or what it was.

She got her answer when she stepped into the room, met Dean’s gaze and he’d rushed over to her, glad to see she was unharmed in any way whatsoever. When the police had shown up, Mickey had hid in the Impala to keep up the ruse that she had ‘died’. Whatever story Sam had managed to concoct and spin to the cops had them pinning the murder of Zach Warren’s girlfriend, Emily, on her as well, leaving it as a closed case. 

As Dean drove away, with Mickey snuggled up to his side in the passenger seat, wanting to keep her close and Sam sprawled out as much as he could in the backseat, Mickey couldn’t help but joke about how she was missing the one funeral she’d ever be guaranteed to have. And both the brothers couldn’t get over how much they had a sudden disdain for pea soup.

Two weeks before Mickey’s 27th birthday at the end of March, the Winchester crew were called to Ankeny, Iowa to investigate a series of morally and religiously driven, supernatural related deaths. They knew they had to be the ones on this case because the only witness to the murder reported that the attacker was invisible. 

The witness had said that she was in the car with her boyfriend on 9 Mile Road when they heard loud scratching noises. Rich, the boyfriend, had gotten out to check what was going on when he suddenly disappeared from her view. Not even a second later, more scratching noises were heard before a couple loud bangs came from the roof of the car.

When both sounds ceased, she exited the car and began to run toward the wooded area. After getting a strange feeling in her gut, she turned around to find her boyfriend suspended from a tree upside down above the car, meaning he was the one who was making the noises attempting to get help. Needing to blend in, Sam and Dean walked into a fraternity house while Mickey joined the sorority nearby.

While the brothers were in their fraternity house where the victim lived, they found out he was seeing Lori, the daughter of Reverend Sorenson, meaning she was the one that was there that night. Mickey ended up meeting Lori at the sorority house and talked with her for a little bit learning their rooms were a few doors down from one another. 

She wanted to wait for Dean and Sam before asking any questions about the case, wanting to get on her good side first. Lori invited her to her father’s service later that day but before she could call her boyfriend and his brother, they were already there, waiting in the pews. After the service, Mickey introduced her new friend to the brothers, allowing them to start questioning her, but they didn’t get any useful information. 

The young girl believes she was just seeing things and that something else happened to her boyfriend. When Lori left, the trio talked about the case and decided that it sounds like the Hook Man Legend. Needing more information, they went straight to the library to research the case, knowing that the internet wouldn’t give them anything but ‘fake facts’.

In 1862, a preacher named Jacob Karns killed 13 sex workers using a hook he wore in place of the hand he lost in an accident. He was later arrested and executed. Wanting Mickey to stay close to town, in case of an emergency, the boys traveled to 9 Mile Road in search of the Hook Man but they were discovered by the sheriff, who arrested them. 

He wouldn’t allow them to have their one phone call so they weren’t even able to call the unofficial female Winchester. While Mickey was waiting for Lori, she didn’t realize there was another door to enter the building. She ended up falling asleep a few minutes after Lori already was in her room. 

A few minutes earlier, she got into a fight with her father about living in the sorority house, which blinded her. She went to her room and discovered a large scratch on the wall but didn’t think anything of it. She went to turn on the light but noticed Taylor, her roommate, was already asleep and decided to keep the light off. 

She got ready for bed and laid down, not noticing that Jacob Karns was in her closet. The next morning, she woke up and screamed loudly at the sight of Taylor’s bloody body with the words ‘Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn on the light?’ written in blood on the wall. Mickey immediately ran into the room, shocked by the discovery.  

After finally being able to call her, she went and picked up her boyfriend and ‘adopted’ little brother, taking them back to her dorm. With her help, they searched the entire room the best they could without being caught and discovered a cross symbol drawn in the blood that they recognize from their research.

 A little more research concluded that there were more killings in the area, also by clergymen. The three of them presumed that the spirit of Karns is latching onto the reverend’s repressed emotions and killing everyone he feels are immoral. They came up with the plan that Sam would stay and watch over Lori while the couple would go find Karns grave. 

Lori noticed Sam outside her father’s home and decided to talk to him. She reveals that she feels cursed and that she’s the reason that everyone was dying around her while revealing that her father was having an affair with a married woman. She ends up kissing him, which he does kiss her back but Jess runs through his head, forcing him back, informing her that he can’t do this.

Reverend Sorenson watched from the window and went outside to bring her back in but The Hook Man appeared behind him. He stabbed him with his hook and dragged him back inside the house. Sam ends up saving the Reverends life but the next day, the trio were bemused that burning the corpse didn’t stop Jacob from returning. 

Mickey revealed that the hook wasn’t buried with him, it was melted down and made into objects for the church. They rushed back to St. Barnabas Church in hopes of melting down the silver and finally putting an end to the Hook Man. When they entered the church, Sam found Lori sitting in a pew alone, crying. 

While Sam talked to her, Dean and Mickey rushed around, finding anything silver and burning it. Sam and Lori had an encounter with the Hook Man, which ended up with the Winchester being stabbed in the shoulder. Before the Jacob Karns can kill Lori, the couple showed up, with Dean shooting the ‘invisible man’. 

Confused as to why he was still around after they destroyed all the silver, Sam noticed Lori was wearing a silver necklace. ‘A church heirloom her father gave to her when she started school’, she informed them. He immediately ripped it off her neck and handed it to Mickey, knowing she’s the fastest.

Taking off like a bullet from a gun, she ran as fast as she could to the fire they had started. Back with the brothers and Lori, Karns tries to once again kill Lori, finally having her cornered. When he raised his arm, he froze in his spot, his hook began to melt before he disappeared for good. The next morning, Sam had to be patched up in an ambulance, not wanting to go to the Emergency Room. 

Lori made sure to thank him for saving her and her father. The couple watched from a distance, wishing Sam could have the happy ending he deserves.

#Supernatural Dean Winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester love story #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x original character #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester x original female character #Can't Stop Lovin' You

[ramcharantitties]

7 minutes

Sita's note- I deleted the earlier draft once so I will have to write again T-T. Also *gasp* sita used English title? Yes I did because I had this fic idea yesterday and my loveliest wife @rambheemlove helped me with it. The song 7 minutes by Dean Lewis went ironic with it. ALSO I tried to keep him in character but I'm sorry if I strayed out.

4 times you wanted to leave and 1 time you stayed.

----

"AKHTAR" Ram yelled his friend's name, who was nearing their house with a remorseful face on his bike. "Y/n, he-her bags are gone! She was here before I went to meet Babai. She is no where in the house or any places she would go to!" Ram was frantic, he was panicking, he was about to cry. But why was this affecting him? It's not like he loved y/n.

now I know how I let you down

"Anna" Akhtar grabbed ram's shoulders, and thought about your words. "Don't tell Ram, he won't notice anyways" Akhtar sighed thinking about what you said. But he looked at Ram. The desperation was vivid. And he had to tell Ram. "Whatever you said to her, she is gone now. I just dropped her to the Railway station"

I finally figured it out

Ram's world crashed down. He stood there, his heart in his stomach.

I forgot to love you.

You didn't want much in this forced marriage. You agreed to it, it's true. And you began to develop feelings for your husband too. But it appeared that he was becoming less human with you. Silent tears streamed down your cheek and you looked like as if a statue. As if the heat from his anger and your tears made you a rock. You wanted him to have dinner, that's all.

"Ram? Please have dinner" he didn't reply. He never did. "Ram?" Maybe he didn't hear the first time. "R-" "if someone isn't replying, dear wife, maybe try to leave them alone?" The golden eyes of sunshine became fire balls, the lips you wanted to touch spewed venom. Dear wife, you wished he called you that. Just not like this. No one had dinner that night.

You had one dream. To publish a book about how colonization wiped the Indian art, how you visibly saw the beauties of your country getting tarnished from white hands. And now here you were, your head in your hands as the publisher ridiculed it all to nothing. It was the 4th publisher now.

You looked at the clock, Ram should be home soon. You wiped your tears and got up, you were already late because of the visit. About 10 minutes later the front door opened, the footsteps fading towards the room. And then coming closer. You looked up to what he wanted, since he didn't really meet you after coming from work. "You didn't pick up the book I asked you to?" Ram asked and you stared at him dumbfounded. It slipped out of your mind, the book he gave for binding. Before you could say something, he stopped you. "What could be something so important that you forgot about it?" He left you alone with the question. Maybe Ram was right. It wasn't that important.

Everything you knew about your husband was from Babai. And you also knew that they have lived here for 4 years now, they must be missing their hometown. So you decided to make something that will remind them of their family, their village. Something to help their homesick heart.

When Babai tasted the dish, he couldn't help praising it. It was different, but better. You were sure that this could be something to bring Ram closer. "I made you something" you were nervous, as you neared him. "Keep it here" Ram replied, engrossed in his book. You kept the dish and covered it with a plate, excited. It was getting late already, so you decided to call it a day. When you woke up next morning, the dish was untouched and Ram had already left for work. You threw away the dish, but when Babai repeated the praises of your dish to Ram, he felt, weird.

Once again, Ram was denied the honor of what he deserved. Once again, being a traitor his own people and heart, following the white officials got him nothing. There was no surprise, but the disappointment set within. You knew how hard that would be, to do so much only to return bare handed.

You knocked on his door. Ram looked up at her for first time. "I know you are upset-" he didn't want consoling words. Ram wanted to focus harder on his goals, to get what he deserved. "-we should go out and" you couldn't even finish when he grabbed your shoulders, shaking your body. "Listen to me. I have nothing to do with you, so stop coming between my goal and my hardwork. I don't love you and I never will. So it's better if you leave"

You got on the train, standing by its door, leaving for your home city. His words still ringed in your head. Akhtar dropped you by the railway station, and you knew that he would go tell ram about you leaving. It didn't matter though, you knew Ram won't come here.

if i came back now, would you still be there?

You turned around, going to find your seat when you heard your name from a voice you knew so well. "Y/n!" He called out and you looked out to see Ram looking through windows and tearing the crowd. Ram looked anxious. Before you could think, you called for him.

if i come around, would you even care?

"Ram!" He heard your voice. Ram looked at you, leaning out the door of the train, your braid swinging. He ran to you and you stepped down. "What are you doing here?" You asked and Ram huffed. He held your hand in his and you were bewildered. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything but please, please don't leave" he said and you were taken aback.

is it too late to turn around?

The surprise was vivid on your face and his heart broke at the sight. Babai was right, he has been nothing but a jerk to you ever since you got married. "Ram, I need to leave" you muttered, tears streaming down. "Please no" he whispered, clutching your hand tighter.

im already halfway out of town

"Why do you have to go? You can't just run out of if your relationship gets bad!" He knew this was wrong as soon as your eyebrows furrowed. The train whistled. You snatched your hand from his and got on the train.

now i know how to let you down

"Ram I have nothing here! You don't love me, my dream was shattered into pieces and you don't even know what I could possibly be talking about! You weren't there with me to call it a relationship!" The train started to move and he walked with it.

i finally figured it out

"Y/n, please, give me one chance" he walked faster with the moving train. "Ram you will get hurt, leave!" You called out. "Please, Y/n, just once, and if not, then you can leave" Ram started to jog when he realized he was falling behind.

Please, please stop. Both of you wished the same thing. But it seemed like only one wished harder for it.

Ram saw your bag thrown out of the train. You raised your hand towards him and jumped when he caught it, before the train could gain anymore speed. Ram hugged you close, nuzzling his head in your neck. "I'm sorry, it will never happen now"

i forgot to love you.

tagging- @budugu @rambheemisgoated @thewinchestergirl1208 @shreyalokesh @bromance-minus-the-b @juhiiiiii @dumdaradumdaradum @chaanv @chaotic-moonlight @aasthuu @mish-ka @kashti15 @saanjh-sakhi @ronaldofandom @bishh-kanya @nyotamalfoy @obsessedtoafault @iamhereforthefanfics @maraudersbitchesassemble @phoenix666stuff @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @infusedchaos @army24--7 @iams99 @booksmartheart @rambheemlove @stuckyandlarrystuff @bitchy-bi-trash @moonyrox

#ram charan #ghungru #rrr #rrr movie #fanfic #desi tag #ram x reader #ram x wife!reader #7 minutes #dean lewis

[mittensmorgul]

Your posts about The Winchesters is making me consider getting involved in the community again. I'll be honest, SPN's finale hurt bad, and I haven't engaged in or even re-watched an episode of Supernatural in two years. It took a long time to appreciate the experience and not feel like i'd wasted YEARS being so invested in something that felt like a slap in the face at the end. I miss the community; I miss talking about it, being excited, etc. But I got in the SPN tags for the first time in two years today, and seeing Dean, Sam, and Cas's faces on my screen again felt like seeing old friends:'-)

Aw, heck, well... welcome back :')

I still haven't rewatched 15.20, and I don't know that I ever will. But for the first time since it aired, watching The Winchesters 1.13 actually... let me feel even a little bit okay about it.

When The Winchesters was first announced and we learned the premise of Dean telling the story to us, I was wary. If it had started off with "so I'm dead and in Heaven and learned this stuff..." I probably wouldn't have watched, just because of that. I do NOT wanna hear about Dead Dean. I still cannot reconcile the Dean in 15.20 with the Dean from the entire rest of the original series. 40 minutes of just completely erasing all character growth and then pinning him on a rusty receipt spike was NOT the culmination of 15 years of him struggling to be free, you know? I would've noped so hard on watching him tell stories from Heaven... I really didn't want to engage with more canon that insisted that travesty actually happened.

Many of us cling to our Chuck Won theories-- that Chuck's power transferring into Jack transformed Our Jack into some weird God-Chuck-The Sequel. That Chuck The Guy was just a puppet for the actual Cosmic Power and it still had its own agenda but now there was nothing for Dean to fight back against he just... gave in to its demands and played out the story Chuck had always wanted him to.

Detour time: I've spent the last few days (while being stupidly sick and not particularly coherent as a result... hooray cold medicine brain) trying to assemble all the times Chuck talked about his writing process, what he wanted from his story, and giving up quickly because it's just so much... but I recall him saying something to the effect of "that's where I went wrong, when I tried to write myself into the story." And I think that was his failsafe-- he spent all of s15 waiting for Jack to turn himself into The Perfect Receptacle for his power, to put on that little show on the beach and take on all his power so Sam and Dean would believe they'd actually won. Making everything that happened afterward just... them thinking they were making their own choices or whatever, when they'd completely dropped their guard and all Chuck had to do was throw the Random Bad Vampires at them that Becky complained about way back in 15.04. And they'd never see it coming.

So... Dean telling the story here? I still held out hope that it would take place BEFORE the events of 15.20, when he was alive, and that the goal was to tell a DIFFERENT story from the one Chuck wanted to tell.

But the way it was all set up in The Winchesters left us open to question everything we saw, everything we were being told by Dean as the story unfolded. We had to think about it week to week, and the payoff to that? That Dean has been dead and running out of Heaven specifically in search of a world where maybe his family actually had a chance to be happy? When he was supposedly in HEAVEN, also known as PARADISE, where everyone is supposed to finally find peace and happiness? Well, that right there SCREAMS "hey, so maybe paradise isn't what it's cracked up to be... maybe something is really, really wrong in Heaven, with "Jack," with the whole concept of "peace when we are done."

Dean... is still looking for something. Something is desperately missing. His whole family is supposedly in Heaven with him, and yet why is he running through the multiverse looking for something? What could be missing?

We were *told* in 15.20 that Cas was there in Heaven, but *we never saw him there.* We were *told* that Heaven was "fixed" and all was well there, but *we did not see any of that.*

What if something very much larger is very much not right, and Dean is still looking for something? He looked so dang sad in the Winchesters finale. SO dang sad. And he was very pointedly behaving very carefully toward Jack. Like he knows he's breaking rules, or possibly even testing boundaries a little bit here... and I like the wide open possibilities of what that could mean.

I really think Dean's role in The Winchesters is effectively wrapped up. I would love to see a continuation of the series just for the characters we've grown to love there. But I do firmly see it as its own thing, adjacent to Supernatural and built from it, but with the potential to be whatever it wants to be in the future, and I love the possibilities inherent in that.

But for Dean himself? He absolutely built a high dive platform for himself to dive back into his own story from here, and I would LOVE to watch that unfold, as well. And to me, that feels like Jensen's intent behind all of this.

Will it ever happen? Golly I sure hope so...

#the winchesters #spnwin s1 spoilers #spnwin 1.13

[sabraeal]

Seven Swipes for Shirayuki, Chapter 5

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki Trope Madness 2023, Semifinal #1: Bodyguard Crush

It’s not quite a scowl that scrunches the space between Ryuu’s eyebrows, but it’s a kissing cousin; frustration and fondness stirred together to make a cocktail of expression uniquely for her as he stares down at the request.

“She’s ten weeks.” His thumb idly taps the screen, thoughtful. “She’s already had one by now.”

“And she’s due to have one again at twelve, I know, but--” Shirayuki leans over his shoulder, tapping at the line that reads Hyperemesis Gravidarum: Active-- “you and I both know what this means.”

“One sac at seven weeks, one heartbeat.” A sigh saws out of him, his patience worn as thin as his sleeves at the elbow. “I know statistics too.”

“Seven week ultrasounds are notoriously inaccurate,” she scoffs, shifting her wait for the long haul. “There’s a reason half the doctors here don’t bother unless there’s complications. It’s fine enough to date a pregnancy, but even then...”

It’s impossible not to know the reputation Ryuu’s made himself in the ward-- a hardass, Obi’s so quick to remind her, proud-- but Shirayuki never really remembers it. At least, not until his shoulders set as stiff as the mattresses, expression as forbidden as any Haruka’s fixed on her. “Shirayuki--”

“You know I’m not implying technician error.” Not due to lack of skill, at least, though she doesn’t think he’d appreciate the distinction. “But pregnancy isn’t simple. There’s plenty of ways even the best tech could have missed something that early.”

He stares at her, an unmovable object. “I wouldn’t know.”

Good thing she’s got practice being an unstoppable force. “What could it hurt?”

“Nothing,” he admits, too easily. “Except that she had her last sonogram here. If I order another, I would be directly overturning the opinion of the last technician.”

“Ryuu.” Her hands hook on her hips, taking a breath to blunt her impatience. “We’re all professionals here. No one is going to take it personally if you check their work due to new information.”

He might an adult now, old enough to buy his own drinks at hospital happy hour, but his pout-- even as he tries to hide it behind the monitor-- is all teenager. “You can’t promise that. People are very erratic. The last thing I want to do is make enemies of--”

His train of thought stops dead on the track, attention fixed to a singular point on the screen.

“Never mind,” he says, opening the order. “I’ll do it.”

Shirayuki blinks. “Are you sure?”

“Sure,” he agrees, closing out the screen. “The queue’s full this morning, but I’ll see if someone can fit her in around the scheduled patients.”

“Ah, right, of course.” She grasps for something to say, something that isn’t what changed your mind, and settles on, “Thank you.”

He glances over the screen, mouth still stretched thin. “If it’s one sac, you won’t ask me again, right?”

“Er...” Shirayuki’s stared down deans and hospital board members alike, but Ryuu’s tone makes her falter, left-footed in face of his displeasure. That is, until his mouth twitches, straining against the angle of a smile.

“Right,” she says, flushed with pride. “I promise I’m not wasting your time, doctor.”

Ryuu ducks his head, making a show of crossing his t’s and dotting his i’s, but through that thick morass of curls, the tips of his ears are stained a painful pink. “Well, y-you don’t have to call me that.”

Ryuu’s hardly out of sight when Higata whistles, eyebrows hovering just under his hairline.“Well, well. Been a while since I’ve seen the Rules Lawyer handled so quick.”

Shirayuki’s not in the habit of scolding on the floor, but she clucks her tongue, disappointed. “That’s not fair. You know Ryuu just wants to be taken seriously. It’s hard to be the Attending when you’re practically the same age as the interns.”

“Of course I do.” All her worries are shunted off with a wave of his hand, someone else’s problem. “I’m just saying, he’s not going to make any friends if his back’s always up like that.”

Kazaha surfaces in her mind, unbidden. “Ah, yeah, that’s...possible.”

Higata hums at the precise pitch of mischief. “I wonder what made him change his tune, though? You know how he gets about imaging. Never likes to overturn anyone’s work.”

A dozen reasons crowd her mind: His best friend is a tech, and no one gives him any respect. He nearly mastered out of his degree entirely to join imaging so he could deal with computers instead of patients. He’s only here because Kirito told him he’d like to work under a doctor like him--

But logic turns to excuse the minute it leaves the mouth. Shirayuki knows that all too well.

“Let me just..” A few keystrokes-- and an interminable wait-- and Higata’s eyes bulge. “Oh.”

“Hm?” She leans over the station, craning her neck to get a glimpse. It’s the ultrasound, one sac and the barely-there beginnings of a baby, but more importantly:

Technician, it reads, Sisk, M.

She grimaces. “Ah.”

“Yeah, that’d do it.” A few more keystrokes, and it’s gone, Higata shooing her back patient-side. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure this goes through before I’m out the door. Whoever I hand the baton off to will make sure to sit on imaging until they send someone up. Last thing we need is the CEO of this place raising a stink.”

“Oh, there’s no need to--” Shirayuki blinks, blearily watching as he goes through the motions she used to know so well. “You’re on nights.”

He hikes his brows at her, the way he always did when she���d been on shift too long; a silent, maybe you should be using the on-call room.

“Ah, right, you’ve been with me...the whole night...” she murmurs, wishing she had enough sleep for that to be an inside thought. “And if Ryuu’s here...as the day shift...then...”

“Then that means you’ll probably miss me, so long as America’s Sweetheart can keep some crackers down.” There’s no one who can wear mischief the way Obi does, like it’s a design suit tailored to fit every curve, but when Higata glances up from his station, a corner of his mouth quirked-- he comes close. “Unless she’s impressed by my dedication and debonair smile. Then maybe we might be coworkers again.”

Her own smile takes a similar slant. “That’s not a bad idea. I could use another set of hands. And I’m pretty sure that pool house could fit half the ward.”

Higata snorts, shaking his head. “Don’t let that mutt of yours hear that. He’ll be giving me grief for weeks about elbowing in on your love nest.”

She knows all it does is muddy the high ground, but Shirayuki’s been up too many consecutive hours to even try to stifle her sigh. “That isn’t what it’s like between me and--”

“It’d be nice to get back on days,” he murmurs wistfully, ignoring her. Typical. “The quiet’s nice, sure, but it’s hell on the social life.”

“Oh?” It’d never been easy to give up her daylight hours, especially when she’d lived at a latitude where she could get to her shift when the sun went down and still have night to burn twelve hours later. But socially...? “Are they?”

Higata stares at her, the way Obi does when she mentions she’s never seen a Marvel movie. “Shirayuki, are you--?” He shakes his head. “Right, of course. You probably wouldn’t have noticed with that VIP you were dating. Guys like him don’t wake up before noon.”

It’s habit to get her hackles up, to mount a high horse and ride to his defense. All her excuses marshal themselves in her mouth, ready to deploy at first breath: celebrities have a different schedule, most of their days don’t really start until after six, it’s hard to balance a nine-to-five company with a position that relies on hobnobbing after hours--

But she swallows them down, trying not to taste the bitter. That’s not her job not anymore.

And clearly, a voice that sounds far to wry to be her own hums in her ears, the left hand never really knew what the right was doing anyway, hm?

“Guess it’s good you make your own hours now, Ms. Private Practice.” Higata’s brows waggled far too suggestively. “You’ll need to be keeping the same hours as the rest of the plebs if you’re going back into the dating pool.”

There’s too much to take in there, too much that makes the static in her brain sound like screaming, and all she can do is blurt out, “Doctor.”

“Oh, forgive me,” he drawls. “Doctor Private Practice.”

Her problem is typically too many words, all of them trying to jostle out her mouth at once, but right now--

Right now, they’ve all abandoned her.

“I just...” She licks her lips; just one night of recycled air and already they dried, ready to crack. “Did I say I was going to...to be dating again? Or did someone else--?”

“Nah. You’re just a cute girl in a city with the largest amount of singles per mile. I figured you’d just jump back in the pool.” He slants her a sly look. “I mean, after the way you handled 2203 a few weeks, I figured...”

(”Good morning!” Shirayuki hums as she reaches for the chart. A the corner of the screen, the time flashes: 3:31, too early. “Technically. I’m Dr. Lyon, the OB on shift tonight. Can I just get your name and date of birth?”

“Amaryllis Elise.” The girl practically blends in with the sheets, her knuckles clenched so tight over her belly Shirayuki could use them for anatomy models. “April fifth, 1999.”

Shirayuki tries not to choke. Ninety-nine. The chart said the patient was twenty-four, but, ah, she hadn’t know they made twenty-four so young nowadays.

“Is this your first baby?” she asks, keying in her login. The monitor spikes as she types, BPM 120 flashing on the screen, poised like a breath before a scream. With practiced flick of the wrist, she mutes it before it starts. An alarm’s the last thing this girls needs going off right now. “Are you nervous?”

“It’s just-- is everything okay?” Fear makes her eyes wide and watery, flinching as Shirayuki’s fingers key in her data. “I had...there was some blood, right after they found the heartbeat, but they told me that was normal. But now it’s the third trimester, and that’s-- that’s bad right? Something’s wrong.”

The monitor spikes up to 125. Somewhere done the hall, the nurse’s station blares with it. That’s the worst part of being patient-side, really: no privacy.

“Not necessarily.” With a few short strokes, the wait list for imaging rolls across the screen. NEXT IN QUEUE: 2203, it promises. Cold comfort, when every minute without answers would be agony. “Most pregnancies that make it to third term are going to make it all the way to full.”

“But it’s so much blood.” The girl practically disappears beneath that johnny, her voice so small she can hardly hear it over the ward’s mechanical hum. “Did I do something wrong? I thought...I was being so careful. I don’t even eat deli meats...”

It’s hard to toe the line between lie and comfort; Kazaha would tell her, just say what they want to hear, it’s better then them getting hysterical on you. He’s backed up by a set of guidelines as thick as her wrist, all advising that she prioritize keeping the patient calm over keeping the patient informed, right down to suggesting it’s kinder to suggest a chemical pregnancy over a miscarriage.

Sometimes, Opa would tell her, tinkering with the old Ford in the garage, people think so much about what’s easy and safe, they forget it can be cruel.

Shirayuki pulls her hands from the keyboard, fixing her gaze right to where the girl lays huddled in the bed. “It’s always scary to see blood. And it’s even scarier because it’s taken so seriously, especially this late in the game, right?”

She nods, her hair getting even more tangled on the pillow.

“But the truth is, there’s so much that could be going on in there, and most of it just means we has to reassess our timetable for your pregnancy.” It’s Oma that Shirayuki summons up now, hoping her smile radiates even a fraction of the warmth she remembers. “I know you can’t help but worry, but I promise: it’s far more likely that you’ll both be fine.”

The girl considers that, fingers splayed over her belly. “But someone has to be unlucky, don’t they? That’s how statistics work.”

Shirayuki smothers a frown. “Did you say you has someone coming? Your--” she glances over at the screen-- “boyfriend?”

“No.” She shrinks under the sheets, looking younger by the second. “He doesn’t have enough PTO to cover something like this and still be at the birth. And my mom--” she grimaces-- “my mom would not be helpful right now.”

“Then here.” The rooms in this ward are huge, private, and thankfully full to the brim with comfy chairs. Shirayuki steps out, hooking ankle around one to catch her as she sits. “I’ll wait with you.”

The girl goes bloodless. “Oh, god. That’s bad, isn’t it?”

Shiaryuki blinks. “Excuse me?”

“You want to wait with me.” A trembling hand drapes over her ashen face. “That means you think I’m going to lose the baby, right? That’s it’s something so terrible, I can’t be--”

“No! No.” A laugh escapes her, breathless. “That’s not it at all. I just...I know when I’m left waiting, I convince myself of all sorts of terrible things. When I was doing my rotation in Infectious Disease, I coughed in the shower and convinced myself I had pertussis for the whole night.”

There’s no hint the girl’s heard her, but her BPM drops, just a bit.

“That’s the worst part about being a doctor,” Shirayuki confides, leaning close. “You know all the things that can go wrong.”

Beneath her hand, there’s the faintest hint of a smile. “I just have an over-active imagination and WebMD.”

Shirayuki lets herself take a page out of Obi’s book, letting half her mouth slant into a rueful grin. “Lucky.”

The smallest, thinnest giggle spools out of the girl, there and gone before she knows it.

“But seriously,” she says, letting her smile rest at its usual angles. “There’s no secret hint that’s something wrong. I promise, I’m only here because I don’t have anything better to do, and I hate waiting alone.”)

“2203?” Shirayuki frowns, confused. “What does that have to do w-with dating?”

Higata sighs, stretching as he gets to his feet. “I’m not talking about dating. I’m talking about the other stuff. That you, you know, could have some of that in the cards for you.”

It’s not often that she experiences déjà vu, and certainly not for a phrase like, “Having a luteal cyst?”

Obi’s typically the on on the other end of Higata flattest, most unimpressed glares, but today he saves one just for her. “Let’s be real, Shirayuki. Statistics say you’ve already had one.” 

Ah, well. He does have her there.

Higata waves his hand, annoyed. “But I’m not talking about that. I meant the other thing.”

She blinks. “What other thing?”

“Oh, c’mon, Shirayuki,” he sighs. “The baby.”

(The girl nods. “Do you...do you think it’s okay? The baby, I mean.”

Shirayuki takes a deep breath. “I think you’ve done the right thing, coming here. And that’s all you can expect yourself to do.”

There’s a little more color in her now, no longer stark white but an ashen sort of tan. “Do you have kids?”

It’s hardly the first time she’s been asked, but still, it catches her left-footed. “Ah, no. Not right now. I’m not-- it hasn’t been the right time.”

Between medical school, family death, residency, and Izana, there’s barely been time to breathe, let alone think about something like-- like that, but that’s hardly something she needs to bring up with a patient. Especially when Obi could be lurking around the corner, ready to seize on any tender feeling and discuss it down to the bones.

“Oh.” Dark eyes round, pretty now that they’re not glassy with fear. “You’re so good at this, I would have guessed you had a bunch. You’re like, mom-material. You know, warm, I guess.”

Now it’s time for Shirayuki to stare, her hands limp where they lay on her lap.

“T-thank you.” It’s silly how much it means to her, being warm. That even for one minute, someone could feel about her the way she does about Oma. “I’d like to, probably. Maybe in a couple years, it’d be nice...”)

There’s no reason for that to make her flush, for her to feel like she’s stripped her naked on the maternity floor. But she does, crossing her arms over her chest as she murmurs, “I m-meant if Zen and I-- if we ever--”

She shakes herself. “I don’t need to date for that anyway! I could just adopt. Or do IVF if I could get the time off.”

Higata huffs, brows lifting straight to his hairline. “Or you could look around and see there’s a perfect sperm donor right--”

“Hey, Miss.” A paper cup slips into her hand, warm where it’s cradled between her palms. She barely has time to appreciate it before Obi slides up to the nurse station, splaying an arm across it like he owns the place. “Hello, nurse.”

Ah, there’s a flat look. “Oh, you’re still here.”

Obi presses a hand to his chest, rumpling the silk tie hung loose around his neck. Framed by his fingers like it is, it’s impossible not to notice the dubiously professional amount of tentacles on it. A gift from Suzu, if she was going to risk a guess. “As if I’d stray from Miss’s side.”

Higata’s mouth quivers. “Well I suppose if you’ve got to have a dog, it might as well be a loyal one.”

“Woof woof,” Obi agrees with a grin, and honestly, she’ll never quite understand how stand around and insult each other is the basis for a friendship, but somehow these two have made it work despite six years and three thousand miles between them. “Heading out already?”

“Turns out there is sleep for the wicked, so long as they’re unionized.” Higata leans down to close out his station, tension falling from him with a sigh. “I just have to get through shift changeover, and then I’m out. I better not see hide nor hair of either of you when I get back tonight.”

“No problem,” Obi promises. “I plan to wear out our welcome by noon.”

Higata’s barely turned the corner when Obi leans in, grinning as he tells her, “Eighteen.”

Shirayuki blinks. “What?”

“Eighteen,” he repeats giddily. “That’s the number of hours you’ve been a free agent.”

It takes her a whole minute to parse his meaning, staring into his broad teeth the entire time. Goodness, she really needs to check out the on-call. “I already told you, that was over a week ago.”

“Sure, sure.” He waves a hand, unconvinced. “Whatever you say, Miss.”

Most days, she would happily admit to enjoying her bodyguard’s company, but today-- well, if she has to go through another round of assessing how daddy anyone in her acquaintance is, today will not be one of them. “If you don’t believe me, I don’t know why--”

“I do.” He says it earnestly enough that it draws her up short. “But the timing’s not the point though.”

“It’s not?”

“No. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been.” She’s almost touched, until he yanks his phone out of his pocket, brandishing it menacingly. “It’s time for you to rebound.”

“Oh.” She squints, recognizing the logo before her eyes can parse the word. “T...inder?”

That grin of his widens, just an inch short of being Cheshire.

“Oh! You-- you kept that?”

He scoffs, one finger flicking across the page. “What, like I would delete this carefully crafted profile? Painstakingly created by yours truly, just for such an august occasion--?”

“You should have,” she squeaks, heat flooding her face. To think, he kept that all these years-- “Give that to me!”

Her hand snaps out, trying to knock it from his loose grip, but even with the element of surprise, Obi’s too quick for her. With the sort of grace only cats and former hitmen have, he slides it right out from under her fingers, hovering barely an inch away.

“Now, Miss,” he admonishes, his grin giving away that he loves the chase. “That’s not very nice.”

She leaps again, stepping so close her shoulder bumps into his sternum, but this time he lifts it, giving the phone a little wiggle above his head. “I was in a-- a relationship! What if Zen had found--?”

“Then I think the bigger question would be why bossman was--”

She jumps, fingers just brushing the bottom of the case, but it’s too high. And when she comes back down, well--

Obi’s arm clenches around her waist, holding her steady. “Careful there, Miss,” he breathes, wide-eyed. “Last thing I need to explain to His Majesty is why Doctor Humpty Dumpty can’t put his personal physician back together again.”

Braced against his chest, she can feel his heart race beneath her palm. “Fine. But you’ll delete that won’t you?”

The weight slung around her waist disappears as if it was never there in the first place. “Aw, but why? This is the perfect time to--”

“Ah.” A soft, masculine cough cuts through Obi’s theatrics. “I’m sorry to interrupt. I just, er...”

Shirayuki looks up, right into a dark pair of eyes that would be right at home on a golden retriever. An anxious one. “Oh, I’m sorry, can I help you?”

“Ah, yes, I was just wondering...” He can’t be much older than her-- the perfect first-time dad age, Obi had said once, mostly to needle her-- his hair blond and tousled the way everyone’s is out here. “My father was checked in here last night.”

“Your father?” A nurse wheels a woman behind him, belly so distended Shirayuki’s half afraid she’ll tip right out. “Here?”

“Ah, yeah, I think I wrote down the wrong room number?” His fingers tremble where they splay on the desk, like he’s trying his hardest not to drum them. “Do you think you could, um...?”

That’s, apparently, all the words he has. They just run out as he stands there, his mouth still moving but only air coming out.

With this little sleep, she has to admit, it’s kind of charming. “I’m not the nurse, but--”

“Oh!” A flush flares at the collar of his v-neck. “Oh, sorry, I just assumed, since you were here... and the scrubs...?”

She catches her laugh before it can escape containment. “No, no. I’m a doctor.”

“Oh,” he moans, mortified. “I’m sorry. That was-- I’m really-- ugh--”

“Not here though. Private.” If she were Obi she’d lean in a little, giving him a sly wink, but instead she settles on her warmest smile. “But I do know some people on the inside. Let me get someone to look that up for you.”

“Ah...” On anyone else, that toss of his hair would seem confident, but on him it’s just nervous, like a horse after a lightning strike. “That’s really...I mean, that would be great. Thank you.”

It’s an effort not to giggle, but she manages to ask, “Name?”

“Oh!” He clears his throat, blush working its way up to his ears. “It’s, um. Yuuta.”

#obiyukimadness23 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #seven suitors #seven swipes #my fic #bodyguard crush #ans #you know for a fic that is supposed to be about obi's crush he is featured very little this time around #but you all know. it's there. SIMMERING. as he suffers #i can tell i was tired of writing this draft now that i'm editing #because i was just like. idk. she jumps for the phone. yuuta's here too #and so all my first round edits were like. MAKE THIS CUTE AND SEXY. ALSO YUUTA IS A GOLDEN RETRIEVER #i'm so happy i'm finally gonna be able to reference sarah's little drabble she did like YEARS back #...and also that i'm getting to the actual suitor portion of this fic. rather than sad break up times

[hoffmannwrites]

On My List

1  - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 + 1 Masterlist

Author’s Note: Hello, little gay people in my phone!! This is probably my favorite part so far just because it's like so very on brand for them and also we get a little bit of Steve being eye candy and Eddie being a sexy mechanic and I just love them!

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Description: 5 Times Steve and Eddie kiss as friends, and one time they don't.

Warnings/Tags: Everyone lives, Nobody dies, 5+1, Kissing, Fluff, Idiots to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, some pretty brief mentions for drinking, smoking, uhhh they're gay your honor, no beta we die like Barb, very vague sexy talk (like pg-13 mention of pulling the padge), call him Daddy but in a friendly way ya know, let me know if I missed anything?

Drive

Wayne had a saying while Eddie was growing up. Well, actually, Wayne had a lot of sayings. But one of Eddie’s favorites was “first time is an accident, second time is a coincidence, and third time is a hobby”. For weeks, Eddie ponders what a fourth time is. Because him and Steve have had their mouths on each other four times now and he had no goddamn idea what that meant. Obviously, Steve wasn’t, like, homophobic. He was Robin’s biggest support and he’s never freaked out after any of the times he and Eddie…But the metal head can’t help but wonder what that means. He’s never actually come out or said anything even remotely close to liking a boy. Straight until proven guilty, Eddie liked to believe. Had his heart toyed with by experimenting and down-low boys too many times to give anyone the benefit of the doubt. So Eddie doesn’t say anything- convinces himself that this is just Harrington being comfortable in his masculinity and sexuality. Self-assured enough to know that kissing his guy friend every once in a while isn’t gay, it’s just dudes being bros.

And they were bros! So much so that when Steve’s BMW breaks down around the corner from his own home, that Eddie is the person he calls to help. Steve jogs the block and a half back home and calls two people in quick succession. First is Robin, to let her know that he can’t make it in because something is wrong with his car (“Did you get a flat? Why don’t you know how to fix a flat?” “No, Robs. It’s not that. Yes, I’m sure. No really, I can’t just drive it anyway because it’s fucking smoking.”) Robin agrees to cover for him, but makes the vague threat of him owing her big time. They both know it’s unnecessary because he would do anything for her in a heartbeat regardless.

Second, he calls Eddie. Because Eddie knows about cars. If he can hot-wire a trailer, he can take a look at a smoking BMW. So Eddie drives over and meets Steve around the corner, where he’s sitting on the curb enjoying the unseasonably warm weather. He’s practically sunbathing in his stupid tight acid wash jeans and white tee with the sleeves cuffed and sun glasses on, smoking a cigarette. He looks like an 80’s James Dean but with somehow better hair, Eddie thinks. He rolls down the window of the van and shouts out “Hey! I’m looking for a damsel in distress? About yea high, prettiest hazel eyes you’ve ever seen, and no clue how cars work?”

“Ha-Ha, you’re hilarious, Munson,” Steve replies dryly, as Eddie parks the van right in front of the BMW on the side of the road. He gets out and walks over to the beemer to pop the hood. "So you really think I have pretty eyes?" Steve asks while Eddie sets up the hood strut. But Eddie just clears his throat and hopes the blush on his cheeks isn't noticeable. “So you said it was smoking?” He inquires.

“Yeah it just started to smoke, so I panicked and pulled over immediately,” Harrington explains. “Ah,” Eddie nods in acknowledgement. “Good thing too. I’ve got good news and bad news. Bad news is, this” he says dramatically while pulling out a thin black belt from under the hood into the air, complete with frayed ends, “is not supposed to look like that.” Steve’s eyes go wide, automatically freaking out a little because that looks really bad. But before he can completely shit himself, Eddie continues. “Good news is, I can fix it and it’ll only take me about an hour once we get the part.”

“Oh thank Jesus,” Steve let’s out the breath he was holding.

“Not Jesus. Just little ol' me,” smiles Eddie. “However I have been told the resemblance is striking. I think it’s the hair.” He gestures to the van. “Hop in, let’s go get Daddy a new belt, huh?” He doesn’t miss the way Steve’s face heats up at the nickname, but chalks it up to regular embarrassment. Once they’re both in the car and Steve is sure he locked the beemer for the 4th time, they’re on their way to the nearest Northern Automotive. Eddie doesn’t even blast the radio too loud or anything. “Hey, do you need to me to drop you off? Like you were obviously going somewhere so, I can take you if you need and then just fix it on my own,” Eddie offers, realizing this is probably not how Steve wants to spend his day.

“Oh. No. I already called out of work and it’s a Wednesday, so it’s gonna be dead anyway. Honestly, I could use the break and it’s goddamn gorgeous out today, so I don’t mind. Thanks for asking, though. Are you sure you’re okay spending the day fixing my car?” Steve asks, suddenly aware that he never really asked Eddie to fix it, just take a look and the metal head just lept into action.

“Oh yeah, it’s fine. I was actually super busy smoking weed by myself, jerking off, and watching M.A.S.H. reruns, but it’s alright I guess I can reschedule those super important plans,” Eddie dramatically sighs. Steve smiles wide. “Good to know that you jerk off before watching M.A.S.H. I’d be totally concerned if that was what got you going.”

“Actually, Stevie, I’ll have you know that Alan Alda gets me all kinds of hot and bothered, thank you very much.” 

By the time they have arrived back at the car, the sun is hot in the middle of the sky. They got the new belt needed and some Burger King and a case of beer on their way back too, at Steve’s insistence. He tried to offer Eddie money for fixing the car, but the makeshift mechanic refused. “You literally saved my life. I can fix your car,” he had said, blankly, but Steve decided he could at least feed him. Eddie had scarfed down his Whopper on the way back, and got started on the car immediately.

Steve tried to be helpful, handing over a wrench or a beer every now and then. He even gave Eddie a hair tie to put up all those beautiful curls. Mostly though, Steve just watched. Watched Eddie’s arms flex around metal. Watched his tongue stuck between his teeth while he looked at his work in concentration. Watched as his hairline dripped a fine line of sweat down the side of his neck, and disappeared under the collar of his Pantera t-shirt. Watched his ass and that stupid black hanky in his left pocket. Steve just watched Eddie work and thought about how he could get used to seeing the older man sweaty and dirty, as long as he wasn’t bleeding out like that time Steve saw him so filthy. Sure, they talked too, but Steve could barely pay attention to the conversation because he was so focused on just how fucking pretty Eddie looked.

Eventually, the belt was fixed and Eddie slammed down the hood, startling Steve out of his very unholy reverie about all the other ways to make Eddie sweat. “Alright, Big Boy. Let’s give her a test, make sure she starts up for ya nice, and drive her around the block a few times.” Steve jumped up from his spot on the curb and hopped in the drivers seat, put the key in the ignition and turned.

“Beautiful!” Eddie practically shouted, jumping in the passengers side as the car sprang to life perfectly. “Now let’s drive her around a little, make sure she’s all set.” Steve did as he was told and took the car around the neighborhood in complete silence, as Eddie made sure everything sounded, looked, and even smelled correct (“If it sounded wrong, I’d know it. If it smelled wrong, I’d know it. And if it started smoking again, I’d definitely know it,” he insisted).

They pulled back over to where Eddie’s van was. “Man, you have no idea how much I appreciate this,” Steve said when they were parked. “Seriously, I could kiss you right now.”

“Alright, if you insist,” Eddie replied with a theatrical eye roll. He pursed his lips and shut his eyes comically, expecting Steve to laugh him off and shove him away. Instead he felt two soft hands grab the side of his face and an even softer pair of lips on his own. And for just a second, in the silence of Steve Harrington’s BMW, Eddie felt like he was melting way more than he had standing out in the sun. Steve pulled away, hands still on his friends face. “You wouldn’t let me pay you, so that’ll have to do.”

You’d think that after weeks of overthinking the last four times this had happened that Eddie would have had anything worth while to say, that he would have seized the moment and asked Harrington just what the fuck was going on in his head. But he was Eddie Munson. So of course, he made a joke out of it. “I’m not sure what the exchange rate is on that right now, but I think we’re even,” he said feigning confidence, shifting his eyes as far away from Steve’s as possible, and scrambling out of the car as quickly as he could all while trying to not look suspicious. He held the door open and bid Steve good bye, “I won’t tell Robin that you can totally go to work now, by the way. See ya around, sweets.” And with that, Eddie was in his van and speeding away, blasting the radio by the time he got to the end of the block.

Steve had intended on asking Eddie to come back to his house for a while and maybe, finally, get somewhere with the metal head, after dancing around each other for so long, thought he had sealed it with today’s kiss. But Eddie had left so abruptly, that Steve didn’t even get the chance. Obviously, Eddie was totally freaked out by Harrington’s forwardness. He sighed loudly and cursed to himself, driving to Family Video anyway because he needed to talk to Robin. 

A/N:

Steve's car is a 1983 BMW 733i in Burgendrot-Metallic.

Apparently, the thing that holds up a cars hood is called a few things, mainly a hood prop or hood strut. From what I could find, BMW uses the phrase hood strut.

Also apparently, only a BMW motorcycle is called a Beemer, while the cars are "bimmers". But as both a person who has never heard that before, and a German speaker, I have decided that is fucking stupid and I won't be calling it that.

Once again, I don’t know shit about fuck about cars. I only know this because one time my serpentine belt broke. It’s a pretty quick fix if you know what you’re doing (allegedly) and you can drive short distances with a broken belt, but it’s not recommended. I have no idea if Steve’s car would be as easy to fix as mine was. Hell, his model might not even have a serpentine belt. Don’t know, don’t really care. I’m a fanfiction writer, not a mechanic. 

Northern Automotive was the most popular auto parts store in 1988 according to a news article I found on Reddit. I have never heard of this store, have no idea if they were in Indiana at the time (I mean, they should have been. Indiana is pretty fuckin Northern if you ask me) , and it looks like they either went out of business or rebranded to North Auto Parts at some point. Who’s to say? 

M.A.S.H. went off air in 1983, after 11 seasons in as many years. It’s a Korean War drama/comedy and it is one of the most amazing and heartfelt shows ever made. Eddie grew up watching it with Wayne and now he watches the reruns whenever they're on. I strongly recommend you watch it. 

I asked my mom what food she ate in the 80s. She said BK (like enthusiastically, too). Here we are. 

#Steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #Steve x eddie #Steve Harrington x Eddie munson #stranger things #fluff #hoffmannwrites #5 + 1 #5 + 1 fic #spin the bottle #everyone lives/nobody dies #they're gay your honor #idiots to lovers #friends to lovers #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction #new years eve fic #nye fic #nye kiss fic #on my list #little shop of horrors #idiots idiots idiots #steddie fluff #slow burn #mutual pining #mechanic eddie munson

[trannydean]

spn aus you say..... (please tell everything I am begging)

GIGGLING LIKE AN IDIOT!!!!! OKAY!!!!! warning this is a really long post kgjhjkgrjkd.

i've got 11 so far, but two of em (rvbnatural and spidernatural) barely have anything. rvbnatural is spn guys in the red vs. blue universe with dean, sam, and my oc jaime being a part of a special elite military project, similar to project freelancer in rvb. it's in the 2550s so it's set in same time frame as the halo games do. spidernatural is the spn guys in some sort of spiderverse, idk if it's like itsv/atsv or what, but it WAS inspired by atsv coming out. azazel is a spider demon guy wanting to take over the world with spider demon kids. he gives baby sam some spider demon blood and then little dean comes in and tries to protect him and he ends up bitten. both of them end up with spider powers and are spider-men.

but then i've got more in-depth aus! my most recent one is a modern au where jaime's family and dean's were next door neighbors for about their whole lives. jaime had to witness john abusing and neglecting his kids, and eventually he just decided he wasn't fucking having it anymore. he tricks john into coming into the woods and beats him to death with his baseball bat. garth is there and he helps bury the body.

john's sudden disappearance gets chalked up to be him going missing, sam and dean (and maybe adam, idk if he's gonna be here yet or not) go to live with bobby, and jaime thinks his problems are over. he and garth never speak of it again.

UNTIL several years later when some kids were digging around in the woods and they dug up john's body. it was obvious that john was murdered, his case is reopened. jaime becomes the main suspect. cas is going to be his defense lawyer.

there's my farmer au. sam and dean were born and raised on the winchester farm, being basically the only ones who worked there outside of their father. sam eventually goes to college, and john has to hire a farmhand. dunno who it is yet, but a few years later, that farmhand quit right before harvest time, so now it's just him and dean. he orders dean to make ads and put them up so that they can get a new farmhand.

enter jaime, who has just moved to their area of texas. he's never been living out of his guardians' house and though he thought moving across the state to be on his own was a good idea, he's sort of scrambling because he didn't have a real plan. he sees the ad and though he's never done farm work before, he has done manual labor and he figures he can pick up on this stuff fairly well.

plus, in exchange for working, he also gets to live in the farmhouse on the property, and he doesn't have to pay for food or rent (though he DOES get less pay due to this). he figures this is a pretty good deal, and ends up going to apply for the job. he gets it, despite the fact john doesn't like that he's kind of scrawny. (he reflects that dean's always been on the leaner side and he gets the job done "okay", and this is also the best he's got, so he has to go with it).

jaime and dean quickly become best friends--they're working together side-by-side almost all day, almost every day. come harvest time, dean and jaime are tasked with selling their crop at the farmer's market.

enter cas, the youngest of a wealthy family who has always been big buyers in the winchester crop. cas and dean have had fleeting encounters and both have a crush on each other tbh. jaime sees cas for the first time when cas comes to their stall on his first day at the farmer's market and definitely understands where dean was coming from.

next i've got my modern au that's got dean as a famous music artist. tbh i don't have so much for this one, but basically, dean is a music artist and he's been hitting a writer's block (or whatever you call it for songwriting) but something makes him remember his high school best friends/crushes (jaime and cas) and he ends up writing a song about them. and he doesn't use any pronouns in the song referring to them, and TECHNICALLY both "jaime" and "cas" can be considered gender neutral, so while the song is a huge hit once he releases it, there's also lots of discussion/controversy about it because "okay so are these two people girls or guys??? or one's a girl and one's a guy???" but it's funny because it's none of the above, jaime and cas are both non-binary. but anyways both jaime and cas end up hearing it on the radio and they're both like "oh my fuck he remembers me…"

and they've been living their separate lives far away from each other for many years but now they all begin reminiscing their high school "friendship" (they were all extremely gay for each other) and debate whether to try contacting each other again. i mean, dean wrote a song about them and it became a big hit and is currently being played all across the country right now. it would kinda make sense to do so. and they're all kinda missing each other, which they dismiss as nostalgia but it's really a lot more than that.

so jaime and cas find each other and then decide to attend to dean's next concert, bc he's on tour rn. they somehow get dean to notice them in the crowd (jaime's gonna do smth stupid prolly) and dean sees them and is SO HAPPY and he puts his whole pussy into that concert. and then they reunite and are all super happy to see each other again. and they can't just ignore dean's confession in the song.... they all end up getting together again, it's good.

next my merfolk au!!! MY FAVORITE HEHEHE!!! jaime and cas are two merpeople who live on the coast, next to an older fisherman's cabin owned by bobby. i'm not sure if in this au, merpeople are social beings in the way they live in pods or not, but either way, cas and jaime are rejected by basically anyone (cas is too weird, jaime is too aggressive (protective of cas!!!)) other than gabriel, who is cas' guardian, and then jaime's once he comes around (jaime's parents died, jaime ran (swam) away from the rest of his family and got lost, then found by cas).

dean has been visiting bobby's place since he was a little kid, and the first time jaime and cas saw him, they were instantly fascinated. they'd never seen a human their age before. jaime wanted to introduce themselves to dean but cas was shy and not ready so jaime was cool with that. they stuck to hanging out with bobby when sam and dean weren't there.

fast forward 15-20 some years. jaime gets captured by fishermen and sold to a freak show. cas comes up on land disguised as a human and begs dean for help (bobby's in town rn). it takes a while but with sam's help they're able to locate and rescue jaime. by this time, dean knows about cas and jaime being merpeople, and he's definitely awestruck by them when he sees them both in trueform. and they're both fascinated by him, which he finds embarrassing, because he doesn't believe beings so magnificent should find him, a measly human, fascinating.

then there's my dystopian/post-apocalypse au!!! cas lives in a glass-encased bunker that's been the "one safe place" since earth's nuclear fallout nearly 100 years before. dean and jaime are two people living outside the bunker, otherwise known as purgatory. jaime and dean have been best friends their whole lives and have gone through literally everything together--losing their parents, raising their little siblings (in jaime's case, cousin, but jackie has always been more like a sister to jaime rather than a cousin).

jaime, dean, sam, and jackie all go out searching for the bunker, wanting to see the real thing. they've heard stories about it, and the oldest people they've met remember being rejected from entering the bunker during the fallout due to the bunker being "too full". it takes years, but they do find it. cas sees them, and cas, who has been obsessed with learning all he can about purgatory for basically his whole life, is bursting with excitement about finding people on the outside.

chuck, cas' dad and the president of all the people in the bunker, is just SO MAD that his son found the outsiders before his people did. because see, ever since the higher-ups of the bunker realized there was still people surviving outside, they began to capture them, bring them secretly to secret labs, and basically experiment on them to find out how they can survive outside the bunker until they die. chuck did not stop this tradition when he became president and found out about all this.

so basically, chuck tries to find an excuse to get these four outsiders to "disappear" so that he can get them to his private labs to experiment on. there's a problem, because cas is attached to them, to two in particular really. and cas doesn't know about what chuck's doing--if he did, he wouldn't stand for it. so chuck has to try to do all he wants while keeping it hidden from cas. it doesn't end up working btw.

i've got my hunter!jaime au, which is basically what jaime's life would've been like if he'd grown up knowing about the supernatural. there is SO MUCH i have for it, i cannot put it all here, but i CAN make separate posts about it if you want me to!!!

i've got two soulmate aus--a soulmate tattoo au and a soulmate journal au. in the soulmate tat one, it's a lot like your usual au with this trope--you've got your soulmate's name tattooed to you somewhere. but sometimes, people are born with more than one name on them, or none at all, and those with more than one are mostly shunned by society, while those with none are pitied. jaime, cas, and dean all have two, ofc, and grow up with different reactions to it--jaime gets it an accepting family, though they're a little misguided in their support ("he's confused, but he's got the spirit" sort of deal). cas' is an outcast at school for it, and half his brothers despise him for it while the other half do their best to make sure he knows he's not alone. then dean gets the shittiest bit, with his godawful father hating him and definitely mistreating him for this. i'm using this au to be a thing in support of polyamorous and ace individuals, and i just hope i can do good with my representation.

then with the soulmate journal au, every baby has a journal pop up when they're born that they can use to communicate with their soulmate/s. jaime and cas talk with each other for several years and think only they are each other's soulmates, but dean is also their soulmate--john just confiscated his journal after mary died and never let him get a hold of it. however, jaime and cas fill up their initial journal and another one appears for each of them, and that ALSO makes another one appear to dean. he gets to write to his soulmates for the first time and it's a big whirlwind for him bc woah, finally, he gets to talk to them!!! but then again, the only examples of soulmates he's seen is his dad and the awful way he handled mary's death, so dean's not the fondest of the idea. he has to keep his journal hidden so no one ever finds it and takes away what becomes one of the only highlights in his life.

finally, my last one!!! this is just a regular modern au. jaime moves into a new town and tries to fit in. he gets a job at cas' bakery, and he meets dean at the mechanics shop, and they all fall in love :] it's very nice and sweet.

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!! this was a lot to type out 😭😭😭

#answering machine #my aus #omg i gotta tag all these... #au: jestiel merfolk #au: jaime kills john #au: hunter!jaime #au: modern jestiel #au: jestiel post-apoc/dystop #au: jestiel soulmate journals #au: jestiel soulmate tattoos #au: jestiel farmer #au: music artist dean #au: spidernatural #au: rvbnatural #PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS OR COMMENTS #PLS ASK/TELL ME #I'D LOVE TO HEAR WHAT EVERYONE'S GOT TO SAY ABT THESE

[mlobsters]

supernatural s9e16 blade runners (w. brad buckner, eugenie ross-leming)

i don't read the episode descriptions on netflix even but i do pop over to the wiki to get the writer info and (this is so silly) i blur my eyes so i don't get more info than that (so silly!) but even super blurry i recognized the image that was in the wiki's episode page, finally getting to the mark of cain bubbling to the fore again

LOL i completely forgot that crowley was supposed to be out literally searching the bottom of the ocean for the blade

DEAN Yeah, but his ass is on the line, too. He goes missing for weeks on end without a peep? Well, not one that makes sense, anyway. Listen to this. CROWLEY Dean. Um... [indecipherable ramblings] SAM Wait a second. Did he...drunk-dial you?

laughed out loud, thanks guys

i understand logistically and whatever but crowley and his demon friend fucking while fully clothed basically, also silly :p

did i just see snooki in the credits?? okay. curious if i'll be able to recognize her

so heaven factions, hell factions (sub-subplot crowley being addicted to human blood because it makes him feel things), mark of cain and brother drama... it's enough slices! i just don't care.

i think the crowley stuff is interesting and fun, he's a good character when he's being tricksy (and dull when just evil) and mark sheppard is overflowing with charisma, so i can be down for stuff that revolves around him. but when we start getting scenes of his demon lady meeting up with abaddon's minion because hell double agents i'm t i r e d

(god i'm making another reference to once i ate a pie, but this dog is the most relatable)

okay, so it's snooki as snooki/nicole

i fully expected paris hilton's appearance to be not good and was pleasantly surprised. unfortunately, can't say the same for snooki

also is crowley feeling guilty for the dead people now post-dose

wonder if that got a bitchface note from the transcriber. very pointedly asked lol

SAM Hey. So...Cain said the First Blade was tossed in the deepest ocean, right? That's the Mariana Trench. Maybe Crowley found it, and it's a double-cross. DEAN That doesn't make sense. He wants me to power it up and kill the ginger. He set it up. SAM Okay. A-assuming he does show up with it, Crowley is only useful to us until we have the Blade. DEAN Yeah. So? SAM So...There's nothing stopping us from using it on him, right? DEAN Nothing at all.

oh but the moral quandary of his addiction and human-y feelings! and dean latches on to people and if you're family, all is forgiven; oh and demony things coming down the road for dean...

lol the awkward intervention where only 2 people showed up

exasperated parent vibes from sam and dean LOL

SAM What, are you knocking over blood banks?

--

DEAN Look at you. You're a mess. You know, we were counting on you. You let us down. SAM Your slimy followers were counting on you to kill Abaddon, and you let them down. DEAN The man with all the mojo -- Captain Evil. SAM Oh, it's pathetic. CROWLEY What is this? An intervention?

--

CROWLEY Poor Moose. It's always a little tricky keeping up, isn't it? SAM [looking up to find CROWLEY staring at him] What are you doing? CROWLEY I'm still a little tainted by humanity. Makes me sentimental. SAM Well, stop. CROWLEY You and I both know we shared a mo back in that church. And on some level, we are bonded.

SAM [exasperated] What is Crowley doing? DEAN looks around Stealing candy. SAM He is -- he's -- he's stealing candy.

i feel you sam, my kids make me feel the same way sometimes

dean lookin sharp in that suit. similar vein of the more casual dressy situation with the nice boots but really i think it's just it fits him more closely and he has a dark shirt ha

another microsoft surface product placement lol

DR. MCELROY "Compel"? And what might that involve?

all right

porn booze and comfy chair, quite the upgrade

oh my good god i do not care about this fucking magnus/cuthbert subplot. anything around the men of letters i rapidly lose interest. similar to the angel politics. demons and the boys apparently are about all i can get it up for

MAGNUS Dean, I am offering you the moon here -- to be part of the greatest collection of all time, to be young forever. Let me teach you my secrets. Hmm? Be my companion. I have to be honest with you, it has gotten lonely here over the years. DEAN When you were saying any of that, did it feel at all creepy? Yeah. I'm just gonna grab the Blade and go.

CROWLEY Who would have thunk it, eh, Moose -- you and me, same team, in the trenches. When this is over, we can get matching tattoos. SAM Just to be clear, Crowley, we are not on the same anything. By the way, since the place is warded, your powers are useless, which means you are useless, even more so than usual. CROWLEY You're gonna need another set of hands when you get in there, unless you have other volunteers in mind. SAM Thanks. Pass. CROWLEY If memory serves me, I'm the one who helped your brother find Cain so that we could find the Blade, so that Dean could receive the Mark. I'm the one who flushed that lout Gadreel out of your noggin. So, lately, big boy, I've seen more playing time than you.

the whole dean is "Not Moose" in crowley's phone, he's really focusing in on sam here

the awkward hunched over half inside the car rummaging through files is cracking me up

as much as i'm feeling blah about the MoL magnus thing, there is some spark from this dude being so creepy and collecting people/monsters/whatever and forcing dean to be part of the zoo collection

not sure how creepy magnus plans to keep mark of cain powered up hunter on a leash and doing his bidding

MAGNUS Hmm. Well, I'm not asking you for your cooperation. I'm just taking it.

oh. magical roofies. great. ugh.

trying to figure out who magnus guy reminds me of, young treat williams maybe

good food

oh, controlling dean via torturing sam, great.

i liked the sound design/score there for after dean killed creepy creeper where it had kind of a ringing over the music, whole blood / blade singing

well at least dean can't go on any killing sprees without the blade egging him on? not clear on how that works exactly now that he's held it and used it to kill somone

so is crowley fine now, no lasting effects from abruptly discontinuing his drug of choice?

no time for brotherly angst with all this hoopla

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 9x16 #brad buckner #eugenie ross leming