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#sammy shut up challenge
sammy-smiles-531 · 2 days
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HELL YEA I CAN FINALLY VOTE FOR A LAD
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nazami711 · 5 days
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i feel like i just got trolled guys
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vv3spa · 2 years
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ignoring your weird anons for a moment
what IS your opinon on the meat sandwich? personally speaking it sounds like a sensory nightmare to me
hehe hmm... i honestly don't know yet... i know that i would not be a fan of the slipperiness but it sounds pretty fucking good. all of that meat 😋 i probably wouldnt put any cucumbers or pickles in there myself i am not a fan of those in my sandwiches but if i put ketchup on it, i'd eat the hell outta that. [chefs kiss] i plan on trying it when we have lunch meat in our house
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newtdrawz · 1 month
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Sam,,, Winchester,,,
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darlingverse · 2 months
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ℭ𝔯𝔶 𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔖𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯; II
{poly!lost boys x fem!reader}
♱ 𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤: explicit
♱ 𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: another day in santa carla, and it's already stranger than the first. conflicting feelings surface when you encounter the punks from the boardwalk again, and a challenge ends with you seeking help from the kind man running the video store.
♱ 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: emerson!reader, fem!reader, reader is 18-19 (middle child), reader wears glasses, foul language, sibling dynamics, mentions of divorce, sexual harassment, stuck-up?reader (she's prissy at times), non-consensual touching, teasing
♱ 𝔞/𝔫: original word count was 4861, new word count is 6050
[1] … [3] … [8] [9]
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You tuck a well-loved novel into your makeshift bookshelf, muttering a quiet, "Don't look at me like that, Bowie," to the stuffed snowy owl Grandpa deposited last night. 
Bowie didn't reply, but you swear his blue-and-green eyes gleam with judgment. 
"If you don't like it, then don't read," you remind him, pushing another racy novel behind his perch. 
Is it pathetic to talk to a piece of taxidermy? The jury's out. As of right now, he's your only friend. Somehow, both Sammy and Michael have made connections. Even Mom made one in the two seconds you weren't with her. 
Maybe you're doomed to be like Grandpa? A curmudgeonly hermit who loafed around the house in a bathrobe and soggy slippers. 
Talking Bowie means you were halfway there. 
You turn the owl around with a shudder.
You continue your chores softly humming with the Mamas and the Papas when someone knocks on your door.
Mom ducks her head in, wearing an apologetic look for disturbing the peace.
"—Well, I got down on my knees, (got down on my knees) and I pretended to pray!—"
You turn the sound down on your radio, "Yeah?"
"I wanted to check in with you. I'm heading to the video store—you can join me, if you like?" She shrugs. "You don't have to stay the whole time. Michael and Sam are heading to the beach if you'd rather join them."
You note the lack of choice: it's either/or, not neither. 
You could hem haw around—Gee, Mom, that sounds great, but I'm having so much fun unpacking!
Yeah. Not happening. She wants you to go out 'like old times,' but you don't have the heart to explain that 'old times' are meant to stay in the past.
And as much as you would love to cling to your mother's arm, you're not a child, and you want to give her a chance to explore this newfound something she formed with the Video Store Man.
"I'll go to the beach with Mike and Sammy."
Mom smiles, relieved. "That's great, honey. We can meet up at the boardwalk after my shift is over and get something to eat."
"Sure."
She blows a kiss and leaves. You hear her melodic voice float up the stairs as she tells Mike the news. He groans—probably complaining about how his bike can't fit three people—but Mom shuts him down by saying he can drive Grandpa's pickup. 
Michael barges into your room minutes later.
"Knock first!"
"Shouldda been born first," he fires back. Mike braces his arm on the door frame with a huff. "Listen—we're leaving in ten. Be ready by then."
"Fine—shut the door!"
He doesn't.
Asshole.
You change clothes, having spent all day in your PJs. You throw on a thin waffle knit sweater that used to belong to Mom and a gauzy skirt. You don't intend to get in the ocean, but pack a few books to pass the time. 
When you get downstairs, Sam and Michael are packed and ready, wearing wetsuits and sunglasses. 
Sam scrunches his nose when he sees you. "Where's your swimsuit?"
"Not wearing one."
"What? Is it shark week or somethin'?"
You flick him in the middle of his forehead. "No, you dweeb. You'd know if it were."
Sammy shudders. 
The drive to the beach is pleasant; plus, Grandpa's radio works. Michael tries to get in on the fight for control, but after getting slapped one too many times, he gives up. 
Berlin's Take My Breath Away crackled over the speakers, and Michael groans. "Turn this shit off."
"It doesn't make you think of a certain someone?" Sammy teases.
"Oh, that's right," you say. "You were stalker boy last night, weren't you?"
"Shut up."
Sammy piles on, "It's never gonna happen."
"No, never," I add, "your ugly mug's probably what scared her off."
Michael turns the channel.
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When you reach the beach, the sky is a murky orange. The sun'll be setting soon, but according to Mike, this is one of the better times to surf. 
The boys do all the heavy lifting, and you lay out a towel; you situate yourself far enough from the water so you won't get wet, but not so far that you're on the hot, loose sand. 
You watch idly as your brothers paddle out but quickly lose interest. You crack open a book—one of your favorites—and immerse yourself in the story.
When you look up from your book and notice that the sun is halfway down the horizon and the beach is almost empty; Sam trudges up the sand and throws his board to the ground.
You raise an eyebrow. "Had enough?"
"I'm sick of falling off," he grumbles. He spreads his legs, hogging the towel. "Plus, those terrorists wouldn't leave me and Mikey alone."
Sammy juts his chin toward the ocean, and you follow his gaze. Michael is easy to spot—he's the one surrounded by surfers. One of them comes a little too close to Mike, and he, in an attempt to swerve, falls off his board. 
Sam sneers, digging through your beach bag for a snack. "What a waste of space."
You peer over the edge of your book. "He's not gonna give up, is he?"
Sam deadpans. "What do you think?"
Michael clamors onto his board. The 'terrorists,' as Sam so eloquently named them, paddle toward him for another go. You roll your eyes and snatch a handful of Bugles from Sammy's bag. You're in for a long night.
Forty minutes later, the sun is completely gone, and dusk overtakes the sky. You give up reading and instead toss M&Ms into Sam's mouth (which is actually harder to do in the dark than read). Michael jogs out of the ocean, frustrated. A little ways behind him, the surfer group terrorizing him laugh. Your stomach churns and you would've thrown a seashell at them if the wind wasn't whipped into a frenzy.
Instead, you toss Michael a towel, and he dries off. His cheeks are pinkish-red, though you don't know if that's a sunburn or embarrassment.
"Let's get outta here. Mom's probably wondering where we are." He jerks his head to Sam. "Help me pack the boards, will you?"
Sammy whines, "I just wanna go home—can you drop me off, Mike? I promise I won't take too long…"
Mikey grabs the scruff of his neck and drags him to the parking lot.
You take your time packing up and sigh. Hopefully, Mom will be happy. You've done your due diligence and made sure Michael and Sam kept their nose clean. You even got some sun. If that doesn't count as socialization, you don't know what would.
It's only when the group of surfers approach that you wish you'd followed your brothers.
Before you can take a step, a wet, slimy hand smacks your ass. You jerk, stumbling over a mound of sand as you try to distance yourself from the offender.
"Hey!"
"How ya doin', beautiful?"
He's an ugly son of a bitch. You don't need sun light to tell you that. His hair is black with a white stripe, like a skunk's. The surfers close rank around you. They're still soaked from the sea, reeking of saltwater and cigarettes.
You think about running, but you won't make it; the six of them will catch you before you clear the dunes. Your stomach flips.
Ass-grabber snickers at your distress. "Why's a nice girl like you hangin' 'round chumps like that?"
The stench of beer and sweat leaks from his pores.
You level a glare, "They're my brothers."
Ass-grabber shares a look with his lackeys. "Your brothers can't surf for shit. All they know how to do is wipe out."
"Yeah," you say, "you tend to fall when you're crowded like that."
They ooo, and your false bravado takes a hit. A few hushed, nasty comments are thrown your way and you out manuver a pair of wandering hands. They're drunk. Drunk and fixated on you. Might as well, right? You're the only Emerson they haven't antagonized.
"You got a mouth on you," says ass-grabber. He closes the distance between you in one stride, snatching your wrist. He pulls you close; his wetsuit soaks your sweater; his disgusting lips brush the shell of your ear. "I'd like to see what else it can do."
"Get off," you plea.
"'M gonna."
"No, get off!" You shove his chest, and he staggers.
"She's not interested, Greg."
The new voice startles you. You free your wrist and come face to face with a black leather jacket. Then, familiar blue eyes. Your lips part (to say—what? One look and he stole all the words from your mouth.) and you search his face.
It takes you a second to place him—and it comes from a shadow of a memory from the night before. The punks from the boardwalk.
You should be scared, but you're not. You see it in those captivating blue eyes of his, he doesn't want to mess with you. He's here to help. For now, at least, you let your guard down.
Greg glowers at the interruption. "Get off my beach."
The punk rips his gaze from yours with a shit-eating smirk. "Last I heard, the beach was public property, ay boys?"
He exchanges a glance with the rest of the boardwalk punks—one full of mirth and … something else. Something that you can't place, but it makes you uneasy. You take a step back lest you involve yourself in an Outsiders-esque rumble.
Greg gets in the leader's face. "I'll fuckin' kill you, man. Don't test me." You step back again, using the punks as a shield. You've never gotten in a fight before and you won't start now.
Greg's eyes flit between you and the group. And then—the strangest thing happens. He takes one look at the boys, and his eyes widen. The wind howls, but you swear you hear a growl. It's probably a passing car, but it chills you to the bone.
Greg's fear vanishes in a flash, and he scoffs. "You don't deserve my time."
The surfers trickle away one by one until they're just pinpricks on the sand, but the punks stay.
Finally, they face you, and you cradle your bulging tote bag like an iron shield. You're disgusted, you feel violated, and you're tempted to lose your cool on the punks, but their arrival prevented a worse outcome. For that, you're grateful.
Reluctantly, you admit that.
"Thank you." You push your hair back, holding it in place as the wind picks up. "I appreciate your help."
"No problem, baby." The taller blond smiles, capturing his tongue between his teeth.
There it is again. That long, drawn-out bay-bee. You clench your jaw. Maybe you should've run off.
These guys make you uncomfortable, but not like the surfers. No, it's a different sort. A discomfort that you've never felt before. It's all warm and awkward, like fluttering in your stomach.
As if he could sense your apprehension, the leader speaks. "Believe it or not, those guys are bigger assholes than us."
You scoff a laugh and his lips twitch.
He continues, "What are you doing out at this hour? Don't you know there are weirdos around?"
"I'm here with my family." They deign to look around the beach, but it's empty. You blush. "They're packing the car."
"Wasn't smart of them to leave you alone. This isn't exactly a safe place, you know?"
"Yeah," says Curly. "Just last week a bunch of body parts washed up on the shore. They dunno if it was a murder or a shark."
You frown. "You're kidding, right?"
Curly's grin is sharp enough to bite. "Why would we lie about something like that? Do you think we like scaring innocent girls like you for fun?"
"Uh, yeah."
The leader cocks his head, sizing you up. You swear his gaze burns you from the inside out, like hellfire. You resist the urge to shudder. 
"You left before we could introduce ourselves," he says, referencing last night. "I'm David. That's Paul—" bay-bee boy "—Marko—" Curly "—and Dwayne." The pretty brunette.
You try not to look interested (because you're not) and nod. "Well, have a nice night."
"You're not gonna tell us yours?" Marko asks.
You start to tell him 'no,' but you get the feeling he won't quit until you admit it, so tell them your first name. "I have to go."
"What? Can't hang, baby?" Paul snickers, ruffling your hair. You smack his hand away.
"It's not that—I have people waiting for me." You glance over the ridge again, praying your idiot brothers haven't left you. "Plus, I doubt I'd be much fun."
Your words elicit a new wave of laughter. Paul slings his arm over Marko's shoulder, "I think we'll be the judge of that."
Your face burns, and you stammer, "That's not what I meant."
God, they're disgusting. You hug yourself, willing your stomach to stop flipping. 
"I dunno, Paul, that seems like the only way to take that," says Marko. He pinches your nose. "You're cute when you're flustered." 
"I'm not—"
A hand reaches out—too fast for you to identify which boy, but you assume it's one of the terror twins—and snatches your glasses from your face. 
You react a second too late. "Hey!"
"Wow—" Paul, you think, "—You're pretty blind. How can you see?"
"I can't, you jerk! That's why I wear glasses!"
"How many fingers am I holding up?" Marko thrusts his hand in your face. 
"Give them back!" You lunge at where you thought he was, but he vanishes into thin air. 
You stumble into a chest. A pair of hands curl around your biceps. "What's the magic word, baby?"
Paul.
You bite your cheek. You refuse to cry in front of them. "Please?"
"Actually, it's da—oof!" Someone punches him before he can finish.
Paul vanishes from behind you, and you sniffle; you're pissed, you're embarrassed, and you wish that you were standing in quicksand. (Better yet, you wish they were standing in quicksand.)
"Here."
Someone presses your glasses into your hands. You put them on quickly, ignoring the fingerprint smudges on the lenses. 
You blink up at your savior—the gorgeous brunette. The one who, until now, hadn't said a single word. Dwayne, maybe?
"Thank you," you whisper, wishing your voice was stronger.
There may be a decent one among them, after all.
He smiles, and your heart stutters. This man could be on the cover of a romance novel, Jesus. You quickly look down, but that was the worst choice because he's shirtless under that leather jacket. You pinch your lips together and look literally anywhere else—there's a seagull, an abandoned kite, some trash...
"Don't tell me Dwayne makes you nervous," says Marko. "He doesn't bite, do you big guy?"
Dwayne shrugs, "Not hard."
Killing you would have been kinder. You’re a pile of goo, your face burns (but you tell yourself it’s from the sun), and if they keep this up you don’t know what will become of you.
"Do you want a ride?" David asks. "Seems like yours ditched you."
Michael. Sam. 
Fuck, that's right.
"No, they're just waiting for me," you say again.
On cue, Michael peers over the dunes, shouting your name. "C'mon! What's taking you so long?! Sammy's about to have an aneurysm."
A squeaky "Am not, Mike!" follows.
"Coming!" You burst through the boys but stop halfway up the dunes. "Um, thanks again, I guess."
David tilts his head, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "The offer still stands."
But you pretend you don't hear him and jog to the waiting truck.
Michael waits for you with a frown, eyeing the boys. "Are you okay?" 
You don't want to get into it, so you say, "Let's go."
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Mom is anxiously waiting when Michael pulls into the lot. She greets you with a hug and a kiss. "Where's Sam?"
"Home," says Michael. "He's beat."
"Okay." She eyes his bike and squeezes your hand. "How was the ride over?"
You scoff, "At least he didn't crash this time."
Mike takes offense. "That was one time."
You stick your tongue out. One time and one ER visit too many in your book.
"Well, I'm starved." Mom rubs her hands together, smiling. "What do you say we go out to eat? I saw a great little place over there…"
Michael shrugs. "I think I wanna look around for a bit."
"Oh. Well, that's okay."
"I'll meet up with you later," he says, disappearing into the crowd.
"I guess it's just you and me, kiddo. What do you say? You wanna go home and make some pasta?"
"Yeah," you say, but your voice is an octave too high.
Mom sighs, but she's not disappointed. "What do you really want to do?"
Damnit. She's good.
Sheepishly, you tell the truth, "There's a bookshop around the corner, and I'd really like to check it out."
"Aw, sweetie." Mom squeezes your arm, pulling you into another hug. "I want you to have fun. You're not going to hurt my feelings by saying no, I promise."
"Yeah, but…"
"No buts. Go look at books. I think I'll head home. Are you okay riding with Michael again? I know how you feel about…"
She gestures to the bike.
You cringe at the offending metal. "We made it here in one piece. I'm sure it'll be fine."
"Okay, honey. Enjoy yourself, alright? And you have Grandpa's number if you need it?"
"Yeah."
"I won't tell you not to stay out too late because you're a big girl, but be safe."
You smile, "I'll be home before midnight. I promise."
She relaxes ever so slightly, and it warms your heart. It almost makes you change your mind.
She waves goodbye, heading for the Land Rover. You square your shoulders and head back into the masses.
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The bookstore is overcrowded tonight. 
Well, it's not, but you spot a few unsavory characters (namely Greg and his surfer douches), which makes you rush back to the parking lot. You're not ready for round two. 
Luckily, Michael's bike was still there, otherwise you would've been screwed.
You sit on the Death Trap (the name you gave Mike's stupid motorcycle a few years back) until you see Michael heading your way. You almost call out ...
... until you see he's with a girl.
"Shit," you whisper. 
Michael's puppy dog grin diminishes when he spots you. 
He looks ... different. He's wearing a leather jacket with the tag sticking out of the shirt sleeve. He's even combed his hair back. He looked like an off-brand version of David and his gang.
The girl eyes you warily. Michael rubs the back of his neck, glancing between you and her. 
"Um. Star, this is my sister."
You wave. If you were in a better mood, you would have teased him, but after the day you've had, ribbing Michael is the last thing on your mind.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't think you'd have company and Mom ... took off, and I'm... I'm sorry."
You've never felt more shitty in your life. For all the crap you give him, Michael's a decent guy. There's no way he'd choose a random girl over his sister.
But at the same time, you don't want him to make that choice. It's not fair.
"It's fine," he says. "We'll work this out."
Star readjusts her purse, "Maybe we should do this another time."
"Star," Michael starts to say something, but it fizzles out. 
Before he can try to salvage the evening, the roar of engines rips through the air. You jerk out of your seat as four stripped-down bikes corner you. Driving the beasts are four familiar faces, so familiar that you almost say, What? Are you guys stalking me?
But you don't because David beats you to the punch.
David raises his eyebrows. A dangerous aura overcame him—an aura that made you feel small and insignificant. "Where ya going, Star?"
Oh.
Apparently, they're not here for you. It ... stings, if you're honest.
She set her jaw. "For a ride. This is Michael."
David's gaze jumps to your brother. He sizes him up and smirks. It's like you're not even there.
He turns back to Star and says, "Let's go."
Star hesitates, and you wonder—why? Clearly, there's something there. Their history is palpable; regardless of whether it's romantic or platonic, you don't care. But the look on Michael's face crushes you.
Subtly, you insert yourself in between her and Michael. The last thing you need is for some girl to string him along. 
"Star," David says again, impatience seeping into his lazy drawl. 
She makes a face, but David doesn't budge. He stares her down as if daring her to challenge him. Reluctantly, she chooses David, draping her arm languidly over his chest as she climbs on. 
You expect David to burn rubber. He's got his girl; he's made his point. Now's the time to peel out and leave the Emersons in the dust. 
But he doesn't. 
Finally, David looks at you, and that weird feeling returns. You cross your arms, but you can't look away.
David doesn't want you to, though. And even though he speaks to Michael, he doesn't stop staring at you. "Do you know where Hudson's Bluff is, overlooking the point?"
Michael's confidence falters. "I can't beat your bike."
David revs his engine. "You don't have to beat me, Michael. You just have to keep up."
There's a pause, and it breaks the spell David held over you. Michael shifts his attention to you, Star, and the gang. You know your brother—your idiotic, competitive brother. He's considering it. There's one surefire way to get under his skin: challenge him. David, whether he knows this weakness or not, is exploiting it. 
But Michael holds back. He nods toward you. "I've got my little sister with me..."
"You can bring her," says Marko. "We don't mind, do we, baby?"
He winks, snickering as Paul whispers in his ear.
"Don't talk about her," Michael snaps.
You hold your hand out, "Mike, don't."
"Yeah, Mikey." Paul grins; you don't like what it does to you.
David says your name, and you instantly react. He gives you the same look he gave Star, goading you, commanding you. It's an invitation as much as it's a demand. 
Again, he says, "The offer still stands."
You swallow hard and say, "I shouldn't." 
David frowns. 
You turn to Michael, keeping your voice soft. "I know you want to go."
Michael grits his teeth. "I'm not going to leave you here."
"I'll be fine."
A beat of silence. He purses his lips. "Are you sure?"
You're not. You're scared shitless at the thought of being left alone on the boardwalk, but you can't tell him that. You won't. You see the way he grips his handlebars. He wants to impress these guys—impress that girl.
Michael is annoying, but he's your brother, and you refuse to hold him back even if he will make stupid choices.
You can't be his voice of reason when he'll tune you out.
So, you say, "I'll figure something out. Maybe that guy from the video store will know something?"
Mike relaxes. "... Fine."
You go to leave, but David catches you. His grip is gentle—barely there. He slips his hand from your wrist to your cheek, forcing you to look at him. 
He's touching you.
Your skin tingles. 
"Last chance," he says.
No sits on the tip of your tongue. It's the comfortable answer—the only answer—but saying yes is tempting. It dangles from your lips like a snake's hiss, your yes, your acceptance of David and everything he offers. 
You can picture it perfectly: climbing onto their bikes, feeling their leather jackets against your skin.
Skin on skin, chests crushed against each other. Hot, deep kisses that leave you breathless.
Hands trailing over your body—up your sweater, down your skirt, around your waist, over your breasts.
Tongues exploring every inch of your skin. 
It would be easy to say yes. You ... You want to say yes. 
Michael says your name, and you snap back to the present. You blink, rapidly clearing that perverted vision from your mind, your thoughts evaporating like smoke. 
You step away from David, letting his hand drop.
"Like I said," you murmur, "I wouldn't be much fun." You turn to Michael, plastering a wholesome grin on your face. "Be safe, Mikey."
"Tell your little sister bye-bye, Mikey," Paul jeers. 
Knowing you'll change your mind, you can't make yourself look back. So, you thrust yourself into the crowd and embrace the chaos.
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By some miracle, you don't spot Greg or the surfers again when you reach the video store. A rush of cold air kisses your sweat-slick skin when you cross the threshold. Soft music plays overhead, and a handful of customers browse the offerings hung on the wall. It's a brightly colored dreamland, everything neon and glittery, designed to catch your attention.
In the center of the room is a counter, and behind it stands a tall, broad-shouldered man. He passes change to his customer and greets you with a smile.
"Hello, how may I help you?"
"Are you Max?" His eyebrows twitch inward, but he nods, still smiling. You give him your name. "I'm Lucy's daughter."
"Lucy's—of course you are! What can I do for you on this lovely evening? Did she forget something?"
"Yes and no." You readjust your glasses. "My ride bailed and I was looking for a phone to call her. You don't happen to have one, do you?"
"By all means!" He pulls a sleek, rotary phone from beneath the counter. "Have at it."
"Thank you."
You dig through your purse and withdraw a neatly-folded piece of paper with Grandpa's number. Everything's going to be fine, you reassure yourself. You tuck the receiver under your ear and dial. The line rings ... and rings ... and rings.
Nothing.
You try again, consciously aware of Max watching you from the corner of his eye.
The phone rings again. No one picks up.
Shit.
Did you write the number wrong? You don't have a phone book or you'd triple check, but you swear you did that before leaving the house.
"Is everything okay?" Max leans against the counter, concern coloring his face.
Defeated, you hang up and push the phone toward him. "I'm sure it is."
"Did someone pick up?"
"No." You bite your cheek to keep the panic at bay. "No, uh, they didn't. Thank you, anyway. I'll figure something out. Maybe hitch a ride, or ..."
"Have you hitched before?"
You strain to smile. "There's a first time for everything, right?"
Max doesn't smile. "No, I'm afraid I can't let you do that. Santa Carla isn't the wholesome place it used to be and I cannot, in good conscience, have you go out alone. I'll drive you."
Eyes wide, you backpedal, "Oh, no! You can't, you're in the middle of work and I just, I can't."
"Nonsense. Maria!" He motions for the pretty cashier to come closer. "Can you handle the store for a little bit? I have an errand to run. It shouldn't take more than an hour."
"Not a problem."
Max slides out from behind the counter and parrots Maria's words. "See? Not a problem."
"I don't want to get you in any trouble..."
Max chortles. He lays a hand on the small of your back and guides you out of the store. "My dear, I own the place. Although, if it makes you feel better, I'll reprimand myself when I get back."
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Max has a nice car. Like, a really nice car. It has air conditioning that actually works and a stereo system that's out of this world. Plus—you can crank the windows up and down without them getting stuck! It's nothing like Mom's car, and everything like your father's back in Phoenix.
But Max isn't anything like your dad, which is probably why Mom loves him.
He makes light conversation in between you giving directions.
"Your necklace is pretty."
"Oh, thank you." You wear it so much that you barely think about it anymore. It's simply a chunk of quartz on a cord. You touch it, feeling its weight in your palm. "It used to be my mom's, but I took it so often she eventually gave it to me."
When you were younger, you used to think it was a magic rock that could grant you wishes. Now, you feel naked if you don’t wear it.
"Do you like crystals?"
"I guess so, yeah. They're pretty."
Max hums, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "What's your favorite?"
"Um, well, I like quartz, but I think my favorite is obsidian."
He nods, "Remind me, which one is that again?"
"It's black. I don't know why, but it's always been my favorite."
"There's a shop on the boardwalk, somewhere around the theater, I think. I never go that way, myself, but I have met the owner during the occasional meeting. She's a nice woman. Has a big selection of crystals, if I'm right. You might like it."
His thoughtfulness strikes a cord with you. You can see why Mom likes him, he's charming.
"I'll have to check it out," you say. "Maybe I'll find my mom something to replace this old thing."
Max chuckles. "That's very generous of you. Most people think of themselves first. You have a giving heart—just like your mother."
"Oh, I don't know about that. She makes it easy."
Max turns the corner, and picks a new thread of conversation. "How do you like Santa Carla so far?"
"It's okay. We used to come out here a lot during the summer, but we haven't in ... almost a decade, I think?"
"It's a wonder we never met until now."
You shrug. "There's a lot of people in Santa Carla."
"That's true." Max turns the dial. A new radio station sifts through his speakers, and though it's not a genre you like, you don't mind. It's not like you're listening anyway.
To fill the void, you keep talking. "My dad never liked it here. He always cut our visits short. I can't remember even coming to the boardwalk back then."
"And your father, he's ...?"
"Back in Phoenix," you say. "They're divorced."
"I see." He keeps his tone light, but you can tell he's secretly glad to hear that. "It must be tough for you. You've uprooted your entire life."
"I’d do it again if it helped Mom, but if I’m honest? I feel like an outcast here. Everything is so different."
"Do you not like different?"
"It's not that I don't like it, I'm just not used to it." You laugh at yourself, adding, "I'm not the adventurous type. Mike and Sammy, they're outgoing, but I'm ... not. I tried, but it's not for me. I'm a homebody."
"There's nothing wrong with that."
"You'd be the first to think it."
Maybe that's not fair to Mom, but it's true. She doesn't get it. You know she means well when she sends you out with your brothers, and you'll suffer through if it makes her happy, but you'd rather be at home. Even now, you're kicking yourself for not going with her.
Max glances at you. "Home is where the heart is, as they say."
"The heart is Mom," you say, not-so-subtly implying that Santa Carla isn't home. "I'm just ... there."
"A home needs a heart, a mother; that much is true. But a home also needs a solid foundation, something to hold it steady, something that makes sure it doesn't sink or shift. Now, some people might say that's the father's role, but not always. You strike me as that kind of person."
You're thankful it's dark because you fluster when he speaks. "That's kind of you to say."
"It's just an observation from an old man."
You snort. Max isn't old. "I guess I'm an exception to the middle kid stereotype—you know, how they're supposed to be wild and all that." You tried to be that a long time ago. You were that way, but ... "Mom's always needed a friend, especially this last year with everything. She does her best, but sometimes she needs help. I don't mind doing that."
Max softens, fondly glancing your way. "I wish my boys had someone like you around. Maybe you could knock some sense into them."
"You have sons?"
"Oh, yes. They are," Max whistles, "they're a handful, that bunch. I try. I've given them everything, but they're reckless. As untamed as wild horses."
"I'm sure you do fine."
"They would disagree with you," he laughs. "What they need is something they've never had: a mother. Now, I can give them discipline, but they need that-that heart. Or, a foundation, for that matter." He winks at you conspiratorially. "I hope they get that one day before it's too late."
You smile awkwardly, but words evade you. The conversation took a strange turn.
Max pulls up to your house. The totem poles tower over his sleek car like grim sentinels welcoming you back to the pit. But, Max doesn't unlock the car.
"Look, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I have to ask," Max says. "I like your mother very much. She's ... She's unlike any woman I've ever met. I know I haven't known her long, and I understand you all are going through a difficult transition ..."
You gently cut his ramblings short. "She likes you, too, Max."
"Really?" You nod. Max exhales, running his hands through his perfectly coiffed hair. "Then ... you wouldn't mind if I ask her on a date?"
"You seem like a great guy. I think she would love that. But it's up to her to say yes," you remind him.
"Of course! Thank you—your consent means more to me than you know."
He unlocks the car and you hop out. "Thanks again for this."
"Any time. Have a good night, my dear!"
You wave goodbye and head inside.
Everyone's asleep by now. The house is dark, save for a lone lamp Mom must have left on for your arrival. You wander into the living room and snatch the phone off the wall. But, instead of the dial tone, you're met with silence.
Damnit, Grandpa. What's the point of having a phone if it doesn't work? If you hadn't found Max, you would have been in serious shit tonight.
You don't remember until later that you stopped giving Max directions at some point.
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That night, you dream of David, Dwayne, Paul, and Marko. They flight through your window one by one wearing jackets made of animal fur and leaves and dance on the ceiling.
"Can I come with you?" You watch them with awe, wishing you could fly, too. "Please?"
David extended his hand. "All you had to do was ask."
They lift you out of bed and you soar through the sky. You're not afraid, not as you touch the stars or do loops around the boardwalk rollercoaster. You find comfort in their company. They give you freedom when you hold their hands.
"Where are we going?" you ask.
"Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning," Marko jokes.
They take you to their hideout in the trees and lay you on a bed of moss. They stroke your nude body. You can't remember losing your clothes, but it's okay. You like it when they touch you. It feels different. It feels good.
Hands turn into mouths; tongues lick your flesh, mouths suck your nipples, your neck, and lower. Much, much lower.
"Join us, wendy-bird." Their voices warp, whispering, overlapping over one another. "Be our lost girl."
Be ours.
The pleasure intensifies. Your surrounding blur, but you see their faces with perfect clarity. They're beautiful. You want to tell them this. Why haven't you?
Be ours.
They laugh. They moan. They take turns lavishing you with their attention until you're drunk on them.
The dream ends the moment one of them tries to penetrate you. It was so vivid, so real, that when you wake the next morning you're ... disappointed?
Yeah, disappointed. Not that you'll admit it outside of this drowsy state, warm, yet, alone in your bed. You're disappointed in yourself, and disappointed in your imagination, but most of all, you're disappointed that you didn't tell David yes.
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geekforhorror · 1 month
Note
you ask for req you receive req
sub!sam but hella bratty and he keeps trying to dominate you just to get a rise out of you so he can be punished harder <3
play with fire
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pairing: sam monroe x fem!reader
warning(s): SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), dom!reader, sub!sam, dirty talk, degradation, impact play, bdsm, bratty sam, use of handcuffs, etc.
————
Currently, you were on top of your boyfriend who decided that he wasn’t going to obey today. He had been such a whore today and now that he got what he wanted, he decided that wasn’t good enough for him. He wanted more. You knew that’s what he wanted. To get a rise out of you, to push your buttons, to make you give him what he so desperately wanted. Safe to say, you weren’t having it at all. However, in some strange way, you coincidentally gave him exactly what he wanted. But at what cost? Perhaps his dignity.
A prime example of him trying to overpower you was guiding your hips faster back and forth. You smack his hand away the first chance you get and he successfully retreats.
“I don’t think so, slut. You have some nerve trying to make decisions when we both know I’m the only one who knows what’s good for a whore like you,” you grit.
“Can’t wait any longer,” he pleads.
“Trust me, I know, pretty boy. But bad sluts don’t get what they want, do they?” you tut.
“N-No they don’t…” he trails.
“Good to know you haven’t gone completely dumb on me yet, but you will,” you assure him. With that being said, you start to move on the bed, but not to sink on his dick. It was to retrieve the handcuffs resting on the nightstand that you didn’t bother moving from the last time he bratted out because you knew it wouldn’t be long until he misbehaved again. He wasn’t doing himself any favors by proving you right.
His grin widened and you noticed right away. There was a big look of disapproval plastered across your face and you drop the handcuffs faster than you picked them up.
“Oh I see what’s going on here… this is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” he muttered under his breath.
“I’m sorry what was that, baby? You’re going to have to speak louder than that.”
“Maybe…” Sam says clearly now.
“That’s what I thought… don’t have to be a bitch about it though,” you say as you roll your eyes.
“What are you going to do about it?” he challenges.
Oh hell no. That was your last straw. You thought he had pushed it before, but this really did it.
“All fours. Now,” you order.
He obliges with your demand for the first time tonight, which was new. Once he can’t see you anymore, you reach for the paddle hidden underneath your guys’ bed and place it onto the bed along with the recently discarded handcuffs. You had a wicked idea. One that would have him begging for your mercy. He would have to earn it after everything he’s done so far tonight.
You open the cuffs and firmly grab his wrists before placing them flush against his lower back and rotating them closed, rendering him helpless.
“Thought you weren’t gonna use those,” Sam says in a tone that you didn’t appreciate.
“Shut the fuck up, Sammy,” you say before you bring the paddle to the flesh of his ass and smack him with it. He stifles a yelp at the sudden stinging sensation. “You’re going to take what I give you and thank me for it, understood?” you say in response to his pathetic attempt to muffle his moan.
“Y-Yes,” he finally answers.
“Much better,” you say. Another harsh blow to his ass has his hips stuttering as he tries to obey his superior.
“Let’s make this a little more interesting, shall we? If you can count every single hit without making a fool out of yourself, I will blow you and you will be able to cum like the slut you are. Sound good, baby?” you ask, already knowing he wouldn’t be able to turn an offer like that down. Not in a million years. He frantically nods his head as expected and a grin spreads across your face.
You slam the wooden paddle once more, indicating the start of this little game with him.
Little did he know, he was in for a long and painful night.
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pagannatural · 29 days
Text
1.18
Something Wicked
-Winchester brothers investigate a sickness that spreads through child-siblings that’s really a monster that’s really the thing that haunts Dean for letting it get to Sammy. Help
-“Two queens” “I bet” Michael thought they were a gay couple trying to hide their relationship
-Nine-year old Dean made his little brother’s dinner and didn’t even sit down to eat anything himself. He gives the last bowl of lucky charms to Sammy due to puppydog eyes. He throws away Sammy’s spaghettios rather than eating them, saying Sam was the one who wanted them in the first place- so he probably doesn’t like them. Everything in this scene is for Sam.
-Sam offers Dean the cereal box prize. Dean remembers that 17 years later, which means it really meant something to him, which is so fucking cute.
-This is also the age at which Dean started making his own money Somehow and got a subscription to a news magazine. I think he wanted a way to feel like he was connected to the world outside that still allowed him to stay home watching Sam so he didn’t have to risk leaving again.
-Dean knew about all of the monsters his dad hunts and knew how to shoot a gun at this point and yet he wasn’t scared to leave the motel by himself and walk alone at night. And he’s in what, third grade? His fear center is broken
-Sam was probably scared to be woken up by his dad losing his shit over him, glaring daggers and yelling at his older brother standing in his doorway pale and shaking.
-Dean tells Sam “he gave me an order and I didn’t listen and I almost got you killed.” No wonder he did as John said for the rest of his life.
Sam tries to comfort him by saying he was just a kid, but Dean shuts him down.
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He was never a kid. He still feels guilty for this.
-It’s not like he ran away or froze up. He pushed open Sam’s door, picked up and aimed his gun, and then hesitated when the monster roared at him. I think he was out of his mind afraid of what he was seeing-Sam in danger- and afraid that he would miss and accidentally shoot Sam. He tells Michael to get under the bed before they can take a shot at the shtriga later in the episode, so that’s definitely on his mind.
-Michael asks Dean if he would do anything for his little brother and Dean says “yeah I would.” Sam has told Dean both “I would die for you” and “I would do anything for you.” It’s Sam’s way of communicating how much he loves Dean. But I don’t think he’s heard that from Dean yet. Dean really doesn’t express how he feels with words the way Sam does, so he probably loved hearing this.
-Sam says “I’ve really given you a lot of crap for always following Dad’s orders. But I know why you do it.” Dean turns away and says “oh god kill me now” like this is too emotional for him. If the reason he followed orders was like, For Safety, this wouldn’t be an emotional conversation. Sam’s looking at Dean like, I know you do it for me.
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-Shtriga attacks Sam, and Dean gets to save him and kill it, maybe allowing him to start changing the belief that challenging John would lead to Sam getting hurt. Before it was I failed so Sam almost died, now it’s I acted and I’m not nine anymore.
-Sam says sometimes he wishes he could have the innocence of never having known about monsters. Dean says “if it means anything, sometimes I wish you could too.”
Dean doesn’t even wish for his own innocence. I think Sam notices this.
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Dean got to be a part of Sam’s life before he knew about hunting. He probably saw how Sam started getting scared, how he resisted hunting, and wished he didn’t have to do it. This is Dean admitting that yes, he does question and resent the way they grew up sometimes, he does see the ways that it hurt Sam. They both acknowledge the realities of each other’s lives- Sam understanding why Dean always follows John’s orders and Dean understanding why Sam wanted a different life.
This whole episode was about how big Dean’s love for Sam is, and about a monster that feeds on children’s youth and life force that Dean believes only got to Sam because of him. But Sam doesn’t even remember, Dean is the one living with that guilt.
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losfacedevil · 7 months
Text
Tease // JMK
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a/n ~ Man I feel like I've been working on and teasing you guys with this for-freaking-ever! Josh pieces take the MOST out of me, I feel like he has the HARDEST essence to capture. Both prompts have been incorporated in this! "Go Fuck Yourself" // "Only if you watch me." "Oh god!" // "Yes I am your god." Word Count 3.9K
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI! Teasing, Oral (f! receiving), m!masturbation, unprotected penetrative sex.
Josh’s face contorted into a look you knew all too well. From the challenging way he raised his brows to the scowl kissing his pretty lips; you knew you were in for it. He sauntered slowly over to where you sat perched in your best friends lap, arm tossed over her shoulder as you leaned down to whisper in her ear. 
“He’s pissed I’m on your lap, watch.” A light giggle escaped you as you turned your attention back to Josh. He stood just a mere inches away from you, foot tapping against the floor as he crossed his arms over his chest. You nodded your head at him as you ran your fingers through your best friends hair. 
“Something I can help you with, babe?” You drawled, your voice only just loud enough to be heard over the music blasting from your stereo system. His hand found your shoulder and he bent at the waist, his pretty little lips so close to kissing your ear as he spoke. 
“I think someone needs to behave.” His voice already held the tone that made your heart flutter and excitement to pool between your thighs. Straightening your back you took a deep breath, letting your hand fall to her shoulder. Josh squeezed your shoulder hard, eliciting a noise from your throat you were glad the loud music drowned out. 
“Do it again and we’ll have to send her on her merry way, got it?” He let his teeth scrape against the side of your ear, causing a soft shiver to dance up your spine. You nodded your head slowly, glancing up at him through your thick lashes as he pushed himself to stand at his full height. 
“Someone’s possessive, huh?” She laughed, eyes dancing over Josh’s retreating figure. You nodded your head gently, turning so your lips were almost pressed to the side of her head. 
“So possessive. What say we have a little fun with him, hmm? I’ll take you out to dinner tomorrow to make up for him kicking you out.” Your best friend giggled, nodding her head as she wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you even closer to her. 
You straddled her waist, letting your arms rest over her shoulders and tangled your fingers in her hair. Your eyes landed on his side profile, the man fully engaged in the conversation at hand and paying you no mind. 
“He’s too busy talking to Sammy, but just you wait he’s going to storm over here and ask you ever so nicely to leave. The sugar dripping from his voice is only going to turn to venom once he has me alone.” You couldn’t help the excited giggle that slipped past your lips. She wasted no time burying her face in the crook of your neck. 
Incoherent mumbles slipped past her lips and she batted her eyelashes, the soft tickling sensation sending a shiver up your spine. Your eyes fluttering shut of their own accord as you tipped your head back and gave her access. She blew a stream of cool air over your heated skin, eliciting a gasp from you. 
Josh’s eyes snapped in your direction, brows raised as he brought his teeth down against the inside of his cheek. He excused himself from the conversation he was having and crossed his arms over his chest as he sauntered over in your direction. Your eyes remained shut, fully lost in the trance that was your best friends lips against your neck when a hand harshly gripping your chin shook your body to the core. 
“Hey, I think she may have had a little too much to drink. I think you should probably be heading out there, sweetheart. I’ll take good care of her.” Josh’s voice was low, the growl of aggravation evident in his tone as you let your eyes flutter open. A smug smile spread across your lips as his grip tightened on your chin, pulling your head downwards so your eyes met his. 
You shook your head free of his grasp, slowly removing yourself from your best friends lap and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek as she rose to her feet to see her way out. He caught your gaze, his already dark eyes seemingly darker as they tracked their way up and down your figure. 
“I don’t know who you think you are, but that little show was absolutely unnecessary.” He growled, arms crossed over his chest as his gaze danced the length of your figure. 
“What show? I was just having a little fun, bubba, honest.” You wrong your hands out in front of you, eyes downcast as you took in the fact that he no longer wore shoes and pushed your bottom lip out in a pout. Josh rolled his eyes and pulled a deep breath in through his nose, blowing it out harshly before reaching out and gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger. 
“I’ll show you what having a little fun is.” He grumbled, letting go of your chin in favor of bending at the waist and throwing you over his shoulder. He couldn’t help the childlike giggle that escaped him as you screamed, reaching up to clap his hand down on your ass. 
“Josh, put me down!” Squeals slipped past your lips as you flailed around in his grasp in the hopes he would put you down. He continued to giggle, slowly making his way towards your shared bedroom and he continued to smack his large hand across your ass.
“I’m not sure you deserve to be set down, do you? The way you were acting was a sure fire way to get you punished.” The chuckle that escaped him was sinister and he cracked his hand down against your ass with one final hard blow. 
A yelp escaped you as your hands balled into fists and you tugged at his shirt. He kicked the bedroom door open and made his way over to the bed before leaning forward and tossed your body forward. You landed on the bed with a soft yelp, bouncing slightly and screwed your eyes shut as the blood drained from your head and the world spun. 
“You’re an asshole.” You mumbled, pressing the palms of your hands against your eyes as the world slowly came to a stop. 
“You’re an asshole. No you’re the asshole for putting on such a pretty little show for the entire party but not for me.” He pushed his bottom lip out in a pout, stepping forward to slot himself between your knees.
“Not my fault you just weren’t watching, I was enjoying myself.” You mumbled, dropping your hands to your sides. Josh chuckled lowly, gripping your chin in his hand and his tilted your head back to look up at him. 
“Well I wouldn’t have to have been watching you if you were paying attention like the good little girl you are, now would I?” His face was dangerously close to yours, ghosting his lips over yours before pulling away and eliciting a whine out of you. 
Josh pulled away and took a step back from you, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were challenging, staring down at you as his chest heaved - no doubt his heart beating like a jackhammer in his chest. You stood from where you sat, eyes dancing over the length of his figure as you took a step forward. 
“And what if I don’t want to be a good girl?” You quipped, batting your eyelashes at him. You sauntered the rest of the way over to him, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. Josh��s hands found their home on your hips, pulling your body fully against him. 
“Bad girls get punished, now don’t they? Maybe you’ll have to go to bed without being touched tonight, teach you a little lesson, hmm?” His voice was soft and teasing as he spoke, reaching up to brush his finger gently down your cheek. You rolled your eyes - not in the begging mood and pushed yourself away from Josh. 
“Go fuck yourself.” You spat, crossing your arms over your chest as you held your foot down firmly.
“Go fuck yourself.” Josh mimicked, rolling his eyes as he balled his hand into a first, holding it waist height and mimicking the motion. 
“Yeah, go fuck yourself you asshole.” Your lip curled as your eyes danced over his hunched figured, slowly digging through his bedside drawer.
“Only if you watch me.” He growled, lip curled as his anger began to get the best of him. He stood to his full height, twirling two newly found pairs of handcuffs around his finger. Your eyebrows raised of their own accord, taking a step closer to him. 
“What was that? Are you offering me a free show?” You chuckled, knowing better than to take what he said at face value.
“Free show? Oh no, you’re gonna pay immensely.” A sinister smile spread across his face as his hand found your wrist and he clasped one side of the handcuffs around it. A gasp slipped past your lips as the click, click, click of the handcuffs made your heart beat faster.
“What are you doing?” You voice but a whisper as your eyes found the open bedroom door; fully aware that his brothers were still mingling just down the stairs. Josh’s gaze found your, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as recognition washed over him. 
“Oh? So now you’re going to be worried about being caught? When it’s just the two of us? But had no problem damn near riding her thighs in the living room? It stays open.” He growled, his hands finding your shoulders and he pushed you down onto the mattress. A soft yelp escaped you as you scurried up the bed, knowing exactly what he was getting at. 
Another sinister chuckle escaped his lips as he clasped the handcuff to the headboard, rendering you incapacitated. Your eyes locked on to his face, tracking him as he slowly made his way over to the opposite side of the bed. He slowly stripped off his top, the metal pendant he wore around his neck coming down and gently slapped against his chest. 
You pulled a deep breath in through your nose and reached up to wrap your hand around the bars of the headboard. Josh nodded his head in approval, quickly using the second pair of handcuffs to attach your hand to the headboard. 
“Strip. Oh wait, the pretty princess can’t strip, now can she?” Josh’s voice held a sultry tone and his pupils were fully blown out with lust. His teeth came down hard on his bottom lip and his eyes danced over your body, the thought of you being unable to wrestle with him adding fuel to his fire. 
“Don’t play games, Joshua.” You spat, watching as he slowly climbed onto the bed and straddled your lap. You tugged against your restraints, wanting nothing more than to run your hands down the planes of his smooth chest. A groan slipped past your lips and you pushed your bottom lip out in a pout as you realized that it wasn’t possible. 
Josh raised a brow and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched you try and lift your head high enough to press a kiss to his skin. He shook his head lightly, reaching out to run a finger down your nose and lips, grasping your bottom lip between his thumb and forefingers and pulled it out; revealing the naughty word inked on the inside of your lip. 
“Who’s playing games? Hmm? What if I just wanna take my time putting on a little show for you? Hmmm?” He teased. You pulled a deep breath in through your nose as his hand danced down further and his fingers curled around the hem of your button down shirt.
Josh grasped each side of your shirt and tugged, sending the small buttons flying as he broke the threads holding them in place. Your eyes grew wide as the corners of his lips quirked up into a smile and he dove forward. His lips quickly found their home against your neck, pressing soft kisses against your skin and his warm breath sent shivers down your spine. 
His hands danced over the exposed skin of your abdomen, inching dangerously close to the underside of your breasts. You tugged feebly at your restraints, knowing full well you would have to surrender to his every touch. 
“Josh, baby, please.” You pleaded, your voice barely a whisper as he pulled away and sat back against his feet. Josh shook his head as he slid off the bed, standing to his full height and shimmied out of his skin tight jeans. You fought the urge to let your eyes roll back at the sight of him, his body well kept and groomed. 
“Please, what? You’re not getting off that easily. Oh that pun was fully intended.” Giggles erupted from his chest and a boyish grin kissed his lips. Josh’s gaze landed on your bare chest, a curt nod of approval as he brought his hand to his face and spit into his palm. 
“You said to go fuck myself right? What’s gonna happen when I’m fully enjoying myself, hmm? When I stroke my cock in the same manner you would? Make your mouth water and beg to take me into your mouth? Hmm?” Josh couldn’t help but tease as he wrapped his hand around his shaft and pulled a dramatic breath in through his nose, a soft groan slipping past his lips as he exhaled. 
Your jaw slackened as he began to stoke himself in slow calculated movements and his gaze found yours. His eyes fluttered, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and he turned to the side so you could get a better look. Your gaze wandered down his figure, coming to rest on his waist as you pulled a deep breath in through your nose and crossed your legs at the ankles.
He lost himself in his movements briefly, bucking his hips forward to meet the movement of his hand. Soft moans tumbled past his lips as he reached up and ran his other hand down his face, pulling on his bottom lip as it made its descent. A cheeky smile spread across his face as his eyes fluttered shut and he ran his finger tips gently over his nipples, the nerve endings under the flesh sensitive to touch.
You squeezed your thighs together, moisture pooling between your legs as you watched the erotic show Josh put on. Soft moans escaping your lips as the friction of your panties against your clit caused your breathing to quicken. He came to quickly, the moans tumbling from your lips alerting him to your actions. He chuckled lowly and shook his head before throwing it backwards, swallowing hard, his adams apple bobbing erotically and he reached up, clamping his free hand around his throat. Your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip as a soft whimper escaped your lips. 
“You best uncross those legs, I’m not stupid.” It was a demand and he turned to face you; reaching out to grab your foot and yank your legs apart. 
“But I wasn’t touching myself, bubba.” You whined, absentmindedly yanking at your restraints. Another sinister chuckle escaped him as he ran his thumb over the tip of his dick, causing a shiver to run through his body. A soft tsk,tsk slipping past his lips and he removed his hand from his length, gently kneeling on the bed between your now spread feet. 
“You don’t think I know you’re still finding the friction you crave squeezing these thighs together?” He cooed, dragging his fingertips gently up the length of your legs. Your eyes fluttered shut as he ghosted his hand over your clothed core and elicited a pathetic whine from deep within your chest. 
“That’s exactly what I thought. Didn’t we have this discussion? Pretty Princess won’t get touched if she doesn’t learn to listen and behave.” He growled, lifting his hand slightly, he brought it down quickly against your skin with a sickening crack. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, stifling the yelp that escaped your chest. 
“I’m sorry, I’ll be a good girl, promise.” You whimpered, batting your lashes in Josh’s direction. He leaned down, pressing soft kisses against the reddening hand print blooming across your inner thigh. Your breath hitched in your throat, fighting your body’s natural urge to lift yourself up against his lips. 
Josh laid across the bed, settling his face between your thighs and looked up at you through hooded lids. Your eyes widened slightly, watching as he carefully pressed his face to your clothed core. A jolt of lightening shot through you as he pressed the tip of his nose against your clit and shook his head from side to side. 
You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you and you tugged on your restraints once more; wanting nothing more than to thread your fingers through the hair atop his head. He made quick work of pulling your underwear down and off of your legs, quickly readjusting himself as he laid back in his original position. 
Josh placed soft, tentative kisses to the inside of your thigh, his hands slowly dancing across your skin. Goosebumps rose in their wake and he placed a soft kiss to your clit, his eyes never leaving yours as he gauged your reaction. 
“Now, the Princess is gonna behave if I give her what she wants, right?” He cooed, flattening his tongue and licking a delicious stripe up your dripping core. 
“Yes, yes, please.” You knew you sounded pathetic, nodding your head vigorously as you watched him. He chuckled lowly, dancing the tip of his tongue in lazy circles around your clit and your legs closed around his head of their own accord. 
He began to tease your entrance with the tip of his tongue, licking long sloppy stripes up your center and rutted his own hips against the mattress in tune with his tongue.  The soft moans escaping you like music to his ears. 
“Baby, please. I need more, please.” You begged breathlessly, the sound of you falling apart beneath him turning him on more. He chuckled against you, sending shock waves though your entire body as he pulled away and sat back on his knees. 
“So we do know how to use our manners it seems.” He taunted, wrapping his hand around his length and stroked himself gently. You nodded sweetly, batting your lashes at him once more. 
“Can Princess have control of her hands back, please? She promises to behave.” Youd coo, wrapping your legs around his waist to try and pull him forward. He reached up, placing a hand against his chin as he pondered his answer. 
“Nah, I think I deserve to have a little more fun before I set you free.” He chuckled, pushing up on his knees and let his body fall forward so he was hovering over you. 
“But I wanna feel you, bubba. Wanna run my fingers through your hair and make you feel good.” You whined, leaning up as much as you could to try and plant a kiss against his lips. He leaned down and pecked soft kissed against your lips, soon trailing kisses from your lips down the expanse of your neck, stopping only to wrap his lips around your taut nipple. His hand wrapped around your throat, pressing gently against the sides of your neck as his teeth grazed your nipple and stars erupted in your vision. 
“Oh? Do you now?” He mumbled against your skin, reaching down to wrap his hand around his length and line himself up with your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt him run his cock along your slit, collecting your slick and nudging your clit with the tip of his dick just right. 
“Yes, yes, please. Wanna feel you, wanna feel all of you.” You begged, wrapping your legs around his waist once more. 
A low chuckle escaped Josh as he pressed forward, sinking his entire length into you in one go. The scream that erupted from you was music to his ears, egging him on as he thrusted his hips slowly a few times. Josh leaned up, leaning over slightly to grab the keys for the handcuffs off of the nightstand. He quickly unlocked your restraints and had enough time to toss the keys back in their rightful place before you hands found his hair and yanked him down to meet your lips. 
Josh began to slowly roll his hips, his cock filling you up in the best way possible. Groans slipped past his lips as he brought his teeth down to worry your bottom lip, biting as hard as he could without drawing blood. You knew the face you were making was lewd, jaw slackened as your eyes rolled back under fluttering lids, but you couldn’t help it. 
“Oh god!” You drawled, rapid breaths escaping you as he changed up his rhythm and pounded into you. 
“Yes, I am your god.” He growled, the only sound filling the air that of skin slapping against skin. 
Josh couldn’t help the sounds that escaped him, moans of your name sing songed on his voice as he chased his release. You pulled your hands through his hair, finally being free of your restraints and pulled him down to you; suctioning your lips to the skin of his neck as the coil in your stomach threatened to snap. 
“Bub, please. I’m so close.” You groaned, raking your nails across his scalp, eliciting a delicious noise from his chest. 
Josh slowed his movements, dragging his hips outwards as slowly as he could before pounding back into you at full force. He reached up, pressing his hand gently against your lower abdomen in the perfect spot as your eyes rolled back, and a silent scream ripped from you as the coil in your stomach snapped and your orgasm washed over you. 
“Joshua.” His name a symphony on your lips as a string of curses followed. You hands gripping his hair and tugging hard at the root as you tried to keep your mind in the present world as you rode out the most intense orgasm he’d ever given you. 
Josh couldn’t help the smug chuckle that escaped him, suctioning his lips to the side of your neck as his hips found another rhythm, one that brought him over the edge in a matter of seconds. The growl that escaped him sent butterflies erupting in your stomach as he spilled his release deep inside you. 
His hips faltered to a stop, breathing ragged as he collapsed on top of you. Soft giggles slipped past your nose as you pressed gentle kisses to the expanse of his forehead and twirled sweat soaked pieces of hair between your fingers. He slowly steadied his breathing, rubbing his nose along the length of your cheek as he forced himself to pop his eyes open. 
“Holy shit. Maybe you should put on a show like that more often.” He mumbled, tired giggles escaping him as he slowly removed himself from you and rolled off of you, throwing his arm over his eyes as he began to relax against the mattress. You shook your head at him, leaning up to capture his lips in the softest kiss before scurrying off to the bathroom to clean up. 
Cheeky Taglist: @joshsindigostreak @rhythm-of-space @puzzle-gvf @vanfleeter @takenbythemadness
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blackwolfstabs · 4 months
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30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 26
SLEEPING IN
It's that time of the month again.
The clock passed 7:45 AM, and there was still no sign of Tara. Her class started at 8:35 AM, and it took her about 15 minutes to get there. Normally, she never got up past 7:30.
Today was different.
Sam gulped down the last of her medication and left the bathroom to make way to her sister’s room. The door was shut, no sound or any sign of activity coming from inside. So, instead of knocking, she went straight to turning the knob as quietly as she could and letting herself in. 
Tara was still under the covers, having them pulled all the way over her shoulders as she lay curled up. However, the notorious creak of the door opening made her peer up.
Her eyes were still heavy with sleep, not even open all the way as Sam observed them. “Hey,” she greeted softly, “You’re gonna be late, it’s past 7:45.” She approached the bedside.
But her little sister just shut her eyes again and buried half of her face into her pillow. “I don’t feel good, Sammy…” 
She sat down on the edge of the mattress and reached over to rub her back, softening her voice as she asked, “What’s going on?” She then moved her hand to tuck away the other’s messy, feathered bangs out of her face. “Do you feel sick?”
The younger Carpenter shook her head, still not opening her eyes. “My period…” she mumbled. “Cramps…”
“Mm.” She must’ve started it last night. Usually, they let each other know when the time-of-the-month starts, so they won’t accidentally snap and then erupt into a meaningless fight. “Did you start it last night?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Her older sister nodded and brushed her warm cheek with the back of her hand, before pulling the covers down a little. “I’ll go get you some medicine, and—”
She was cut off by a long, high-pitched whine that came from Tara, who yanked the blanket back up while stretching in a frustrated way. “Noooooo, I don’t wanna go to class, Sam!”
Sam had to bite back a laugh at how childish she looked turning over onto her stomach and twisting her face away—like if she was facing the other direction, then she wouldn’t be forced to go to school. “I didn’t say you had to go, Tara,” she chuckled, unable to hold it back. “I was just going to get you some medicine and the heating pad.”
Her sister huffed but seemed to drop the tantrum at this response. Her eyes opened a little to glance out of the corners. “You’re not going to make me go, even if I take medicine?” When they were kids, their mother would encourage them to take some medicine and push themselves to quote-unquote “get through the day,” when they didn’t feel well but didn’t have fever. She’d always hated that, and she knew Sam still lived by that, even though she had hated it too as a kid.
“Are you kidding? Even with medicine, period cramps suck,” the older replied. “I’m not gonna do you like Mom.” Her train-of-thought drew her to the same memories of when they were in their school-days. 
Tara actually managed a small smile at this, which made Sam return one before she stood up. “I’ll be right back. Do you need anything else?” 
A head-shake answered her and she dismissed herself to retrieve some Tylenol, a glass of water, and the heating pad. When she retreated to the bedroom, Tara had moved onto her back with one hand limp over her eyes and the other tucked beneath the covers, rubbing her lower abdomen. “Okay, Tara…” She set the cup and heating pad down on the bedside table, then brushed her little sister’s forehead softly. “Can you sit up for me to take this?”
Tara slid her hand off of her eyes and propped herself up on her forearms. She balanced her weight long enough to take the two pills, one at a time, and swallow them with a few gulps.
“Good girl,” Sam praised, before letting her lay down again. As she did so, she went to plug the cord of the heating pad into the wall, beneath the phone charger currently in place.
Tara was already grabbing the dark green pad to slip it beneath her blanket. Now, a little more awake from taking the medicine and navigating the topical remedy to her liking, she kept an eye on her big sister as she came around to situate the controlling section next to her. “Sam?”
She didn’t look up as she proceeded to set the temperature, “Mm-hmm?”
“Can you stay home with me?”
Sam’s dark eyes raised before her face did, a spark of concern flooding them faster than she could blink. But when the younger just blinked at her innocently, she decided it was her unstable hormones making her clingy side come out. “I’ve gotta go to work, baby,” she told her. When she saw her face drop into that small pout no one else could pull off, she caressed the side of her face, “I’ll call to check on you, okay? And you can text me whenever you want.” She brushed her thumb over her cheek, noting the disappointed sigh that came in response.
“‘Kay…”
Sam gave her a small smile and leaned down to place a loving kiss to her head. “Go back to sleep,” she whispered.
Tara nodded and closed her eyes, nuzzling herself into the comfort of her bed, while hugging the heating pad to her aching abdomen. Her sister’s footsteps then faded out of the room, which left her sighing again. It wasn’t that she needed Sam to be there with her. She was 21, she didn’t need a babysitter or someone to coddle her. It was just that she liked Sam’s attention, whenever she was sick or wasn’t feeling 100%. She liked to be held or hugged, or just to be near her. Call it a security or little-sister thing. That was just the way she was. Especially since they had mended what had been broken for so long back in Woodsboro. Here in New York, after defeating the last pair of Ghostfaces together, they had grown closer than ever and rarely, if ever, looked back on where they had been. 
Tara still remembered what it felt like when she realized Sam wasn’t coming home on her big sister’s 18th birthday, just like Sam remembered what it felt like to have her baby sister shout “Get the fuck out!” at her in that hospital room.
They never forgot any of it, but they did build a wall between then and now. And that’s what Tara relied on. Even in times like these, which were small and insignificant, considering she got her period every month. 
It was safe to say that there was a small crack in the wall they built that let the river that connected before-estranged, estranged, and never-again-estranged flow through, because their relationship tended to mirror what they had as kids more than it mirrored their growing-up-and-apart fate.
However, Tara’s hopes were unexpectedly lifted when she felt the bed shift behind her and a familiar, loving embrace wrap around her torso, overlaying the heating pad to hold it in place. She hadn’t heard Sam come back in the room, but she knew that touch better than anything. She felt her sister nuzzle the back of her head as she shifted closer with a content sigh. “Sam?”
“Hmm?”
For someone who was already up and about, Sam was warm against Tara, as if she’d been laying with her all along. “I thought you said you were going to work.”
Her big sister shrugged with a small scoff. “Fuck work,” she replied, “They don’t like me anyway…”
This made her chuckle and shuffle further under the covers. “What if they fire you?” 
“They won’t.” The smile that came across the other’s face was heard in her voice. “They may not like me, but they need me.”
The younger smiled too. “Well, look who’s so confident in herself,” she teased. 
Sam teased her back, “What? I mean, I can still go, if you’ve change your mind.” She began to pull her securing arm away. “Would you rather me leave?”
But her sister pinned it before it could leave her side. “No, no, stay,” she giggled, tugging her arm back to where it was. “I was just playing.”
“I know,” Samantha’s smile stuck around as she picked her head up to kiss her sibling’s and then settled back down again. “So was I.” She let her eyes close as Tara sighed happily and traced her small fingers over her hand that guarded the pad beneath the blankets. “Now, get some rest, my love. I may not be going to work, but I can’t stay here all day.”
Tara nodded. “Okay. But you go to sleep, too.”
“You first.”
She let her hand go limp over her older sister’s and sank into her pillow. “Thank you, Sammy. I love you.”
Sam brushed her nose into her hair, taking in her thick, calming scent that had already crowded her olfactory senses from being in her bed. “I love you too, Tara.”
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happy thanksgiving everyone! i hope you all had a great time with your family, friends, or whoever you spent it with. i'm very thankful for all the things i have and are able to do, in these fearful times. thank you all for your support and love. i'm very thankful to have you and be apart of this community.
All my best! ♡ - parker
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pendragon-writes · 1 year
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𝑀𝒲𝟤 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶 𝑀𝓊𝓉𝑒 𝑀𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇
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An: For the sake of this fic Reader has permanent vocal cord damage.
(Y/n) "Snake" (L/n). Have finally become the new sergeant of Task Force 141 by Captain Prices picking himself. But here's the catch, during your time in the army your vocal cords were completely damaged causing them to be permanently damaged(Leaving you only able to moan(Not in a sexual way you horn dogs))... The reason you got your code name? One of the new privates thought he was the shit and challenged you to a 1v1, in the end, it landed him being choked with your thighs and being constricted like a snake with its prey. Which earned you the name Snake.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
He heard of the task force getting a new sergeant but he was a bit surprised to find out you didn't talk.
At first, he wasn't a big fan of you cause of your code name (it reminds him of his past) he, of course, didn't let that change his opinion of you as a person whatsoever (He understands that these types of code names aren't typically picked by the person themselves but picked by others, plus you had no connection to what his dad did to him). If Price picked you then that had to mean you were good and he trusted the man's judgment.
at first, he struggled a bit with understanding sign language but after a lot of patience, this man is now almost as fluent as you are and now because of it you both sometimes talk together in sign language during missions.
If your native language isn't English and you can speak in your native language in sign language then this man will learn it.
When the two of you talk in sign language in front of people who aren't part of the 141 task force you get some looks but Ghost quickly shuts them up with a glare.
When he does find out the reason for your code name he slightly chuckles but pats you on the back.
"Now we know who the others shouldn't mess with aye?" he would tease you from time to time because of this.
After he heard this story he would follow it up with nicknames relating to your code name.
Some of them are Sir Hiss, Rattlesnake Jake, Sammy(The snake), Sandy (The snake), and so on. (Let me know if you know the references lol).
Def got you something snake related as a birthday gift.
(This part I'm basing off of ahren_comedy on TikTok)
When the two of you went to the park with your dog and he saw you moan to your dog and then return to you he was impressed.
He HAD to try it for himself.
So when your dog went back to doing their business he tried at first to call your dog by name,
"Come here (Dogs name)!"
which clearly didn't work.
So he mimicked your moan and your dog responded he started petting your dog and praising them.
"Who’s a good dog? You are!"
John "Soap" MacTavish
He was super excited, new sergeant on the team? Hell yeah!
Sure he might've been a bit skeptical of you at first but after a little bit he warmed up to you.
When he first met you with the others he was surprised to see you pull out a large notebook and write you're name on it.
He didn't understand why you did it until the Captain explained how you couldn't talk.
He'd get you to try to pull pranks with him and Gaz on the other members.
Would beg you to teach him so he can be in the loop with you and Ghost.
Would draw on the cover of your notebook when he's bored (Or on the corners inside the book).
If you are together and have to talk to other people who don't know sign language he would totally translate on your behalf.
Also calls you snake-related nicknames for a light laugh.
Ju-Ju, Mr. Snake, Kaa, Rattle Shake, Solid Snake, etc.
Has definitely pranked you by placing a snake plush on your chest during you're sleep.
During missions, if the two of you have to be quiet you two would easily talk strategy in sign language.
The type of guy to talk late at night with you through sign language, no matter how dark it is he will try.
Out of the whole task force, he is the one to use the most nicknames on you.
(This part I'm basing off of ahren_comedy on TikTok)
When John first met your dog and saw you shake your beer can and moan he was confused about why your dog left the room.
But when he saw what your dog did he was shocked. How did they know that you wanted another beer?
When he tried using his voice to get a beer all he got was a tilt of the head to the left.
When he copied your moan and did the exact can movement and saw your dog return with a beer he cheered and fist-bumped the air.
Then he praised them.
Captain John Price
This man wasn't surprised in the slightest, if anything he laughed at some of the others' reactions. He saw your file and knew exactly who you were.
He was the one to properly introduce you to the team.
He's the only one who knows how you got your code name but won't tell the others no matter how much they beg him.
He was there during the accident and sometimes blames himself for it.
He's one of the few people who have heard your voice pre-accident.
While he doesn't typically follow up with the nicknames like the others he does sometimes call you one.
When you two are drinking together and if he was drunk and you brought up the story of how you got your code name he would be snorting and laughing loudly, def the type to slap his knee.
If you know morse code he'd definitely talk to you in it.
(This part I'm also basing off of ahren_comedy on TikTok)
When Captain Price saw you moan at your dog and point to the other room and them leaving you alone it definitely surprised him.
When he left for the kitchen and your dog was trying to get his food he pointed to the left and tried to get him to stop.
"Go you muppet go to your owner".
When that didn't work he copied your moan and when your dog listened and went to you he started laughing and explained to you the situation.
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sammy-smiles-531 · 1 year
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Me watching Tropical Rouge Precure recently made me come up with a cursed idea….
Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared… but it’s a magical girl show with the transformations and everything.
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rizlowwritessortof · 7 months
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Worth It
This was written for @stusbunker Stu's Sinema Challenge. My Deadly Sin was Envy, quote is in bold in the fic.
Of course Dean doesn't mind if you go hang out with some guy you knew in your civilian life. You know, the kind of life he never had. It's fine.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 4,174
Warnings: Smut, Oral (male & female receiving), swearing - you know, the usual 😊
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The air is thick with the smell of sweat, blood and death. You, Sam and Dean are back to back to back in the middle of the room, most of the nest lying scattered around you. Dean lunges forward and slices another vamp across the chest, then swings his machete in a hard downward stroke, taking the monster’s head and sending it rolling across the floor.
He turns as you take on the last one standing. The furious creature hisses, running at you, and Dean watches in admiration as you whirl and slash in a graceful, macabre dance of blade and blood, sending the undead thing to Purgatory. “Fuck me, nice move,” he says, and you turn, wiping a smear of blood from your cheek.
“Thanks!” you answer with a bright smile. Dean’s stare is like a physical touch, and your smile slowly fades, something primitive crackling in the air between you. Then Sam speaks and the spell is broken.
“You got the last one, I guess Dean’s buying!” he laughs, and Dean huffs as he turns to wipe the blade of his machete on a bale of hay.
“I don’t know why I bet with you,” he grumbles, and you laugh.
“Hey, it was your idea, champ.” You grin even wider at his grumpiness, digging a little more. “I’m feeling really thirsty, too.”
His lips twitch as he smothers a smile, reluctant to give in that easily. “Yeah, yeah. I pay my bets. Let’s burn this dump and get outta here. I could use a beer or six myself.”
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You hit your room almost running, anxious to get showered and hit the bar, conveniently located right across the two-lane highway from your motel. You feel alive, a buzzing just beneath your skin - adrenaline and something else, something that’s making you feel a little reckless. You push down the memory of Dean’s expression back in the barn, staring at you like he was just as hungry as those vamps. That’s something you don’t allow yourself to think about, so you focus on the night ahead, hoping there will be some pretty local boy in that place who’s in the mood to get lucky. And who hopefully has the skills to make you get lucky.
The three of you walk into the local dive together, eyes adjusting quickly to the dim, cloudy lighting. Dean heads to the bar to grab some beers as you and Sam stake out a table, waiting for the night’s benefactor to return with the reward for your victory.
He’s smiling as he arrives, handing you an icy longneck with an exaggerated bow and holding his out as you all toast together. “Hate to admit it, but that last move of yours – you deserved to win. This time.”
“Awwww… thanks, you big teddy bear, you.”
“All right, all right,” he grumbles, but he’s smiling and you know he likes it when you call him sweet names, even if he’d never admit it.
Sam is staring towards the bar, and you turn to look. “Oh, Sammy – bartender’s kinda cute, and she’s looking at you!” you tease, and he blushes a little, his dimples flashing as he shakes his head with a grin.
“Shut up, half-pint.”
“Want me to introduce you?” Dean jabs at his brother, and Sam rolls his eyes.
“No. Both of you, get drunk and stupid and do what you do, I can take care of my own shit.” He grabs his beer and heads for the bar, taking a seat and striking up a conversation with the cute brunette.
“Kind of dead in here. Wanna shoot some pool? Maybe you can win something tonight!” You head for the back of the room, Dean following you with a smirk.
“Gloat away, smartass – I’d love to teach you a lesson.”
The two of you play a couple of games, exchanging snarky comments and sexual innuendos as usual accompanied by laughter and more beer. Around 9 pm a small group of guys walk in, and you glance up, followed by an ‘Oh, my god… I don’t believe it.”
“What?” Dean asked, taking his shot, standing when he finishes to look towards where your stare is aimed.
“I know those guys. Well, a couple of them.”
“Oh, yeah – you grew up around here somewhere, didn’t you?”
“I went to high school a couple of towns over. Still, never thought I’d see anybody I knew. I’m gonna go over and say hi. You don’t mind, do you?”
Dean shrugs, shaking his head, turning his attention back to the pool table, one eye on you as you approach the group of twenty-somethings. Of course he doesn’t mind, why should he mind? That self-destructive, uncomfortable feeling is kicking up in his gut, the one that whispers that he doesn’t fit in, that he’s a freak who will never have anything those kind of people have and take for granted. He’s lived with it for years, every time Dad moved him and Sam to a new town, a new school. The armor he’s always worn - the snarky, smart-ass attitude, the I-don’t-give-a-shit bad boy persona – that was its origin, developed and thickened like a scar to keep that fucking feeling from overwhelming him. It’s never so bad when he has backup, which is usually you and Sam, but Sam is busy flirting with the bartender and now you’re talking and laughing with the locals. Guys who got to grow up like normal kids, go to high school, take girls out to movies and proms, have family dinners and vacations. And what makes it all worse is that he tells himself, tells Sam, that the kind of life people like that live would drive him crazy – but the truth is, deep down, that’s what he’s always wished for.
Dean watches as Sam catches his eye with a little wave. He’s on his way out with that cute little brunette, and Dean nods in reply. Guess he’ll be sleeping in the car tonight. He thinks about finishing his beer and leaving, too – instead of watching you flirt and laugh with the normals, probably hook up with one. He thinks about taking Baby and going for a drive, parking out in the country somewhere to sleep so he doesn’t have to see who you bring back to your room with you.
Where the hell did that come from? Not like the two of you have ever even thought about hooking up. Ok, that’s a fucking lie, he thinks about it all the time – just has never allowed himself to actually make a move. Besides, he knows how it would end up. Like things always end up for him. But tonight, watching you with those guys – it’s hitting harder than usual.
The sound of your laughter makes him clench his teeth, and he clears the pool table with a series of forceful shots, one right after the other. An older man comes strolling over to challenge him, and Dean accepts, telling him to rack ‘em up as he grabs another drink. He does a shot of whiskey before taking his beer back to the table. Ok, might as well make a little money, pay for the drinks and maybe make a little gas money. It has nothing to do with keeping an eye on you. He ignores the voice inside him that tells him he’s full of shit.
You’re really enjoying yourself, laughing and talking, reminiscing about high school (which is the last time you saw these guys). Kurt, the one you really remember, is looking good, and apparently the feeling is mutual – he keeps touching you, hand on your shoulder, brushing your hair back, occasionally slipping an arm around your waist. You actually dated him a few times, and you’ve had enough beer and tequila shooters that your edges are softening and your walls are a little wobbly. After all, you were kind of looking to blow off some steam tonight, right?
You glance over at Dean when a little pang of guilt digs at you, but he’s focused on beating some guy at a game of pool, so you push it down and turn back to Kurt. His two buddies are restless, no other prospects for them to focus on. They all head for the bathroom in the back, and you order another beer, letting your eyes wander back towards Dean. He’s heading that direction, too, so you lean back on the bar and nurse your drink. Just want enough to keep the buzz going, keep that pleasant, blurry, happy glow.
You watch Dean come back into the bar, his face stormy. He doesn’t even glance your direction, and you wonder what’s going on with him. He’s probably pissed that you ditched him for some local dude, but you’re allowed to have some fun, right? I mean, you guys can hang out anytime.
Kurt comes back, his buddies vaguely mumbling ‘nice to see you’ and ‘catch you later’ as they head out for greener pastures. Kurt’s staying, so you smile, and he leans in to kiss you as he waits for his beer. It’s nice, not earth-shattering, but beggars can’t be choosers, and you’re to the point of settling in for the night. He’s cute, and he’s obviously interested, and it’s better than the vibrator in your bag at the motel, right? You tell him you’re heading for the little girls’ room, and he kisses you again, letting his hand roam a little, down over your hip, a little squeeze. You leave him with a little smirk, walking to the back hall and into the bathroom.
You wash up, check your hair, decide you don’t look bad for being half wasted, and head out. Dean is standing there, one shoulder propped against the wall by the door. “You know he’s a piece of shit, right?”
You roll your eyes. “You always think any guy I’m with is a piece of shit, Dean.”
He has his mouth held all tight, those little dimples above the corners of his mouth prominent. “Yeah, well, he really is. You didn’t hear him in the bathroom before telling his douchebag friends how he was gonna be balls deep inside you by midnight.”
You glare back at him, instantly pissed off. At Kurt, for being that guy, and at Dean for pointing it out. “Yeah, well, maybe that’s right where I want him.”
Before you can blink, your back is against the wall and Dean’s lips are crushed to yours, his hands gripping your arms hard enough to leave bruises. Your body betrays you, your brain shuts down, and for a few seconds you respond to his touch, the feel of his hard body pressing you into the wall, his lips at once soft and demanding. When you breathe again, your temper flares and you shove him hard, forcing him a step back as your eyes fire lasers at him. “What the fuck, Dean?”
“He doesn’t even know you. He has no idea what you’ve been through, who you are now. He doesn’t deserve to be with you.”
You are even more pissed off when you feel tears stinging your eyes. “First of all, not planning to marry him and have his children. Second of all – none of your goddamn business.” You turn on your heel and leave him standing there, heading out to the bar, reaching for your beer and draining it in one go. You order another, ignoring Kurt’s questions about what’s wrong. “I’m fine. Where were we?” you say, refusing to watch as Dean drops a wad of bills on the bar to pay the tab and stalks towards the door, which closes with a slam as he leaves.
Kurt tries valiantly to get your mood back to where it was before you left the room, you’ll give him an A for effort. But you finally have enough and turn to face him with a tight smile. “Sorry, Kurt, I’m gonna have to take off. Great to see you again.”
“Awww, don’t go. I was hoping…”
“To be balls deep inside me by midnight? Yeah, I heard.” You pat your hand firmly against his chest. “It’s okay, I’m sure you’re more than capable of taking care of that little problem yourself. You’ve probably had a lot of practice. See ya.” You head for the door and don’t look back to see the look on his face, but you can imagine it clearly. You smother a smile as you leave the bar, but it completely fades when you look across the way and see Dean leaning against the Impala, his head tipped back as he drinks from his flask.
“Oh, well – fuck it,” you mutter, squaring your shoulders and striding across the asphalt to reach the parking lot. Dean looks up as your boots crunch in the gravel, then looks back down, avoiding your eyes.
“Where’s the used-to-be frat boy,” he asks as you stop in front of him.
“Licking his wounds, I imagine.” He looks up, wanting to ask, but keeps his mouth clamped shut. “Come on, we need to talk,” you say as you walk to the door of your room and unlock it.
“About what?”
You turn and glare at him. “Just get your ass in here. Please.”
The frown on his brow would intimidate most people, but you’re used to it. He finally scuffs his feet around a little and reluctantly trudges towards you, shouldering his way through the door and crossing the room. He leans against the wall near the bathroom door, arms folded across his chest and his ankles crossed, those dimples showing the level of his displeasure.
You close the door and lock it, tossing the key card onto the table as you approach him and stop directly in front of him, staring into his defiant eyes. “Well, go ahead. Tear me a new one,” he bites out.
Instead, you step closer, place your palm against his chest and lean up, your head tilting a little to the side as your lips land on his, nibbling and nipping at that tempting bottom lip. You feel his chest tense up, and you draw back a little, meeting his wary gaze. “What… uh… are you doing?”
“You started this… you will forgive me if I finish it,” you manage, your voice raspy with restrained want as you kiss him again. His arms drop to his sides, and for a second or two he is still, as if he’s afraid to move, afraid he’ll make you shy away. When your tongue teases at his lips, he moves so suddenly that your heart trips up in your chest. He scoops you up, hands behind your thighs, perching you at his waist as he turns to hold you against the wall and return your kiss with a quiet desperation that makes you clutch him tight, your arms around his neck.
He kisses you like it’s what keeps him alive, savoring you, every glide of his tongue against yours a languid, thoughtful caress, and his lips are pure heaven, just like you’ve imagined a hundred times. His fingers are kneading rhythmically at your waist, his hips rocking into you slightly, and you adjust your position so his growing erection is hitting just the right spot, forcing a low moan from you both.
You break apart for a moment, both of you panting for air, and he buries his face in your neck, your name a rough whisper in your ear as he nibbles at your soft skin. You buck against him, your need a raging fire, your voice a desperate whine. “Dean, need you…”
“You got me,” he rumbles, kissing you again, fierce and ravenous, then turning to let your feet slide to the floor. You shove impatiently at his t-shirt, and the corner of his mouth quirks up in a little smirk as he complies, pulling it over his head and dropping it to the floor. He reaches for yours, watching your face as he begins to lift it, waiting for your eyes to tell him to continue before he pulls it off. His eyes are hungry as you unclasp your bra, letting it fall before reaching for him, your breasts crushed to his warm chest as your lips crash together again.
You finally push back, your eyes drifting shut for a moment as he brushes his fingers across your nipple. You reach for his jeans, opening the zipper and looking up at him as his jaw tics, his teeth clenched as you touch his heated skin. “Better get those boots off, yeah?” you smile, and he grins.
You both sit on the end of the bed, boots and socks flung out of the way, and before you can stand back up, he pushes you back on the bed and opens your jeans, tugging them down and bending to kiss your belly button, making you giggle. He works them down your legs, then goes after your panties, his tongue darting out over his lips as he finishes removing the last barrier. Your eyes are riveted to the bulge in his boxer briefs, his jeans barely hanging on to his hips, and you literally feel your mouth water and your pussy clench.
He drops to his knees and kisses his way slowly up the length of your legs, finally reaching the apex and dropping a gentle kiss to your mound. “Can I?” he asks, and you hear the want in his voice. You nod with a little whine, your head dropping back as he nuzzles his face between your thighs, rubbing his nose over your clit. The first sweep of his tongue through your folds punches a moan from your throat, and he responds, sending a delicious vibration over your sensitive flesh. He’s nudging and nibbling, driving you insane, finally spearing his tongue deep inside you as he moans again at your flavor.
He explores you thoroughly until you’re squirming beneath the onslaught, and you gasp as he slides a pair of those thick, calloused fingers inside you, stroking, curling. You’re on the edge already, and when he moves up to suck your clit into the warmth of his mouth, you buck up into him and come.
“Fuck, Deeean!” He keeps you at the peak of pleasure until you are begging him to stop, and he finally backs off, gently cleaning you with wide swipes of his tongue. He rubs a hand over his face, looking very satisfied with himself as he begins to stand, and you glare at him playfully, breathing hard. “Pants off, mister, and get your perky ass up here.”
“Perky? Really?” he says a little sarcastically, but he’s smiling.
“It is perky, and I want to see it naked.” He complies, an extra little wiggle as he finishes, and you laugh. “Get up here, Magic Mike.” You’ve moved yourself up to lie on the pillows, your breath catching in your throat for a second as he turns to walk towards the bed. Your imagination doesn’t hold a candle to the reality, and you take a breathless moment to appreciate him as he approaches, his cock proud and bobbing slightly as he moves. “Wait – side pocket of my bag, condoms…” you manage to say, and he turns to where your duffle sits on the chair in the corner.
He digs a little, then turns with a naughty smirk and raised eyebrow, your purple vibrator in his hand. You can’t help but laugh again at his expression, and he grins. “Another time maybe.” He puts it back, finding the original target and tossing the foil packet at you as he climbs onto the bed.
“Lay back – my turn to play,” you say, and move to let him settle himself in the middle of the bed, watching as you move down between his legs, his eyes glowing with anticipation. His stomach muscles jump as you reach for him, your fingers gently petting his erection, hot and hard and soft as velvet beneath your touch. He exhales harshly, his jaw working as he watches, swearing as you lean down to smother his cock with your breasts, your neck bent so you can run your tongue over the head.
“Jesus! Fff-uuuuuuck…” His hands are clawing into the bedding, the sexiest noises you’ve ever heard being punched from his chest as you suck the tip into your mouth, one hand squeezing at the tense, hard muscle of his thigh. You lift your body so you can bend and take him in deeper, pushing yourself to your limit, working him with your tongue and sucking hard as you pull back up. You do it again, and then once more, finally pulling off completely with a tease of your tongue into the slit. His chest is heaving with the effort of holding back, and when you tear open the packet, he reaches for your hand, shaking his head. “No… no, let me, I can’t...”
You hand it to him, watching as he grips the base of his cock, squeezing, his eyes clenched shut as he backs off the urge to come. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, and you can barely hold still, your cunt pulsing, impatient to be filled. Finally he blows out a breath, taking the condom out and rolling it over his length. You climb up over him, attacking his lips as he clutches at your breast, and your sigh mingles with his moan as you lick into his mouth hungrily.
You can’t take it any longer, raising up to reach for him, guiding him to your entrance, mouth open in a silent cry as you slowly take him in. There’s fire in his eyes as he watches you, his gaze moving from your face to where you are joined and back again. You whimper as he fills you completely, piercing the deepest part of you, and you bite at your lip as you savor the sensation of your body shifting, molding itself around him.
Dean reaches to run his hands over the soft skin of your thighs, squeezing gently. “C’mere, baby,” he whispers, and you lower yourself back down to kiss him. “You feel so damn good,” he murmurs against your lips, and you hum in response, grinding down against him.
“Mmmmm, so do you.” You begin to move, rocking against him, the delicious friction on your clit making you moan. Soon you want more, and you reluctantly abandon Dean’s lips to raise up so you can ride him for real. His fingers dig into your hips as he helps you move, and each time you drop down to take him deep it forces a muffled cry from you. You fuck him until your legs are burning, right at the edge, almost desperate.
Dean sits up, one hand holding you tight against him as he puts the other down between you to rub at your clit, a low groan in his throat as your pussy clenches around him. “Come for me, and I’ll roll you over and fuck you so hard,” he promises. You’re begging now, ‘please’ and ‘Dean’ and swearing, gritting your teeth, and when he leans close to your ear, growling, “Give it to me,” you do. You barely recognize yourself in the sound that bursts from you as blinding ecstasy floods through you, and Dean grunts as your cunt seizes around him with a vicious squeeze.
You’re still riding the wave of your orgasm when he manhandles you, flipping you to your back and seamlessly driving back inside you. You clamp your legs around him, hips rising to meet every thrust as he hits a fast, furious rhythm, his arms caging your body and his face buried in your neck. You’re shaking, fingers tearing at the bed, shouting as he hits his peak and bites down on the slope of your neck. “Fuck!” You feel his cock pulsing as he comes, and it makes you shudder, your muscles seizing up again for a moment before you go completely limp beneath him.
He relaxes slowly, his body heavy and warm on top of yours, his lips and tongue soothing the bite before he goes motionless. You both lie there, chests heaving together, riding out aftershocks with soft little whimpers and moans. He finally moves, pulling out of you, sending a hard shudder through your body, and he laughs softly, making you smile. He rolls to his back, ridding himself of the condom before turning back to pull you close.
For a while there are slow, lazy kisses and roaming hands, and then he turns to his back again, cradling you against his side, your head tucked into his shoulder. His last thought as he dozes off is that maybe he doesn’t have a normal life. But what he has, right now? Worth it.
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Tags for my lovelies:  @saenalife    @deanscarlett    @jensensgotyoudean    @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis    @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog    @geeklibrarian    @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid      @mrswhozeewhatsis    @littlegreenplasticsoldier    @sleep-silent-angel    @darcia22    @winchesterprincessbride    @ellen-reincarnated1967    @eyes-of-a-disney-princess      @deanslittleangel2y5    @melanie451        @spectaculacular-sammy     @bookchic20    @jodyri    @selma-jean-blog           @savingapplepie-eatingthings    @kittenofdoomage    @masked-maiden42    @lean-mean-deanwinchester    @ericuhlorain    @undecided-garden    @ceeceewinchester    @typicalweirdbookworm          @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit    @youtoldalie    @tanithlowisabamf-blog    @deandoesthingstome    @jxackles    @nerdwholikesword    @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic    @kreweofimp  @gabavaldman    @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog    @darkx143    @disassociativedogma    @ioanashalala    @jencharlan    @deansthirstblog     @dorky-and-i-know-it    @mischief-maker1    @winchestersandwordprocessors    @percussiongirl2017    @bringmesomepie56   @akshi8278    @torn-and-frayed    @sandlee44   @wingedcatninja  @evansrogerskitten   @emoryhemsworth  @peaceinourtime82  @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior  @sarcasmqueen74   @maliburenee     @mrsjenniferwinchester   @yeehawbitchs   @emily-winchester  @hobby27
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maximumkillshot · 5 months
Text
When You Call-Part 15
Warnings: So much Smut... Seriously all minors leave, Cursing I believe...
Pairing: Alpha! Dean Winchester x Reader
Characters: Alpha!Sam Winchester, Alpha!Dean Winchester, Reader
A/N: It has been LITERAL YEARS I'M SO SORRY. A lot of things happened that I wish didn't and I almost lost my spark entirely. Then with @emoryhemsworth, I finally got it back! SO ENJOYY!!
“All I Could Do” Masterlist- CLICK HERE
Overall Masterlist- Click Here
“When You Call” Masterlist- Click Here
“The Situation” Masterlist- Click Here
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I don’t think I’ve ever had a rut as long as this one, it was almost 2 weeks long. Y/N’s fever is finally going down too, which is great to hear. Also at the same time, I think my abs now rival that of Sammy’s so that’s also another good thing to come out of this. 
As my rut and her heat started going down we decided to have Sam come back home. As soon as she saw him she jumped into his arms. 
He chuckled as he said, “looks like someone is feeling better…” He brushed her hair back, taking note of all of the color coming back to her features and lack of heat under her skin. 
I smirked as she bounced, showing him the ring. The very same one that he helped me pick for her. He acted none the wiser, though.
I looked at her expression, not being able to remember the last time I felt this happy. When all of this would be a fever dream I’d get during my ruts when I was a horny teenager. Her being mine, us together, my mark on her. That one pipe dream would get me through anything, near-death experiences included.
I felt her circle behind me as she draped her arms over me. I relaxed into the touch.
I couldn’t help but think about what the rest of our lives are going to look like. Did I want to retire at some point? For her? Absolutely. I’ll take a desk job for her safety, for our pups, all of it. I’m getting ahead of myself though. 
“Wow you really did tame him.” Sam chuckled as he walked up to me and bumped fists, “look at him melting and you barely touched him.”
“Dean? He’s a teddy bear!” She giggled. 
I looked up at her as I said, “Nuh-uh I am your teddy bear, no one else’s.”
Sam laughed as he went off to his room to unpack.
Later on in the day as I was doing some research with Sammy, Y/N came in, “hey so I got a call from Jody, seemed urgent. I was thinking we could go and check it out.”
I could tell my demeanor changed just by the look she gave me. We? Hell no.
Sam looked at me, his eyes begging me not to do this. 
I finally opened my mouth, “Jody contacted you? But not Sam or myself. You wonder why, Omega?” It came out darker than I wanted it to, but I can’t help that I want to protect her. 
“She said you guys weren’t picking up. So she tried me, she also sends her apologies but this is one of those things that require the ‘Winchester touch’. Her words, not mine.” I could smell in her scent she was daring me to challenge her. 
“Sam, give us the room.” I ordered, keeping eye contact with her. 
“Dean just-”
“Did I stutter, Sam?” I growled. 
I was looking at Y/n the entire time, “Sam, go and pack, will you?” I said as I looked at her.
I felt her get brave at that, “Don’t talk to him like that.” She barked at me. I could see the hair stand up on her arms. I cocked my head to the side.
She started rounding the table as Sam got up, trying to get into the middle, “Ok we are not doing this right now.”
“I am going on this hunt,” I could hear the annoyance in her voice as I approached her.
As soon as Sam left the library. I got up out of my chair, standing to my full height.
“No you are not. What if something happens to you, huh?!” I chided, “what if you get hurt or worse?! What kind of Alpha would I be letting you go out there and risking yourself?” 
She rolled her eyes, “This isn’t up for debate,Dean.”
There is one look that she does, it’s a cross of ‘get the fuck out of my way’ and ‘are we clear?’, it shuts anyone up. She aimed that shit right at me. My worry and instinct threw all of that out the window though.
My eyebrows went up as I chuckled as I said, “You don’t get to tell me what is and isn’t up for debate, Omega.”
Her eyes narrowed, looking at me from all angles, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just use my title in that tone. I’m also going to pretend that you didn’t just try to insinuate that I am not going to go on this hunt simply because you are my mate.” 
I tilted her gaze to me as I came to a stop directly in front of her, “It’s cute how you act like you’re bigger and meaner than you actually are.” I brushed some hair out of her face as I continued,“At the end of the day it’s just talk and you know that. You know that you are more vulnerable, more… what’s the word…” I trailed off.
I could smell her getting increasingly angry, “Don’t go there Winchester…” She warned. 
“ More fragile.” I saw her gaze narrow…
“Ohohoho you fucked up Winchester.” She laughed… The air coming off of her had a looming presence. I clenched my jaw as she continued, “you know damn well I’m the farthest thing from fragile.”
She started to walk away as I yelled at her, “Not like I’m going to find out because you aren’t going anywhere Y/N” 
All I heard was the slam of our bedroom door. She may hate me now, but at least she’s safe. 
Y/N POV:
Who does he think he is?! I can feel my blood boiling and my mark aching as I went directly against what he wanted me to do. I have been doing nothing but trying to get back to 100% after all the shit that’s plagued my life recently. After he claimed me I thought that this is the signal of things turning for the better. Then I saw that look on his face.
That same fucking face that screamed that he knew better than I did. Never mind that I was the one who brought the hunt to their attention in the first place. Never fucking mind I solo’d more hunts than the both of them put together… Fragile? FUCKING FRAGILE?!
I may be an Omega but I am every bit of Alpha when it comes to hunting. I couldn’t help but feel a heat pool in my belly at the look that he gave me. It made me want to both slap and ride his face at the same fucking time, which does not help me in trying to calm down. 
I decide against destroying our room and instead go to a positive release. I put on my workout bra and my yoga pants and head to the gym.
I was almost in the room but I’m stopped by a wall of a man, Sam. 
“No… Going to blow off some steam?” He asked, willing his eyes to come up to meet my eyes. 
“Y/N?” He asked. I looked up at him and I could tell he was having issues.
“Something wrong, Sammy?” I asked as he blatantly stared at my body. 
To which I chuckled and responded, “Life isn’t fair Sammy, consider it a life lesson!”
“Yeah” I said, making sure to sway my hips just a tad. Was it wrong of me to wag my ass at my future brother in law? Yes… but it’s not like I haven’t done that shit before and as a matter of fact it’s a running joke with the both of us.
“Not fair Y/N.” I heard him scold me.
I heard him laugh behind me as I turned into the gym.
I started off with free weights trying to make sure I keep my form perfect. 
Dean POV:
“What did you say to her?” Sam asked me as he plopped his duffel onto the table. 
I was in the library thinking of how I could’ve handled that better. Once again my foot’s in my mouth when it comes to her. I just don’t get why she’s doing this. Making it hard to protect her. You would think that she would get my apprehension when it comes to her safety.
I smell Sammy come in before I can see him.
I looked at him, his face was red, like he couldn’t control himself. 
“Short story I told her she wasn’t coming with us, why?” I asked. 
“Because I caught her on the way to the gym, she's dressed to kill and looks like she is going to kill our equipment if you don’t apologize.” Sam grabbed my whisky glass and drained it in one gulp, then poured me more.
“She’s doing it on purpose.” I said nonchalantly, “I called her fragile.”
His jaw dropped, “wow… you really are stupid.” he chuckled. 
“It’s not that bad.” I trailed off.
“Oh it isn’t? Do I need to remind you what she did to the last hunter who called her a ‘fragile Omega who needs protecting?’” 
“He had it coming he tried to grab her ass, Sam.” I tried to defend myself.
“What. Did. She… Do?” he punctuated.
“She… she broke his wrist.”
“Right she broke his wrist, his forearm, and kneed him so hard in the balls he had to see a specialized urologist because he wasn’t sure if he could have kids after the damage she dealt out.” Sam shook his head, “You are lucky she loves you because I’d be scraping you off the floor otherwise and I think you know that.”
I huffed as I said, “Yeah I know. I just don’t know how to protect her otherwise.” I ran a hand through my hair as I touched my mark. It's been hurting since I had that encounter with her, like it’s trying to tell me that my other half is not happy right now and I should probably fix that. 
“Listen I’ll take care of the hunt, you stay here with your Omega.”
I looked at him and he continued, “Maybe if you’re sidelined too you’ll understand exactly what you’re asking of her. I’ll see you both in a few days.”
With that he was out the door. 
I shut down my laptop and slammed the whisky Sam re-poured for me. I started walking towards the gym to apologize after I gave her some time to get her aggression out… just in case. 
When I finally made it to the door I saw her there, drenched in sweat, in her workout gear and headphones in. She is going to town on a 200 pound punching bag. She was landing combos on it, punches and kicks and making it sway on its chain. 
I heard her grunts and her breathing. It made my dick stir in my pants. The more I listened in I could hear her saying, “fuckin’ *thwack* fragile..” and “pulled his *right jab* ass out of a unghh *slip jab* collapsing house *thwack* doesn’t sound *elbow strike* Fragile to me *Forward kick*”
I smirked as I watched her, I don't know how she is doing it but she’s pulling off cute and terrifying at the same time. I couldn’t help but giggle at that. The duality of her. I saw her sweat flying as stray strands of hair stuck to her temples, while others formed light curls as they hung in her face. 
I didn’t want to startle her so I tried to walk into her field of view. She looked at me and paused her music, taking off the headphones. 
“What?” She questioned as she went back to beating the punching bag to a pulp.
“Look what I said was wrong, okay?” 
She laughed at that, “I’m not going to stop hitting this bag because it is the only thing stopping me from beating the shit out of you. That is the least I can do.” She glared in my direction as she bared her teeth at me. “You’re lucky I’m even letting you speak after the shit you pulled. You do remember what I did to the other guy that tried to pull that shit, right?” 
“No shit. I pulled you and Sam out of buildings, dragged 200lb bodies, snapped bones with my bare hands, I don’t need you to tell me you were wrong. Because it’s pretty fucking obvious.” She said as she landed another kick on the bag.
“I’m trying to apologize here,” I quipped, “The least you can do is look at me.”
“Sam reminded me.” I huffed.
She looked at me smirking as she went back to the bag, “you fucking heard me.”
“There’s an Alpha I can get behind… well on top of.” She laughed to herself.
My jaw hung open at that, ‘What did you just fucking say?” I had to have heard wrong. 
I growled at her, “I know I fucked up but don’t you ever…”
“Ever what, Dean?” She stopped hitting the bag and started advancing on me, “Let me guess he was the one who told you to fix it? Right? My guess is he left without both of us, right?! He has more emotional intelligence than you could ever dream of possessing. Not to mention that he doesn’t try to fucking pidgeonhole me into being the ‘Perfect Omega’” She spat at me as tears threatened her eyes. 
“Why am I not enough,Dean? I never questioned you. I ran through hell and back for you, yet instead of letting me be me you pulled this shit and the only Alpha who fought for me and what I wanted was Sam. And even saying that makes me want to vomit because I don’t want him. I never did! I want you. I still want you! I want my Alpha to love me the way that I am!” she screamed at me. 
Before I could blink she was out of the room. It took me a second to process, “Don’t fucking walk away from me Y/N.” I spat as I looked into the hallway. 
I made it out there just in time to see her duck into the shower room.
I tore into that room like a bat out of hell.
I saw her starting the shower up as she said, “Take the fucking hint, Dean.”
I screamed at her, “You don’t get to run away after saying all of that shit to me after saying that you’d want my brother to claim you instead of me Y/N, that’s fucking low even for you!”
She looked at me and scoffed, “You are so fucking blind I’m surprised you haven’t gotten lasik.” 
I glared at her as she continued, “I never wanted Sam. I told your dumbass that. I want you to support me, to understand that I will never be the way that you want me to be. I will always run into danger because you run into danger and you are the only part of me that I love! The only part that’s worth saving!”
The next thing I know I’m pinning her to the shower wall and kissing her. I don’t care that we are fully clothed under the spray, my heart was aching hearing her say that… All of those things. I needed her to know what I couldn’t vocalize, the anger of hearing her say those things but not at her. At myself. I felt her trail her hands up my chest and around my neck
I nipped at her lips, begging to be let in, not like I deserved to be in the first place.
I kissed the corner of her mouth as it threatened to frown, “Please don’t hurt me like that.”
Almost immediately her mouth opened for me. I felt her undoing my belt and unzipping my jeans while I grabbed her sports bra and started to take it off of her. She whimpered when I pulled away but as soon as I took it off and ripped off my own shirt. I went right back to kissing her.
I could feel her chest heaving, as whimpers left her, I looked down at her to see her trying to fight tears, I kissed them away as fast as they fell saying, “Please don’t do that,Baby.” 
I kissed her temple, “Don’t say those things about yourself.”
Then her forehead, “You are worth so much more than me, my beautiful fiancee.”
I picked up her hands and kissed them, “My mate.”
I kissed down her chest, “My reason for breathing.”
I brought her pants and panties down her legs, kissing everywhere I could reach, “you save me every single day.”
 Tears threatened my eyes as I kissed up her body, “I love you so much it scares me.”
I looked at her as she wiped my face and I reveled in the touch, “That’s why I am the way I am… I almost lost you. I can’t.. I can’t lose you, Y/N.”
She looked into my eyes as I tried to calm myself, as if she knew what I needed she brought my lips to hers again. Just that simple contact set me on fire. I cradled her head in my hands, as if she’d break if I let go or use too much pressure.
She smiled at me as she did. Once she started working on herself, I grabbed the soap from her. 
I felt her push my jeans and boxers all the way to the floor and I kicked them away. I felt her draw circles on me as we kissed, it was something she just does when she can sense I’m stressed or in pain, sad.
She only broke that kiss to say, “I’m right here,Baby.” She kissed my palms and I went right back to kissing her. When she could sense she could break the kiss she grabbed soap and started working a lather in her hands, spreading it on my body. 
I spoke in whispers to her as I cleaned her, “This brings me back. Back when you need help because of your ribs.” I kissed her shoulders.
I smiled at her, “And I’m yours, always and forever.” I kissed her longer at that. I could smell her arousal as I trailed my hands down her curves. As if on command she trusted me completely as I picked her up, wrapping her legs around my waist.
She smiled at that memory, “I remember. Now look at where we are,” she looked at me with a smile that reached her eyes and a giggle that made my heart skip a beat. “Now we’re engaged. And I’m yours.” she touched her claim mark and kissed the one she left on me. 
I heard her giggling as kissed right under her ear. It’s moments like this that make the hell we went through worth it.
She pulled back and looked at me peppering my face with kisses making me giggle as I told her. “We don’t have a condom here, Omega.” 
She just smiled at me and said, “Good thing that the doctor put me on the pill in case we couldn’t wait. All he asks is that we use protection for the week and a half after we choose to start trying.”
This is my first time actually feeling her, “Shit, you feel so perfect Baby.” There is no other word to describe the way she feels. She’s perfect. 
I smiled as I said, “I completely forgot about that.” She smiled at me as I lined myself up with her.
As soon as sunk her down onto me we both let out a moan at the feeling.
“So are you, I can feel every vein, so good..” Was all she could say, “Made for me, love you so much.”
I kissed her with every ounce of pent up emotion I’ve had, I started moving as soon as I was sure I wouldn’t blow my load early. I want this to last as long as possible, but with how she’s squeezing me I can tell that is a big ask from the both of us, given how we’ve been unintentionally teasing each other this entire time. 
My hands went from her waist to her ass as I kissed and nipped at her neck. I slowly started lifting and guiding her back onto my shaft. When I looked at her I had to bite my lip so hard I nearly drew blood. 
Her eyes were blown out, her kiss swollen lips were open slightly letting out the most sinful moans I have ever heard come out of a person. That’s all secondary to the fact that when I looked at where we were joined, I could literally see an outline of my cock in her stomach. 
I moved one of my hands to the bulge, I couldn’t help but moan at the sight. She followed my gaze and smiled at me. I crashed my lips back into hers as I picked up the pace slightly. The only things that could be heard in the shower room were our moans, the water from the shower, and skin on skin. 
Feeling her squeeze me like a vice while her nails scratched at my back, leaving a trail of delicious heat after them.
Everything started building. Hearing her moans.
Her lips sucking on my skin, her chest sliding against mine.
All of this would make any man cum alone but the cherry on top of all of this was her breathlessly begging me to cum.
“Please, Alpha, cum for me. Fill me up. I need it. Baby please.”
That’s what did it as my knot popped and I filled her completely, so much so that her stomach was distended. 
I came so hard that I had to use a hand to support us on the shower wall. 
When I looked at Y/N I could see that she was still very high off of her orgasm, so I just held her tight to my body, angling her head so that she could scent me. 
‘It’s okay I got you Omega, breathe I got you.” I petted her hair back as I turned off the shower and grabbed a towel for us.
I made sure to cover her first as I walked back to our room. 
By the time I dried us off and peeled back the covers she started coming to…
“De-Dean” 
I smiled at hearing her voice, she is so out of it. That fact that I made her that way made my heart swell a bit. She feels safe enough to let go completely like this, knowing I’ll take care of her.
I laid the towel down for when my knot finally deflated, although I can tell it’s not going to happen for a while. 
I laid her down on the bed with me on top, so no pressure is on the knot and I put the blanket over us. 
I finally got to see her face as I pulled back, “Hey Beautiful, welcome back.” I said as I kissed her nose. 
She scrunched her face and said, “That hit different.”
I started laughing as I said, “you looked like you were  just gone, Baby I’m not gonna lie.”
She smirked and said, “That was an out of body experience right there, I astral projected like Dr.Strange or something.”
I started full on belly laughing as I looked at her I held up two fingers and I said, “How many am I holding up?”
She swatted my chest and she said “Two.” 
I laughed as I got lotion from the side table and moisturized her entire body, getting her to relax. Afterwards, I just cuddled her, putting my head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat as I waited. 
Maybe 20 mins later I could finally pull out. 
As soon as I did I cleaned her up and went to get her water. 
Then she looked up with tired eyes, “Can we cuddle?”
How could I say no to that. The laundry, the clothes, all of that can wait. 
I climbed into bed with my Omega and not even a few minutes later, we fell into a peaceful sleep.
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newtdrawz · 2 months
Text
Sam Winchester
Think of me once in awhile by take care
Thank you goodnight
Yeah,,
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tripthedharmadivine · 2 months
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Little Gem - Chapter Eight
"Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your hearth or burn down your house, you can never tell."
–Joan Crawford
18+ Minors DNI
Pairing: Jake x f!reader
Word count: ~9,700
Playlist: Spotify
Warnings: smut 18+, slight dirty talk, mentions of drinking/smoking/drug use, mentions of abusive relationships/partners, mentions of potential scary situations, dog attack/biting, cussing, kissing, fluff, mentions of police presence, and violence.
"Great session, everyone! Looking forward to the next one," you called out, shutting down the sound equipment and gathering your belongings. The early finished session at the studio you worked for left the late afternoon free to soak in the day's warmth.
Slipping into your car, your phone buzzed with a call from Sam. With a smile, you answered, "Already missing me?" It had only been about two days since you last saw him.
He chuckled softly before replying, "Yes, but that's not why I'm calling."
In the background, Josh's voice boomed, followed by the familiar laughter of your sister. "Did you ask her yet?"
"What's going on?" You started the engine, sliding your phone between your chest and the seat belt while activating the speaker.
"Wanna join us for sushi?" Sam's voice crackled through the speaker. "They're all a bit... relaxed," he chuckled, "and I promised I wouldn't take them anywhere unless I had a sober companion. So, what do you say?"
"I don't know, Sam. I'm not exactly dressed to go eat," you mentioned, merging onto the main road.
"Tell her she looks stunning in anything," Jake's voice chimed in, followed by your sister's affectionate "Aw."
"Wait, am I on speakerphone?" you asked, a hint of annoyance creeping into your tone.
"Yeah, everyone can hear you," Sam confirmed.
"Why not just order takeout?" You asked, though your car was already steering towards Josh's place.
"Fuck you. Come on, take me out to dinner before I leave tomorrow," El's voice crackled with playful insistence.
"Such a charmer," you retorted, rolling your eyes at the playful banter.
"They were painting earlier," Sam began, trying to stifle a laugh. "Josh and Jake decided it was a brilliant idea to sit bare-assed in paint while smoking, claiming it was some form of artistic expression on canvas." The absurdity of the scene made you chuckle. “Please help me.”
"Alright, Sammy. Anything for you," you replied, a smile evident in your voice, before ending the call. In the background, Jake's grumbled "fuck you guys" echoed before the line went silent.
💎💎💎
Pulling into Josh’s driveway, Sam dashed out to meet you, slightly out of breath. "They won't quit smoking and drinking. It's driving me crazy."
You chuckled. “It can't be that bad, Sam.” Following him through the house and out to the backyard, you found Jake and Josh attempting to lift your grill together.
“One, two, three,” they both shouted in unison, but you quickly intervened, grabbing their attention.
"Put my damn grill back on the ground!" you bellowed, charging down the stairs toward the mischievous duo. "What in the world are you two up to?"
"We wanted to try underwater grilling," Josh explained with a mischievous grin. "You know, give our food the same sensory experience as being in water, altering its catecholamine balance."
"What on earth, Josh? Seriously, think about that for a moment," you retorted, shaking your head in disbelief. "Just put my grill down!" You punctuated your demand with a firm stomp of your foot.
"Or what?" Jake challenged, a hint of accent slipping into his words.
"Or I'll knock your teeth so far down your throat, you won't know whether you're spittin’ or shittin’," you retorted, narrowing your eyes at Jake, your gaze unwavering.
"She's dropping the G's in her speech. She means business," Elmarie chimed in from the porch, her tone adding weight to your threat.
"And you," you turned to El, striding up to the porch. "Ain’t you got any sense? You were just gonna stand there while they tried to throw that into the pool?" You pivoted back to the boys, who stubbornly held onto the grill. “Jacob and Joshua, I swanee, put my grill down now!”
They both dropped it at the same time, making it crash to the ground. You shook your head, closing your eyes as it began to twitch. Looking up at Sam, he gave you a mixed look of sadness and worry.
"They're not going anywhere. I'll fetch some sushi. Just give me your orders," you declared, turning towards the back door, but Sam halted you.
"You can't leave them here," Sam implored, extending his hand towards you. "Please, take one of them with you. Jake's turned into Oliver, it's unbearable."
"I can hear that," you said, shooting Jake a look as he smirked and raised his eyebrows. "Alright, El can with me," you proposed, gesturing towards her.
"No!" Sam exclaimed, his eyes widening in desperation. "Please, take one of the twins. They feed off of each other!" You sighed, reluctantly glancing over at where his brothers stood, observing the scene with amusement.
“Fine. Which one of you is gonna go with me?” You called out.
"Jakey, obviously. He's head over heels..." Josh blurted out. Before he could finish, Jake swiftly shoved him, sending Josh tumbling into the water with a splash. With a muttered "shut up," Jake joined you at your side.
Sam called the restaurant placing an order as Josh shouted out what he wanted from the pool. Jake just stood near you in the kitchen, waiting for Sam to give the all-clear. He wouldn't stop looking at you as you leaned back against the counter. El and Josh strolled around the living room, giggling at each other and making flirty passes.
Heading towards the front door, you shook your head. “Sorry, Sam,” you called, walking through the living room.
“For what?” He turned to you.
“Dear God,” he said, catching sight of your sister and Josh making out on the couch. “Josh, you’re soaking wet.”
You and Jake made it to your car and headed to the take-out place. Jake looked at you as you drove down the street in your Jeep, his hair whipping all around as he smiled at you. You took the top and doors off your jeep this morning hoping to get some sun on your skin. Stopping at a stop sign, Jake held his hand out. You looked at him, confused.
“Show me,” he said, giving his hand a little shake. You sighed as you intertwined your fingers with his, placing the gear shift in between the two palms and shifting as you went down the road. He smiled as he watched both of your hands shift gears. A little laugh escaped his lips, making you smile. When you were done shifting, you rested the top of your hand on the shifter.
Jake let out a little chuckle, shaking his head. You looked over at him once again, confused.
"Anything for you, Sammy," he said in a mocking tone, fully turning his head to look at you. "How was it?" Jake asked, his tone shifting, catching you off guard. Your eyebrows pinched together as you glanced at him out of the side of your eye. "Sam. How was he?"
You shook your head, surprised by his question, unsure how to respond.
“Jake,” you warned.
“I just wanna know. Was it a continuous thing or just one time?” He gripped your hand tighter.
“Jake, I'm not talking about your brother's skills in the bedroom,” you said, trying to look anywhere but at him. “It was just the one time. You know that. Plus, we’re over that. It was a good minute ago.”
“Oh, so he's skilled?” He nodded. “Good for him.” You shook your head again, your leg started to bounce as you picked up your speed, trying to get to the restaurant quicker. “Do you always wear my clothes?”
You looked down, realizing you grabbed the first thing you saw this morning. The floral button-up shirt rode up high on your body, leaving no room to tuck it in, so you left it draped open. The short sleeves offered some relief from the relentless humidity of the South.
"It was the first thing I saw this morning. I thought it was El’s," you explained, shaking your head.
“Right. I like the little bralette and tight bike shorts.” He pulled his hand away from yours and placed a finger under the hem of your shorts. The skin he was touching felt like it was on fire. “So tell me. Was he good?” He placed his hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze.
You huffed giving in. “Yeah, Jake. He was good.” The grip on your thigh got tighter.
“Better than me?” You shot a look at him. His eyes were dark, and his expression almost angry, mixed with jealousy. You shrugged, not answering. “Answer me.” The tone in his voice did something to you, making you shiver a little.
“No,” you didn't look at him as you answered. Sam was good. He, for sure, knew what he was doing, but it felt different with Jake. Sam was good, but Jake was better.
“That's what I thought.” He leaned a little closer to you. “I'm the only one who knows how to treat you just right, huh? The only one who can make you feel that good?” You gripped the wheel tighter, giving him a quick nod. A little chuckle came from him as he flicked your hair off your shoulders. “That’s what I thought.”
You finally pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, quickly turning your car off and hopping out before Jake could say anything else. You went up to the counter, giving the name for the order and your card before they handed you your bags and card back. With a quick thank you, you headed back outside to Jake and your car.
Placing the food in the backseats, you got situated in your seat before heading back out to the main road.
“I ended it ya know,” Jake said softly. You looked over at him, his eyes locking into yours, the high evident in his bloodshot eyes.
“I know.” You whispered.
“I'm not going to see her again. I went and got the rest of my things yesterday.” Your heart fluttered a little at his words, but all you did was look forward, nodding as you drove back to Josh. He leaned his head back on the headrest, eyes closed, slightly nodding his head to the music.
Pulling into Josh's driveway, Jake's head rolled lazily, and he looked at you, biting his lips like he was trying to suppress a smirk. You quickly jumped out, grabbing the food before you climbed over on top of Jake.
Walking in, you saw Sam with his head in his hand as he sat on the couch. You placed the food on the coffee table, crouching down, putting your hands on the side of his face, pulling him up to look at you.
"Sam, are you okay? Did they get to you?" You scrunched to see his face, and as he looked up, he started laughing. The redness in his eyes giving away that he was, in fact, also high. "Sam, you're high?" You whined.
"Can't beat 'em, join 'em, right?" He said, laughing again. You pushed his head with a groan as Jake walked in, passing the two of you.
"Where's Josh and El?" You asked, standing up.
"Bedroom," he pointed all around. You nodded and left to go outside. You pulled a cigarette out of your purse, lighting it as you walked down the steps to pick your grill up from the ground. You huffed, putting the cigarette in your mouth and making the grill stand back upright, taking a long drag.
You took your shoes off, sitting on the edge of the pool and dipping your feet in the cool water. Jumping a little at the temperature, soon there were four legs in the pool, two beside yours as you looked over to see your sister smiling from ear to ear as she surveyed the backyard.
“Are you happy?” You asked, placing your hand on hers.
“Yes,” she said with a nod.
“Good. You deserve to be happy,” you said, giving her a smile.
“So do you,” she said, giving you a sad look.
“I am happy,” you replied.
“I want you to be happy like I'm happy. Like the happiness Josh brings me. I want that for you.”
You sighed, “I don't need a man to be happy. You know that.”
“I do, but it's nice. Waking up to the smell of them lingering in the bed, warmth in a usually cold bed, sweet nothings whispered to you as you wake up, and endless compliments throughout the day.” Elmarie smiled as she talked, making you smile. You turned around to see Jake standing on the porch watching you and your sister with his own cigarette in his mouth.
“I'm working on it,” you smiled at her. You stood up, grabbed your shoes, and walked over to Jake before going inside.
“Can we eat? I'm starving,” Josh whined. You giggled as you tried to find plates in the cabinets. Jake came up beside you, opening the last cabinet you were about to look in and pulling out plates for everyone. He smiled at you as he handed you one plate and walked to the living room with the others.
After eating and cleaning up, everyone seemed to calm down. No more giggling or trying to throw things in the pool. Just calm as you all sat around watching a movie.
Josh, El, and Sam took over the couch, creating a cozy pile of people and blankets. Jake stood up from the recliner next to the couch, but you motioned for him to stay seated as you crawled over and settled beside him. Draping a leg over his, you both were covered by a blanket he tossed over the both of you. You felt Jake nuzzling his face into your hair, and warmth crept over your face as you heard the faint sound of him breathing in the scent of your shampoo.
You knew you had apologized to him for causing issues and not being able to keep your mouth shut, but you weren't one hundred percent over him basically keeping a secret from you. You decided to let the moment pass, enjoying being near him like this again.
When the movie ended, you patted El's thigh to get her attention. "I've gotta get home. Sally awaits," you announced. El groaned as she clutched your hand.
"Call you tomorrow," she said before letting your hand go. You nodded, placing a hand on Josh's shoulder, giving it a little squeeze as he patted it. After saying goodbye to the other two, you headed out the door.
💎💎💎
As Sally explored the outdoor scents with boundless enthusiasm, you found a quiet moment to enjoy the solace of the night. The soft glow of the moonlight cast shadows, and you took a contemplative drag from your cigarette, the tendrils of smoke dancing in the air.
Upon returning inside, you went through the nightly rituals, shedding the day's layers and slipping into the comfort of your pajamas. The familiar routine served as a gentle transition, preparing you for the sanctuary of your bed.
Lying in bed, the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm ambiance, your mind became a whirlwind of thoughts, all centered around Jake.
Questions danced through your mind like shadows on the walls. You pondered the details of Jake's evening, the events that had unfolded after you parted ways. A subtle smile played on your lips as you imagined his expressions, the quirks in his laughter, and the subtle glances exchanged throughout the day.
As you gazed at the ceiling, the weight of uncertainty settled in. Wondering if Jake had already succumbed to sleep, you envisioned the peaceful expressions that might grace his face in slumber. A soft sigh escaped you, tinged with the anticipation of the unknown.
In the quiet moments before sleep claimed you, the echo of the night whispered secrets of anticipation and desire. The warmth of your bed cradled you, and you closed your eyes, drifting into a world where the boundary between dreams and reality blurred, and the essence of Jake lingered in the gentle embrace of the night.
💎💎💎
Seated at a sunlit cafe table, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped the air as you made a call to Elmarie.
"How’s it being back home?" you asked, gratitude evident as you received your coffee from the barista. Stepping outside into the gentle bustle of the sidewalk, Elmarie's pause hinted at uncertainty.
"Quiet. Lonely," she huffed, her sadness clearly evident in her words. “I miss you. I miss Josh already.”
You settled into a chair at an outside table, pursing your lips in disappointment. As you savored the warmth of your coffee, you responded, "It's okay. I understand," lightly tapping the lid, a rhythmic beat accentuating the conversation.
"Wanna hear something funny?" You giggled to yourself.
"Always," El said, matching your laugh.
"Jason wants me to bring his brother to the release party," you chuckled again.
"Why don't you take Jake?" El's tone turned serious. "Josh will be gone, Maggie is going with Sam, and Danny will be Emberly’s arm candy for the night. Jake won't be doing anything."
"I don't know," you said, hesitant.
“Oh come on. You know he’ll say yes.”
"Eh, I'll think about it. I'm not sure where we stand. It's been a few days since he told me he ended things with Claire."
"Ah. So you're scared," El remarked, matter-of-factly.
"Scared? Why would I be scared?"
"Because Jake is now actually single, and nothing is standing in your way but you and this unreasonable fear of the future and things that may or may not happen."
"Excuse me. I'm working on that shit, okay? I’m actually doing pretty well with it thank you," you huffed.
"As you should be. You probably should pay your therapist more."
"They get paid plenty," you joked. "Speaking of which, I need to let you go because I do have a session soon."
"Okay, love you."
"Love you more," you said before hanging up, grabbing your coffee, and heading to your car.
Once seated in your car, you engaged in a therapy session over the phone. The soft murmur of your therapist's voice navigated the intricacies of affirmations and the strategies that had proven effective for you. In the cocoon of your car, you explored the labyrinth of your thoughts and emotions, unraveling the threads of self-discovery and healing. The affirmations, like whispered promises, resonated in the confined space, weaving a tapestry of resilience and strength. As the session unfolded, the vehicle became a sanctuary—a place where the echoes of your inner journey harmonized with the hum of the engine, propelling you forward on the road of self-improvement.
During the therapy session, the topic inevitably shifted to Jake. Your therapist, a compassionate guide through your emotions, listened attentively as you unraveled the complexities of your feelings. You shared the worries that danced in the corners of your mind like elusive shadows — concerns about the nature of your connection with Jake, uncertainties about the future, and the delicate balance between self-discovery and vulnerability.
In the safety of the conversation, you explored the intricacies of your emotions, laying bare the raw edges of your thoughts. The therapist's gentle prompts encouraged you to reflect on your fears, aspirations, and the evolving dynamics with Jake. Together, you navigated the stormy seas of self-doubt and contemplated the possibility of connection.
Sitting in your car, you decided to bite the bullet, and give Jake a call. As the phone rang, your thoughts swirled with a mix of nerves and determination.
"Hey," he said casually.
"Hey, Jake," you began, trying to keep your tone light. "I have a bit of a favor to ask. You see, there's this release party for the album, and my original date won't be in town for it. I was wondering if you'd be my plus one."
There was a moment of silence on the other end, and you anxiously awaited his response.
"For Little Gem’s album release, huh?" Jake finally replied, his tone playful. "That's a big deal. Of course, I'm in."
Relief washed over you, and you couldn't hide the smile in your voice. "Great! Thank you, Jake. It means a lot to me."
"No problem," he responded. "Just let me know the details, and I'll be there."
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, you ended the call, feeling a mix of excitement and gratitude for Jake's willingness to be there for such a significant moment in your music career. The release party now held the promise of being an even more memorable and supportive event with Jake by your side.
💎💎💎
A few days go by, and you found yourself at a meeting with Jason about the party, you and your bandmates enthusiastically embraced the idea of semi-matching outfits. The label company's request for a more upscale dress code added an element of anticipation to the already exciting event.
Determined to find the perfect ensemble, you ventured into numerous stores, enduring the fatigue in your feet until you finally discovered the outfits that resonated with your group's vision. Satisfied with your choice, you proceeded to the nail salon to pamper yourself with a manicure. The call to your preferred hair salon followed, securing an appointment to ensure your hair would complement the overall look.
With all your preparations for the day set in motion, you returned home. Parking your car, locking the gate, and releasing Sally for a quick outdoor break, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. As you waited for your food delivery, you decided to treat yourself to a glass of wine.
Your food quickly arrived and you olaced the korean food on the counter. Embarrassingly you ordered enough to feed at least four people but you couldn’t decide what you wanted so you ordered everything that sounded good to you. Sally made it known that she wanted to go back outside so you let her.
Suddenly, Sally's warning bark startled you, causing a slight jump. Rushing to the front door and calling for Sally, you found her with raised hackles and a low growl, her attention fixed on an unseen presence. Closing the door with a curious yet cautious demeanor, you couldn't shake the feeling that something out of the ordinary was lingering in the air.
Panicking, you quickly locked the back door and rushed to the front of the house, peering through the windows again toward the front porch. There, a man stood by the fence leading to your walkway. Frantically searching for your phone, you dialed Jake's number.
"Hello?" Jake answered, confusion evident in his tone.
"Please tell me you are standing outside my house." you said urgently. However, as you continued to observe the man, you noticed no light emanating from a phone screen, and there was no movement as Jake spoke.
"No," Jake replied, still puzzled. "Y/N, is someone in your yard again?"
"I have to go," you said, abruptly ending the call and dialing 911. Uncertain why Jake was your initial call, perhaps a fleeting hope of a sick prank. As the dispatcher urgently sought your emergency details, the ominous figure undid the latch on the gate, advancing toward your home.
Panic seized you; you dashed around, frantically securing doors and windows, relaying your address and the escalating situation to the dispatcher. Checking the front door for the third time, anxiety heightened.
The dispatcher assured you that help was on the way just as the intruder infiltrated your yard, disappearing from sight at the side of the house. Unable to see him, your panic intensified. Racing to the back door, you double-checked the lock, then hurried back to the front, only to notice headlights outside.
Someone sprinted towards your house. "Jake?!" you screamed, flinging the door open, hoping for a familiar face in the midst of the unfolding nightmare.
"What's going on?" Jake asked, breathless. You grabbed his arm, pulling him inside your house and swiftly locking the door.
"There was a man, just standing there, and now he's in my yard somewhere."
"Ma'am?" You heard the 911 operator say. Focusing on the call, she informed you that the police were on their way. A loud crash echoed from your backyard, prompting a scream from you, and Sally rushed to the back door, barking. Jake moved closer, attempting to comfort you amidst the chaos.
Soon, the police arrived, engaging in conversation at your front door. One officer went around to inspect your backyard, returning with the report that they couldn't find anyone, but your property had sustained damage. You and Jake stepped outside to assess what they were referring to – your shed doors showed dents, patio furniture was overturned, the lights hung from post torn down, and a glass top from one of the tables lay shattered. The eerie aftermath of the night unfolded before you as the police worked to unravel the mysterious events.
Tears welled up as you surveyed the shattered remnants of your once-happy patio, a place filled with cherished memories now marred. With a shaky breath, you expressed gratitude to the officers who assured additional patrols in the coming weeks.
Sinking onto your couch, head in your hands, uncertainty clouded your thoughts. Jake swiftly joined you, calling Sally over, offering a comforting presence. He gently rubbed your back as you released a cry, leaning into his side, finding solace in his embrace.
"Hey," he spoke softly, "why don't you gather your things and spend the night with me?"
You hesitated, contemplating the logistics, "But Sally," you began.
"I don't care about the dog hair, or anything else. I just want you and Sally to feel safe," Jake reassured, and you nodded, not yet ready to leave the cocoon of his arms.
As Jake gathered your belongings, he efficiently loaded them, along with Sally, into his car. The drive to his house was quiet, and you peered out the window, taking in the serene surroundings. Pulling into his driveway, Jake ushered you and Sally inside. After bringing in all your belongings, he arranged your food on the coffee table, complete with a plate and a glass of wine.
Expressing your gratitude, you smiled up at him, “Thank you.” He took a seat next to you, and you asked, “Have you had dinner yet?” He shook his head, and you offered him a the plate. "It's spicy pork bulgogi, kimchi, japchae glass noodles, bibimbap, and dumplings – all with a bit of heat. You know, everything that hurts your stomach.”
“I’ll eat a tums or something,” he admitted with a smile.
“Well, enjoy!” you said, setting out each container. When he asked if you were expecting company, you chuckled, “No, I just couldn't decide what I wanted.” Feeling a bit embarrassed, you reached for the container of bibimbap and began to eat. Jake, making his way through the various dishes, let out a contented sound as he savored each sample.
After wrapping up dinner, you stored the leftovers in the fridge. Following Jake's invitation to make yourself at home, he headed for a shower. Seizing the moment, you released Sally into the yard, reveling in her joyful exploration. She soon came back to you ready to go back inside.
Taking a casual stroll through Jake's house, you glanced into each room you passed. One room captivated your attention – a musical haven filled with instruments, a desk strewn with papers, and a gallery of posters and art. The familiar scent of Jake enveloped the space. Your eyes landed on a U harp guitar, and you couldn't help but smile at the seemingly ridiculous instrument in Jake's eclectic collection.
Venturing further, you reached his record player, where an enticing assortment of albums awaited. Your eyes landed on one titled "Slowhand," and a smile played on your lips as you pulled it out, placing it on the turntable. Eric Clapton's voice filled the room with "Cocaine."
Settling into a plush leather chair, you surrendered to the melody, relishing the distinctive ambiance of Jake's carefully curated sanctuary. A subtle blend of amber and musk wafted through the air, catching your attention. Unconsciously, you leaned back, closing your eyes, lost in the enchantment of Eric Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight."
The sound of Sally’s nails clacking on the floor signaled her arrival. She came into the room and plopped down on the small couch placed in the corner. You motioned for her to get down, which she reluctantly did, going to lay under Jake’s desk. You chuckled as she huffed, and you leaned your head back, resuming listening to the record you put on.
Raising your head once more, you discovered Jake standing in the doorway, bathed in the soft glow of the room's lamps that accentuated his sun-kissed skin. His damp hair hinted at the recent shower, and a smile adorned his face, showcasing charming dimples. In that moment, you couldn't help but smile back at the man who exuded pure beauty.
As the soulful notes of "Lay Down Sally" filled the room, Jake approached you, extending his hand. Eagerly, you accepted, and together, you moved to the rhythmic beat, dancing in harmony. He serenaded you with gentle lyrics, his warmth seeping into your being as you twirled around each other.
"I thought you weren't much of a dancer," you teased as he twirled you around the room, eliciting a small chuckle from him.
“I long to see the morning light, color in your face so dreamily. So don't you go and say goodbye, you can lay your worries down and stay with me. Don't you ever leave,” Jake sang, briefly pulling away to gracefully twirl you under his arm, only to draw you back into his embrace.
Jake's hushed words accompanied the music, "Lay down, Sally, and rest here in my arms, don't you think you want someone to talk to? Lay down, Sally, there's no need to leave so soon, I've been trying all night long just to talk to you," a delicate shiver traced down your spine. A spontaneous giggle escaped your lips when he playfully twirled you once more, releasing you to stand a few inches apart. Both of you, now with smiles that spoke volumes, lingered in the shared warmth of the moment.
As the last chords of the song faded away, the room lingered with a comfortable silence. Jake, still holding your gaze, broke into a grin.
"Quite the dance partner you are," he remarked, his eyes reflecting a playful light.
You chuckled, feeling a pleasant warmth in the air. "Well, you're not too shabby yourself."
The ambiance was charged with a subtle energy, a connection between you two that seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment. Jake took a step closer, his fingers gently tracing the contours of your hand.
"Care for another dance?" he inquired, his voice a soft invitation.
You smiled. “Can we watch a movie?” He smiled back, motioning for you to follow him. Heading to the living room, he grabbed some blankets from a basket, handing you one as he settled into what you assumed was his usual spot on the couch. “Let me go get changed.”
“I put your stuff in my room. Through that hallway all the way at the end,” he said. You nodded before turning on your heels and making your way to his room.
Walking into Jake's room, the first thing you noticed was the strong, distinct smell of Jake. Taking a deep breath, your eyes involuntarily closed as you soaked it in. Mid-century furniture was scattered throughout, and three large picture frames hung above the bed, each showcasing real guitars centered in the middle. You were in awe of his room—it was so well put together, not at all what you'd expect. Built-in shelves showcased even more records and some old-looking books. A candle sat next to a record player in the middle of the built-in entertainment center. You picked it up, smelling it, and a groan fell out of your mouth. It smelled like Jake—warm leather, amber wood, and aged brandy. Delicious.
His bed looked incredibly inviting, with a plush dark duvet neatly folded down, showcasing the snow-white sheets against the backdrop of the black velvet headboard. You felt a twinge of embarrassment that you'd never spent time in his house before. Your own house seemed like a shack compared to how well put together Jake's house was. A twinge of anger shot through you as you remembered Jake spending all that time at your place, essentially hiding from Claire, knowing she might show up here.
You found your bag waiting for you at the end of his bed and swiftly changed into more comfortable clothes. Heading back to the living room, you found Jake sitting on the couch with a bowl of popcorn in his lap. He was tossing pieces to Sally.
"Jake, you can't give her people food," you teased, shaking your head.
He gave you a sly smile. "Sorry. She's just such a good dog. Hard to tell her no," Jake said, his eyes lingering on you for a moment. You felt a little self-conscious under his gaze as you stood there. You had brought the only matching set of pajamas you had: a black silk lapel short-sleeve top with matching silk shorts. The fabric felt luxurious against your skin, but right now, it felt like it was burning as Jake looked at you.
You strolled over to Jake and plopped down on the other end of the couch. He gave you a smirk as you settled in, taking some of his blanket and pulling your cold toes under his thigh for extra warmth. He chuckled, propping his feet on the coffee table.
"What movie do you want to watch?" Jake asked, turning on the TV.
"It's a Wonderful Life?" You looked at him with a sheepish grin.
"Seriously?" Jake raised an eyebrow, amused. "Isn't that a Christmas movie?"
"Yes, but it's one of my favorites," you admitted, reaching for the remote and opening the streaming app.
He placed a hand on top of your covered shin, giving it a little squeeze. "What are some of your other favorites?"
"Um," you said, finding it hard to think with his hand on you. "To Kill a Mockingbird, Grapes of Wrath, The Color Purple."
Jake laughed, "How old are you?" You leaned up, giving his arm a shove.
"Those are good movies. Even better books!" You teased. "All those books are Pulitzer Prize winners."
Jake chuckled, "Pulitzer Prize winners, huh? Are you secretly a literature professor?"
You rolled your eyes, "Hey, I appreciate good stories, okay? Besides, literary awards are a mark of quality."
He raised an eyebrow, teasing, "Next, you'll be telling me you've won a Pulitzer."
You grinned, "Well, not yet, but who knows?" Then, you playfully added, "Did you know Kendrick Lamar won a Pulitzer in 2018 for his album DAMN?"
Jake looked genuinely surprised, "Wait, seriously? A rapper won a Pulitzer?"
You nodded, "Yep! It was a historic moment. Shows you, great storytelling transcends genres."
He laughed, "I guess I need to broaden my award-winning horizons. Put on your beloved Christmas movie, Pulitzer connoisseur."
With that, you gracefully moved over and nestled into Jake's lap, resting your head on his thighs as you searched for the movie. He draped an arm over your waist, and you found warmth under the blanket you had playfully stolen from him.
"You know," you mused as the movie began, "'Battle at Garden's Gate' could have totally won a Pulitzer." A chuckle escaped Jake, but he remained silent. "It is a vastly dynamic album and it’s very intense." You glanced up at Jake, quoting words he once used to describe your favorite album. "It's very orgasmic and cinematic." A playful smile graced your lips as he looked at you, realizing the playful twist in your words. “But the Grammy's are impressive, too.”
He rolled his eyes, but a subtle smirk betrayed his true feelings. "Watch your terrible movie and stop quoting me," he teased. With a giggle, you turned your attention back to the TV. As the movie unfolded, your eyes grew heavy, and soon, you found yourself drifting into sleep.
Upon waking, you chose to stay still, eyes closed, savoring the sensation of fingers gently playing in your hair and the soothing sound of Jake's quiet singing.
“Lonely rivers flow, to the sea, to the sea, to the open arms of the sea,” his fingers lightly traced your cheek as he moved a strand of hair from your face. “Lonely rivers sigh, wait for me, wait for me, I’ll be coming home, wait for me,” he continued to sing softly, causing your head to spin.
As the familiar sound of "Unchained Melody" filled the room, you felt a wave of nostalgia wash over you. It had become one of your favorite songs they played on tour, but hearing Jake sing it now, his voice carrying a raw emotion, added a whole new layer to its meaning. In that moment, you found yourself captivated, unable to move away from him. You would have stayed there forever, suspended in time, if it meant he would keep singing to you like this. It was now you who craved his touch, his presence filling the room with an undeniable warmth.
Pretending to lightly stir, you turned over to face him, your voice a little hoarse. "You didn't go to bed?"
"No, I didn't want to wake you," he replied as you sat up, stretching out a little and letting out a yawn.
"You can go to bed. Thanks for letting me stay over," you said, grabbing the blanket that had fallen on the floor.
"Come to bed with me. I don't want you to sleep on the couch," Jake said, getting up and offering you his hand.
"Jake," you said, trying to come up with an excuse.
"It's just sleep. Come on. You've got a big day tomorrow," Jake insisted, his hand still extended. Reluctantly, you took it, following him to his bedroom, where his scent lingered heavily. You sucked in a breath, letting out a little 'mm' without realizing it until you heard a chuckle from Jake.
As you lay in bed, you watched Jake take off his shirt and climb in wearing nothing but pajama pants. When your head hit the pillow, you let out an involuntary moan, making Jake laugh.
"God, it's better than I imagined," you said with a little sigh.
"That's what she said," Jake teased, turning off the lamp on the side table.
"Shut up, Jacob," you chuckled. "I'll be honest, I'm sad we spent all that time at my house when we could have spent that time sleeping in this comfy bed." You pulled the covers up to your shoulders, turning to him. "It smells like you. I like the way you smell."
Jake brought his hand over, pushing hair out of your face. "I know, but I like your bed and your house. It smells like you. I like the way you smell." You could see his smile in the dimly lit bedroom, the moonlight seeping in from the window.
"It's like sandalwood and vanilla. Soft, sweet, and strong," he said, pausing. "Just like you." You smiled at the last words he said, nuzzling your way into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.
The steady sound of his breathing lulled you to sleep quickly as Jake tracing little patterns on your arm.
💎💎💎
You woke up in an unfamiliar bed, the scent enveloping you in a comforting embrace. Opening your eyes, you found Jake absent from the bed but the aroma of coffee wafting from the kitchen hinted at his whereabouts. Making your way to the kitchen, you found Jake seated at the table, glasses perched on his nose, absorbed in the morning paper.
You couldn't help but giggle, catching his attention. "I go to sleep in a rockstar’s bed and wake up to a grandpa at the kitchen table the next morning.”
He chuckled softly. "Good morning to you too," he greeted, rising from the table to pour you a cup of coffee.
"Thank you," you said, taking the cup he offered. As you took a sip, a little moan escaped your lips. Jake grinned as he returned to his seat. "Did you put cinnamon in this?" you asked, savoring the rich flavor.
"Yes. I remembered that's how you like it at home. Cinnamon in the grounds as it brews," Jake replied, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Thank you." You were touched by the thoughtful gesture, a warmth spreading through you as you savored the familiar flavor.
You watched Jake, engrossed in the morning paper. Glancing at the clock, panic set in. "Oh shit. I've gotta go," you exclaimed, rushing to change.
Jake looked up, concern furrowing his brow. "Where? The party isn't until later."
"I have a hair appointment," you explained, scrambling to gather your things. As you searched for your keys, you realized Jake had driven you to his house the previous night. "Jake?" you called out, feeling a bit flustered.
He appeared in the doorway, his expression calm. "Yes?"
"I need you to take me to my house, please. I need my car."
"Or you could just take mine," he suggested casually.
"But Sally—" you began, hesitating.
"Sally will be fine here. You're going to be late for your appointment," he insisted, retrieving his keys.
After a moment of consideration, you relented, nodding in agreement. Jake's thoughtfulness never ceased to surprise you.
"Okay, thank you!" you exclaimed as Jake handed you his keys. You reached for them, and without thinking, you leaned in and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. "I'm sorry," you blurted out, immediately stepping back, feeling a flush of embarrassment.
"Go. You're going to be late," Jake chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he held the door open for you. Just as you turned to leave, Jake's hand shot out, grabbing your arm and pulling you back towards him. Before you could react, his hand found the back of your neck, and his other hand settled gently on the small of your back. With a tender touch, he pressed his lips to yours, sending a wave of warmth coursing through you.
"I'm not sorry," he murmured as he broke the kiss, turning you around and gently guiding you out the door. "Have fun at your appointment."
💎💎💎
"It looks amazing. Thank you," you gushed with gratitude as you stepped out of the salon, feeling rejuvenated after your appointment. Climbing into Jake's Jeep, you headed back towards his house. Upon arrival, you noticed an unfamiliar car parked where Jake's had been earlier.
Standing at the front door, you hesitated, unsure whether to just walk in or knock. After a moment's contemplation, you decided to enter. Stepping inside, you looked around, but there was no sign of Jake or Sally anywhere.
Then you heard a voice like nails on a chalkboard. "Are you kidding me? Jake, you can’t be serious." The sound of Sally's deep growl made you dash up the stairs, taking two at a time. Reaching the top, you found Sally on guard at the door, her hackles raised as she peered into the back room.
"Sally, komm," you commanded, your voice firm and steady. As Sally came to you, you patted her before walking to the doorway where she had been standing.
"Y/N," Jake said, glancing at you as you made your way into the room.
"Y/N?" Claire questioned, turning around to face you. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to Jake. "So she had your car."
"Jake, is everything okay?" you asked, feeling Sally rub against your leg.
"Mind your business. This doesn’t concern you," Claire snapped, shooting a look back at Jake. "Are you going on the trip with me or not? You’re being absolutely ridiculous about it."
As Claire's words hung in the air, a surge of anger pulsed through you at the sight of her standing in Jake's house. You clenched your fists, feeling a mix of betrayal and frustration. Despite trying to keep your composure, you couldn't help but shoot daggers with your eyes as you stood there, silently seething. The tension in the room was palpable, and you could feel Sally's protective presence at your side, mirroring your unease.
Jake stepped forward, his expression hardening as he faced Claire. "Claire, I told you it was over. I have plans with Y/N," he stated firmly, his voice carrying a hint of irritation. "I let you in so you could get your stuff, not to argue with me." You stood beside Jake, your arms folded across your chest, glaring at Claire with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "You can't just waltz in here and create chaos. It’s time for you to go," he added, his voice sharp. Claire's eyes widened at the intensity of his words, and for a moment, the room was filled with tense silence.
Claire's words rang with desperation, her frustration palpable in the tense atmosphere of the room. "You can't be serious?" she implored, her gaze darting between you and Jake. "You're going to make me look like an idiot."
Her voice cracked with exasperation as she turned away, her hands clenched in frustration. "My friends will be there with their boyfriends, and if I show up without you, I'll look dumb."
"Claire, you only mentioned this once, and I agreed it sounded like a good idea," Jake asserted, his tone unwavering. "You said it was for us to have alone time, not for you to show me off to your friends. That kind of feels like you're using me."
As Jake stood his ground, his words cut through the tension in the room. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness for Jake, but Jake's honesty resonated with you. You realized she was using Jake the way she accused your sister of doing with Josh as she spoke her next words.
Claire's accusations cut through the air like a knife, her words dripping with venom. "They all wanna meet this wannabe rockstar so bad, and here you are being selfish again. I thought you guys liked to party. I think you like the attention. Well, here it is! A house full of people waiting to meet you and give you the attention you so desperately crave." Each word from Claire's mouth felt like a blow, stirring a mix of anger and disbelief within you. The urge to lash out was strong, but you managed to rein in your emotions, knowing that escalating the situation further wouldn't help.
Jake's jaw tensed as he absorbed Claire's words, his expression a mixture of frustration and disappointment. You exchanged a brief glance with him, silently communicating your shared disbelief at Claire's accusations. As much as you wanted to defend Jake and confront Claire, you knew it was best to maintain your composure and handle the situation with tact.
In a sudden and startling moment, something smashed above your head, causing you to instinctively duck. The sound of shattering glass was quickly followed by screams echoing through the room. Turning your attention back to Claire, you saw Sally latched onto her arm, her teeth bared and her growls filling the air.
Claire's screams pierced the air as she frantically tried to shake Sally off her arm. "Get this beast off me! Help!" she yelled, her voice tinged with panic and anger.
Reacting swiftly, Jake stepped forward, his expression tense as he tried to assess the situation. "Claire, stop hitting her! You're only making it worse," he shouted, his voice laced with urgency and frustration.
“Sally, aus!” You commanded in a firm voice. Sally let go of Clair. “Komm, sitz,” you snapped your finger and pointed near your leg and Sally came without hesitation.
Breathing heavily, Claire glared at Sally, her eyes filled with fear and anger. "That dog is a menace! You need to put her down," she spat, pointing a trembling finger at Sally. “She ripped my shirt.”
“That dog's name is Sally, and she's trained to guard us from potential threats,” you stated firmly, patting Sally on the head. “She didn't bite you; she just grabbed your shirt sleeve. Consider yourself lucky. Maybe next time, you'll think twice before throwing something at someone's head.” With your arms crossed, you stood your ground, your gaze unwavering.
Jake looked between you and Claire, his expression unreadable. "I think it's best if you leave," he said finally, his tone clipped as he directed his attention back to Claire.
“Jake,” she began to protest, but Jake raised a hand to silence her.
“Leave. Now,” he repeated, his voice firm. Claire huffed in frustration before quickly exiting the room, making sure to keep her distance from Sally, whose tail wagged enthusiastically, echoing through the room with each thump against the floor.
You waited a moment, letting the tension from Claire's departure dissipate, before making your way down the stairs with Sally by your side. Jake stood near the front door, his posture tense, as if he was still processing what had just transpired. Approaching him cautiously, you called out his name softly, unsure of how he would respond.
A smile spread across his face, breaking the tension in the room as he chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. "I've never seen something so terrifying and amazing," he remarked, finally looking up at you. "Sally, were you protecting your mama?" He bent down, and Sally instinctively trotted over to him, her tail wagging furiously. He gently patted her head and then her tummy, and she flopped over, basking in the attention. "She's a good girl. Not letting that mean lady hurt her mama. Such a good girl," Jake cooed, his voice soft and affectionate.
"Braver hund," you giggled, causing Sally's tail to wag even more. Jake looked at you, a hint of confusion in his eyes. "It means 'good dog' in German.”
"Oh, she is! Braver hund!" Jake's words seemed to ignite excitement in Sally as she bounded around the house.
"I'm sorry, Jake. I don't even know what to say." You looked down at your feet, feeling a mix of emotions, as Jake stood up.
"It's okay. There's no need to apologize. Claire was only going to get more upset and aggressive from there. So really, I'm glad Sally was there, because she would have started going for you like she does for me."
"Jake, has she ever actually hit you? Like, this is the third time I know of that she's thrown stuff at or near you." You shyly asked, knowing it was probably a sensitive subject.
Jake let out a sigh, watching Sally as she continued to zoom around his house. "Yeah. It became a regular occurrence the longer we dated. She'd throw stuff, slap me, punched me once in the nose. Once, I was trying to get her back in the house after an argument, and she almost ran me over. If I hadn't jumped out of the way, she would have at least clipped me."
Sadness washed over you as Jake spoke. Your heart ached for him, but it was soon taken over by anger towards Claire. Jake's not perfect, but neither are you, but he is perfectly Jake, and you can't fathom the idea of someone hurting him like that.
"Jake, I'm so sorry," you said, stepping closer to him and rubbing his arm gently. He gave you a little nod, biting his lip.
"It's also kinda why I put off breaking up with her. The way she reacts to stuff is unpredictable, and I never really got the courage to face her. I was kinda hoping if I kept my distance, she would just break things off. But clearly, that didn't work," Jake explained, his voice tinged with regret. You nodded, now fully understanding why he never did what he wanted to.
"I'm sorry about that. I don't think I ever fully apologized for basically lying to you, being upset with you when I was still in a relationship with her. I'm sorry," he said, his words heavy with sincerity.
"There's no need to apologize. I understand now, and I'm sorry things were like that between the two of you," you replied, sincerity coloring your voice. "A relationship should bring you happiness and joy, excitement to see the person you call special. Not terror and sadness to the point you can't even break things off with them because you're scared of how they'll react."
Jake nodded, his expression softening as he listened to your words. "Yeah, exactly," he murmured, his gaze meeting yours. "I'm just grateful to have you and Sally here now, Y/N. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders."
You smiled, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his words. "We’re grateful to be here, Jake," you said, reaching out to squeeze his hand gently. "And I'm here for you, whatever you need."
He returned the smile, his eyes reflecting gratitude. "Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot." As you stood there together, a sense of understanding and solidarity washed over you both.
💎💎💎
After Jake dropped you off at home, you wasted no time in getting ready for the night ahead. Carefully, you removed any traces of the day's activities, making sure not to disturb your perfectly styled hair. As you went about your routine, you couldn't help but admire the way your skin glowed with a healthy radiance, and how your face seemed to light up with anticipation.
With each step of your beauty regimen, you felt a sense of excitement building within you. Tonight was special, and you wanted to look and feel your best. As you applied the final touches, you couldn't help but smile at the reflection staring back at you in the mirror. You had transformed into the vision of confidence and elegance you had envisioned.
You stood before your full-length mirror, excitement coursing through your veins as you admired your outfit. The anticipation of the night ahead had you practically buzzing with energy. Suddenly, a knock on your front door shattered the silence, causing you to let out an involuntary scream. In an instant, Sally bolted towards the door, her protective instincts kicking in with a flurry of barks and growls.
Curiosity piqued, you hurried to answer the door, rounding the corner to find Jake standing on your doorstep. Your initial shock quickly gave way to a mixture of surprise and delight as you took in his presence.
“Jake, what are you doing here? I thought you were meeting me there?" You questioned as you opened the door for him.
"And let you drive that dirty jeep? Not a chance," he replied, shaking his head with a grin, before his eyes raked over you. "Stunning. You're absolutely stunning." Your cheeks flushed as you stepped aside, allowing him to enter while you took in his appearance.
"I could say the same to you. No brown boots?" You teased.
"Nope," Jake replied with a smile, kicking out his foot to show off his suede loafers. Your eyes shot back to him, a smile forming on your lips that quickly faded.
"What is this?" You pointed to his chest where his shirt was buttoned up except for the first few buttons.
"Figured I'd rein it back in. Not go with the open shirt," he explained with another smile. You shook your head, stepping closer to him. With a swift motion, you undid the button all the way until you reached the top of his pants. You could hear Jake suck in a breath through his nose as your fingers lightly touched him. Stepping back, you looked at what you'd done.
"There we go. That’s Jake," you said with a giggle.
"And who was I before?" His eyebrows raised, giving you a smirk.
"Jacob. Not Jake," you teased.
"So, you like Jake better than Jacob?" He moved closer to you, making your heart speed up.
"I like them all equally," you smiled. "Except Oliver. Dude is handsy and can’t finish a thought." Jake let out a laugh, throwing his head back.
"Oh, you mean me, love?" His fake accent came through as he stepped closer to you, snaking his hand through your suit jacket. You went for not top, only tape to keep it closed. The touch made you shiver as his hand stopped on the small of your back, pulling you into him. "Is it because he does stuff like this?" You smirked at the accent you heard all through tour that now came out.
Jake placed a hand on the side of your neck, bringing your face to his. Your lips met in an innocent kiss that was soon taken over by your desire to taste more of him. You swept your tongue on the bottom of his lip, as if asking for permission to enter, which he gladly accepted. Soon, you two were in a match with your own hands as you fought to touch and grab each other. Jake managed to push you against the front door, dropping his mouth to your neck, making you let out a moan.
"God that sound just makes me—" but he didn’t finish his sentence. He went back to work on your neck as you tangled your hands in his hair.
You giggled, "see? Can’t finish a thought." Jake pulled away from you, giving you a smirk.
"We’re gonna be late." A smile stretched across his face as he lightly placed a kiss back on your lips. You pursed your lips as if you were thinking about actually being later. Jake chuckled, pulling away from you. "I will not be the reason you're late to your own release party."
"We’re always late." You dragged a finger from his collarbone down to the belt of his pants. Jake closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath again before shaking his head.
"Not tonight,” he laughed. “Are you ready?"
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layce2015 · 10 months
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Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)
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"Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Ellen." Sam said into his phone as I look at the wall in my safehouse that we decided to stay in. The wall was covered in maps, hand-written notes and missing posters showing Ava's face.
I sighed as Dean comes into the building, holding a drink carrier with our coffee. "What'd she have to say?" Dean asked Sam. "Oh, she's got nothing. We've been checking every database we can think of—federal, state, and local. No one's heard anything about Ava, she just...into thin air, you know?" Sam said as Dean hands over mine and Sam's cup of coffee.
"What about you?" I asked Dean. "No, same as before. Sorry, guys." Dean said and I look down, sadly. "Ellen did have one thing. A hotel in Cornwall, Connecticut. Two freak accidents in the past three weeks." Sam said. "Yeah? What's that have to do with Ava?" Dean asked as I give Sam a curious look.
"It's a job. I mean, a lady drowned in the bathtub; then a few days ago a guy falls down the stairs, head turns a complete one-eighty. Which isn't exactly normal, you know?" Sam said and Dean gives him a curious look. "Look, I don't know, Dean, it might be nothing, but I told Ellen we'd think about checking it out." Sam said.
"You did?" Dean asked, surprised. "Yeah. You seem surprised." Sam said, curiously. "Well yeah, it's just, you know...not the, uh, patented Sam Winchester way, is it?" Dean said and Sam gives an exasperated look towards him.
"What way is that?" He asked, mildly challenging. "I just figured after Ava there'd be, uh, you know, more angst and droopy music and staring out the rainy windows, and--" Dean said as Sam gives him a look. "Yeah, I'll shut up now." he mutters.
"Look. (Y/n) and I are the ones who told her to go back home. Now her fiancé's dead and some demon has taken her off to God knows where. You know? But we've been looking for a month now, and we've got nothing. So I'm not giving up on her, but I'm not going to let other people die either. We've got to save as many people as we can." Sam said and I give a small smile towards him.
"That was beautiful, Sammy." I said, faking tears. "Yeah, that attitude is just way too healthy for me, and I'm officially uncomfortable now. Thank you." Dean said and Sam ducks his head and laughs while I shake my head, smiling. "All right, call Ellen. Tell her we'll take it." Dean said to Sam and he nods.
We park the Impala in front of the inn, which looked like something out of a horror movie. You know the kind, the ones that look grand and beautiful and creepy all at the same time.
Dean gets out of the driver's side and looks at the building. "Dude, this is sweet. I never get to work jobs like this." Dean said. "Like what?" I asked as Sam and I get out of the car. "Old school haunted houses, you know? Fog, and secret passageways...sissy British accents. Might even run into Fred and Daphne while we're inside." Dean said then he closes his eyes briefly. "Mmm, Daphne. Love her." He said and I shake my head.
As we go up the steps, Sam notices an urn on the side of the porch. "Hey, wait a sec." He said as he inspects it more closely. "I'm not so sure haunted's the problem." Sam said. "What do you mean?" I asked him. "You see this pattern here?" He said as I come up to him and see him tapping at a five-point symbol engraved in the urn.
"That's a quincunx, that's a five-spot." Sam said. "Five-spot." Dean and I said, questioning. "Yeah." Sam replied. "That's used for hoodoo spellwork, isn't it?" I asked and Sam nods. "Right, yeah. You fill this thing with bloodweed and you've got a powerful charm to ward off enemies." Sam explains. "Yeah, except I don't see any bloodweed. Don't you think this place is a little too, uh, whitemeat for hoodoo?" Dean asked and Sam shrugs. "Maybe." He said.
As we enter, looking around at the quiet interior, a woman enters briskly. "May I help you?" She asked us. "Hi, yeah, I'd like a couple rooms for a couple of nights." Dean said to her as Sam and I move in and a little girl darts in front of our legs. "Hey!" The woman shouted at the girl then she turns to me and Sam. "Sorry about that." She said, apologetically.
"No problem." Sam said and I nod. "Yeah, that's fine." I said and the woman looks between us. "Well, um, congratulations, you could be some of our final guests." She said and we give her a curious look. "Well...Sounds vaguely ominous." Dean said. "No, I'm sorry, I mean we're closing at the end of the month." She said then she looks between us.
"So...is it you two or...?" The woman asked as she gestures between Dean and Sam, this makes me chuckle. "No, it's me and him." I said as I take Dean's arm. "These two are brothers and we're just on a cross-country trip together." I said. "Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry. So, one king size and a single for the other room." She said and I nod at her.
"It's okay." I said. "You know, you have a really, really interesting urn on the front porch. Where did you get that?" Sam asked her as Dean pays for the rooms. "Oh, I have no idea, it's been there forever." The woman said as she hands two keys to Dean. "Here you go, Mr. Mahagov." She said. "Thanks." Dean said and the woman dings the bell.
"You two will be staying in room 237. And he will be staying in room 238. Sherwin, could you show these three to their rooms?" The woman said and we turn to see an old, balding man in a black blazer shuffling up behind him.
Sometime later, Sherwin drags Dean's clunking duffel bag behind him, up the steps, as we follow. "I could give you a hand with that bag." Dean said to him. "I got it." Sherwin said. "Okay." Dean said.
"So the hotel's closing up, huh?" Sam asked him. "Yep. Miss Susan tried to make a go of it, but the guests just don't come like they used to. Still, it's a damn shame." He said to us. "Oh yeah?" I asked him. "It may not look it anymore, but this place was a palace. Two different vice-presidents laid their heads on our pillows. My parents worked here, I practically grew up here. Gonna miss it. Here's your room." Sherwin said as he slips the key in the lock and opens the door, handing the key to me as I brush past him.
"And your room is here." Sherwin said as he turns to Sam and leads him into the room next to ours. Dean turns to shut the door and Sherwin comes back to our door, his hand extended expectantly. "You're not gonna...cheap out on me, are you, boy?" He said to Dean and I chuckle as Dean pulls out his wallet.
Later, Sam had come in our room and starts sifting through papers. I help him as Dean paces around the room. "What the—" Dean said, shocked. "What?" Sam asked. "That's normal." Dean said and he gestures to the wall and I look up to see an antique wedding dress displayed on the wall.
"Huh?" I muttered. "Why the hell would anyone stay here? I'm amazed they kept in business this long." Dean said and I shrug.
"All right. Victim number one: Joan Edison, forty three years old, a realtor handling the sale of the hotel; and victim number two was Larry Williams, moving some stuff out to Goodwill." Sam said. "Well, there's a connection: they're both tied up in shutting the place down." Dean said. "Yeah. Maybe somebody here doesn't want to leave, and they're using hoodoo to fight back." I said.
"Who do you think our witch doctor is, that Susan lady?" Dean asked us. "No, doesn't seem likely. I mean, she is the one selling." Sam said and I nodded. "So what then, Sherwin?" Dean asked. "Don't know." Sam and I said as we flip through some more papers.
The boys and I poke around the hallways until I see another urn and picks it up. It too, has a quincunx inscribed. "Hey. Look at that. More hoodoo." I said as I show them the urn.
Then we approach a door marked PRIVATE and Dean knocks and Susan opens the door a moment later. "Hi there." Dean greets. "Hi. Everything okay with your rooms?" She asked us and the boys and I talk over each other.
"Yeah. Yeah, yeah, everything's great. Yeah." We said and she looks between us. "Well, I was, I was just in the middle of packing." She said and Dean looks past her. "Hey! Are those antique dolls?" Dean asked and Sam and I look over to see a shelf full of antique porcelain dolls.
"Because this one..." Dean said as he gestures to me. "...this one here, she's got a major doll collection back home. Dontcha, honey?" Dean said to me and I give a quick look at him before I give a fake smile.
"Big time." I said and Dean chuckles. "Big time. You think she could come — or we could come in and take a look?" Dean asked Susan, who looked a bit uncomfortable. "I don't know..." she said, unsure.
"Please? I mean, she loves them. She's not gonna tell you this, but she's, she's always dressing 'em up in these little tiny outfits and, um, you'd make her day. You--" Dean said he turns to me. "She would, huh?" Dean asked me and I glanced at him again then said. "It's true." I said, giving a fake smile again.
"Okay. Come on in." Susan said as she opens the door wider for us. "All right. All right!" Dean said as he goes and slaps my ass. I turn to him and I raise an eyebrow at him and he shrugs. I give a playful scoff as I turn to face the shelf and look at the dolls.
"Wow. This is a lot of dolls. I mean, they're nice, you know. Not super creepy at all." Dean said and Susan chuckles. "Yeah, I suppose they are a little creepy. But they've been in the family forever. A lot of sentimental value." She said.
"What is this? The hotel?" Sam asked as he points at this very large dollhouse which did look alot like the hotel. "Yeah, that's right. Exact replica, custom built." Susan said as Sam leans down then stands up and holds up a broken doll. "His head got twisted around. What happened to it?" Sam asked.
"Tyler, probably." Susan said as the little girl, from earlier, runs in. "Mommy! Maggie's being mean." Tyler said to Susan. "Tyler, tell her I said to be nice, okay?" She said, in a nice but firm voice.
"Hey Tyler. I see you broke your doll. You want me to fix it?" Sam asked her. "I didn't break it. I found it like that." Tyler replied. "Oh. Well, uh, maybe Maggie did it." I said to her. "No, neither of us did it. Grandma would get mad if we broke 'em." Tyler said. "Tyler, she wouldn't get mad." Susan assured her. 
"Grandma?" Dean asked her. "Grandma Rose. These were all her toys." Tyler said. "Oh. Really. Where's Grandma Rose now?" Dean asked. "Up in her room." Tyler replied as I turn to Susan. "You know, I'd, I'd uh, I'd really love to talk to Rose about her incredible doll —" I said when Susan speaks, quickly.
"No. I mean, I'm afraid that's impossible. My mother's been very sick and she's not taking any visitors." She said, quickly.
Moments later, we exit the room and started talking in hushed voices. "Well, what do you think? Dolls, hoodoo, mysterious shut-in grandma?" Dean asked us. "Well, dolls are used in all kinds of voodoo and hoodoo, like curses, and binding spells, and..." Sam said and I nodded. "Yeah, maybe we've found our witch doctor." I said to them. 
"All right, (y/n) and I'll see what we can go dig up on boomin' Granny. You go get online, check old obits, freak accidents, that sort of thing, see if she's whacked anybody before." Dean said. "Right." Sam and I said. "Don't go surfing porn -- that's not the kind of whacking I mean." Dean said and Sam rolls his eyes while I give Dean a seriously? look and Sam turns back to the room as Dean and I leave.
After digging around the hotel for alittle while, we make it to the front lobby only to see a coroner vehicle in front of the door. The two of us meet Susan as she comes back in towards the inn. "What happened?" I asked her. "Oh, the maid went in to turn down the sheets and he was just...hanging there." She said.
"That's awful. He was a guest?" Dean asked and she nods. "He worked for the company that bought the place. I don't understand." She said. "What?" Dean and I asked her. "Had a lot of bad luck around here. Look, if you'd like to check out I'll give you a full refund." Susan said and we shake our heads at her.
"No thanks. We don't scare that easy." Dean said to her and she makes a small smile towards us.
Later, Dean and I enter Sam's room to see he was sitting alone in the dark. "There's been another one. Some guy just hung himself in his room." Dean said. "Yeah. I saw." Sam replied, darkly. "We've gotta figure this out, and fast. What'd you find out about Granny?" Dean asked him. "You're the boss." Sam said and Dean and I look at him, surprised.
"What?" Dean and I asked. "You're bossy. And short." Sam said to Dean and he laughs sloppily. "Are you drunk?" I asked him. "Yeah." Sam said, laughing. "So? Stupid." He said and Dean and look around to see several empty bottles on the floor.
"Dude, what are you thinking? We're working a case." Dean said, angrily. "That guy who hung himself. I couldn't save him." Sam said, tearful. "What are you talking about? You didn't know, you couldn't have done anything." I said to him then he shifts his gaze to me.
"That's an excuse, (y/n). I should have found a way to save him. I should have saved Ava too. We should've saved Ava." Sam shouts and Dean approaches him. "Yeah, well, you can't save everyone. Even you said that." Dean said and Sam slams the table.
"No, Dean, you don't understand, all right? The more people I save, the more I can change!" He shouts. "Change what?" Dean asked and Sam leans forward and places his hands to his chest. "My destiny, Dean!" He said. "All right. Time for bed. Come on, Sasquatch." Dean said and we lean over and haul Sam up by the shoulder.
"Come on." I said as I help carrying him to his bed. "I need you to watch out for me, Dean." Sam said. "Yeah. I always do." Dean replied. "No! No, no, no. You have to watch out for me, all right? And for (y/n). And if we ever...turn into something that we're not...you have to kill us." Sam said.
"Sam." Dean said, dismissively, and Sam shoves Dean to face him. "Dean! Dad told you to do it, you have to." Sam exclaims. "Yeah, well, Dad's an ass." Dean said as Sam frowns in confusion. "He never should have said anything. I mean, you don't do that, you don't, you don't lay that kind of crap on your kids." Dean said.
"No. He was right to say it! Who knows what I might become? Even now, everyone around me dies!" Sam said. "Yeah, well, I'm not dying, okay? And neither are you and (y/n). Come on, Sam." Dean said and we push Sam onto the bed but he stays seated. He reaches up and clutches Dean's jacket as Dean's right hand curls in the fabric at Sam's shoulder. 
"No, please! Dean, you're the only one who can do it. Promise." Sam pleads. "Don't ask that of me." Dean said. "Dean, please. You have to promise me." Sam said and Dean stares at him then at me before he says. "I promise."
"Thanks." Sam said as he reaches up and grabs Dean's face with both hands. "Thank you. You are..." Sam slurs as I said. "All right. Come on." And Dean bats Sam's hands away and we shove him back on the bed.
Sam falls back, then turns over on his stomach to plant his face in the pillow, hugging it with both arms. Dean rubs a hand over his face and I chuckle then we leave the room.
*3rd Person POV*
"He's gonna have one helluva hangover." (Y/n) said and Dean chuckles. "Yeah, he'll get over it." Dean said and she chuckle a bit before her smile falters. The two stood in silent, both in their own thoughts, as they walk down.
(Y/n)'s mind starts to wander as she starts to think what Sam said about how he was worried about him becoming bad and honestly, she was too. But not only that, she also found out this past month that she had developed a new power.
Not only could she get visions, she could move objects without touching them. Right now, she could only move small objects, she hadn't tried bigger objects or humans. She hadn't told them and now she started to think maybe she should tell Dean. She knows she can trust Dean as much as she trusts Sam; but she feels once she tells Dean about her newly discovered powers, it would make him worry even more. And she didn’t want to burden him with what’s been happening to her.
Dean, however, knew she was holding something back, he could tell on her face that she was in deep thought. And usually when she was in deep thought, she had something on her mind. He was concerned and wanted to know what’s going on but he didn't want to force her to tell him. He trusts her to open up to him when that time comes but something in the back of his mind was eating away at him.
"Something wrong?" Dean asked her, cautiously. "Just thinking." She replied, quickly. "About?" He asked. "About what Sam said..." She said and Dean let's our an exasperated sigh. "Oh brother, don't you start." He growls. "No, no, it’s not like that." She said.
"Well, what is it?" Dean asked her, worried, and she sighs then looks down a bit. "As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me." She said as she gives a pointed look to Dean, who rolled his eyes. "What I meant by when I said I was thinking about what Sam said, was that I was scared..." she admitted and Dean raises an eyebrow.
"Of what?" He asked. "I'm scared of what lies ahead for my destiny, when that time comes. What my powers could do when that happens. I don't know what could happen. I mean what happens if I lost control and I end up hurting innocent people or you or Sam or both of you?" She said as she looks over at him and he gives her a slight frown at this. 
"God, just thinking about it makes me feel sick to my stomach. What if there's more to what I think it is. I'm still figuring out what the hell's been happening to me, Dean." She said to him. "What do you mean by that?" Dean asked her and she sighs once again. "I-I...This past month, I found out that I can move objects." She replied and Dean looks st her, shocked.
"I'm sorry, what?" He asked, shocked and confused, then she looks up at him. "Y-You've got a new power?" He asked and she nods. "Seems like it." She said. "And when exactly were you gonna tell us about this little information?" Dean asked, alittle angry but it was more out of fear for her than him being angry. 
"Well, I'm telling you now!" She said and Dean scoffs and rolls his eyes. "I was scared, Dean, and I didn't want to burden you with this information. I just...I saw what Max Miller could do and that scares me..." (y/n) said and Dean places a hand on her shoulder and makes her face him. "(Y/n), look...you're not gonna become a monster, alright? We'll figure this out together. I'll protect you and Sam." Dean assured her.
(Y/n) stares at him for a moment and realized, oddly enough, that his words gave her comfort and it calmed her down her nerves. She nods then smiles at Dean. "Thanks, Dean." She said and he nods then the two began to walk again.
Dean and (y/n) go down to the antique, empty bar to see that Sherwin is behind the bar. "Evening, lovebirds." He said and Dean and (y/n) share a glance then they look back at Sherwin as they now remember that they were acting like a couple.
"Evening." Dean said as they go and sit down. "Have a drink." Sherwin said to them. "Yeah, thanks." Dean and (y/n) said and Sherwin pours a drink for the two. "So, poor guy, huh? Killing himself?" Dean said to him. "That kind of thing seems to be going around lately." Sherwin said. "Yeah, yeah, we heard about the other ones. It's almost like this hotel is, uh, cursed or something." (Y/n) said.
"Every hotel has its spilled blood. If people only knew what's gone on in some of those rooms they've checked into." Sherwin said to the two. "You know a lot about the place, don't you?" Dean asked him. "Down to the last nail." Sherwin said. "We'd love to hear some stories." (y/n) said. "Honey, you should never say that to an old man." Sherwin said, smiling.
*(y/n)'s POV*
Sherwin leads me and Dean up the wide staircase, showing us some old framed photographs on the walls. "This is little Miss Susan, and her mother Rose. Happier days." Sherwin said. "They're not happy now?" Dean asked him.
"Well, would you be, leaving the only home you ever knew?" Sherwin said to him, questioning. "I don't know. I never really knew one." Dean said. "Well, this is Rose's home. It's been in the family over a century. Used to be the family estate. And now she gets to live in some senior living graveyard, and they tear this place down." Sherwin explained.
"Yeah, that's too bad." I said and we start down the stairs. "We hear Rose isn't feeling well, either." I said to Sherwin. "No, she isn't." He said.
"What's wrong with her?" Dean asked. "It's not my business to say." Sherwin said. "Oh." Dean and I said, nodding. Then Dean looks at another photo of two little toddlers. "Who's this?" He asked as I look at the photo.
Sherwin picks up a yellowing photograph of a girl sitting on a chair with young black woman; the woman has a quincunx necklace. "That's Rose, when she was a little girl." Sherwin replied. "Who's that with her?" I asked. "That's her nanny, Marie. She looked after Rose more than her own mother." Sherwin said and Dean and I frown in concern as Sherwin replaces the photo.
The next morning, after staying up and doing some more research, Dean and I walk into Sam's room to see him kneeling, miserably, in front of the toilet, his hair hanging in his face. "How you feeling, Sammy?" Dean asked, loudly, after he grins over at Sam, who groans. "I guess mixing whisky and Jäger wasn't such a gangbuster idea, was it?" Dean said as Sam groans again.
"I'll bet you don't remember a thing from last night, do you?" Dean asked, hopeful. "Ohh, I can still taste the tequila." Sam groans and Dean smiles in relief.
"You know, there's a really good hangover remedy -- it's a greasy pork sandwich served up in a dirty ashtray." I said and Sam starts heaving. "Oh, I hate you." He said with a groan as Dean laughs then he and I high-five each other. "I love you, Sammy." I said and he groans.
"Hey, turns out when Grandma Rose was a tyke, she had a Creole nanny who wore a hoodoo necklace." Dean said to Sam. "So you guys think she taught Rose hoodoo?" Sam asked. "Yeah we do." I said. "All right." He said and he stands up. "I think it's time we talked to Rose, then." Sam said as he walks towards the doorway. "Oh. You can brush your teeth first." Dean said, grimacing, and Sam glares at him.
Later, we approach the door marked PRIVATE and I knock on it. "Hello? Susan?" Sam calls out and Dean and I look around furtively. "Clear?" Sam asked us and we nod at him.
Sam kneels before the door and picks the lock. We enter the creepy doll room and go to the door in the back; it's open, and we go through to find a dimly lit staircase. We creep upstairs and to the end of another hallway, into a small room whose door is ajar.
Rose was seated in a wheelchair facing the rainy window, her back to us. And we approach cautiously. "Mrs. Thompson? Mrs. Thompson?" I asked as I see her trembling, and staring at nothing. "Rose? Hi, Mrs. Thompson, we're not here to hurt you, it's okay—" Sam said but she does not respond, just trembles harder.
"Rose?" Sam said then turns to us. "Guys." He said, quietly, as he draws us over to the side. "This woman's had a stroke." Sam said. "Yeah, but hoodoo's hands-on, I mean, you've got to mix herbs, and chant, and build an altar." Dean said. "Yeah. So it can't be Rose. Hey, maybe it's not even hoodoo." I said, shrugging  
"Or she could be faking." Dean added. "Yeah, what are you gonna do, poke her with a stick?" Sam asked and Dean frowns then nods. "Dude! You're not gonna poke her with a stick!" Sam exclaimed at him.
"What the hell?! What are you doing in here?" Susan's voice growled and we turned to see her coming into the room and we talked, quickly.
"Oh, we just wanted to talk to Rose..."
"Well, the door was open..." 
"We're so sorry..."
"Look at her, she is scared out of her wits. I want you out of my hotel in two minutes or I'm calling the cops." Susan said to us, firmly, as she goes over to Rose and we leave without hesitation.
We packed up our things and loaded it up in the Impala then drove away.
We didn't actually leave as we knew that that ghost was gonna do something, so we stayed behind but hid from Susan. We came back just as she was staring at swingset, which begins moving on its own.
She approaches the playground cautiously; all the playsets start moving, and we hear her car, behind  her, started behind her. She lays a hand on the teeter-totter to stop it while we get out of the car and Sam starts to run.
Everything starts moving faster, and suddenly the car revs its engine and comes straight at her. At the last moment Sam tackles her out of the way just as Dean and I run out of the Impala towards them.
"Are you okay?" Sam asked Susan. "I think so." She said. "Come on, come on. Let's get inside, let's go." Dean orders and we help her into the inn then guide her into the bar and to a table.
"Whiskey." Susan said, breathless. "Sure. I know the feeling." Sam said as I go and pour her a glass of whiskey. "What the hell happened out there?" She asked us. "You want the truth?" I asked her. "Of course." She said and the boys and I exchange a look before Dean speaks.
"Well, at first we thought it was some sort of hoodoo curse, but that out there? That was definitely a spirit." Dean said as I hand her a glass of whiskey. "Here." I said to her. "You're insane." Susan said and I chuckle. "Yeah, it's been said." I said.
"Look, I'm sorry, Susan. We don't exactly have time to ease you into this, but we need to know when your mother had the stroke." Sam said to her. "What does that have to do with any—" Susan asked but Sam talks over her. "Just answer the question." He said and she thinks.
"About a month ago." She replied. "Right before the killings began." I said and Sam turns to Dean. "See? So what if Rose was working hoodoo, but not to hurt anyone. To protect them." Sam said to him. "She was using the five spot urns to ward off the spirit." Dean said. "Right, until she had a stroke and she couldn't anymore." I saud and Susan looks between us, confused. "I don't believe this." She mutters.
"Listen, sister, that car didn't try to run you down by itself, okay? I mean, I guess it did, technically, but, but the spirit can — forget it." Dean said to her before Sam interrupts him. "Look, believe what you want. But the fact is you and your family are in danger, all right? So you need to clear everybody out of here: your employees, your mother, your daughters, everyone." Sam said.
"Um, I only have one daughter." Susan said and I give her a confused look. "One? I thought Tyler had a sister named Maggie." I said to her, questioning. "Maggie's imaginary." Susan replied and the boys and I look at each other again.
"Where's Tyler?" Sam asked her and she gives us a terrified and worried look to us.
Later, Susan leads us up to the room with all of those dolls. "Tyler!" Susan yells as we go into the room; only to see that the floor is littered with broken dolls. Susan starts to panic. "Oh my God. Tyler!" She yells as she runs out of the room. "Tyler!" She yells as the boys and I look around the room. Then Susan comes back. "She's not here!" She said, panicked.
"Susan. Tell us what you know about Maggie." Sam said to her, as calmly as he could. "Uh, not much. Um, Tyler's been talking about her since Mom got sick." Susan replied. "Okay, did you ever know anyone by that name?" I asked her. "Uh, no..." she said, shaking her head.
"Think, think, I mean, somebody that could have lived here, might have passed away?" Dean asked her and Susan's eyes widen  "Oh my God. My mom. My mom had a sister named Margaret. She barely spoke about her." She replied.
"Did Margaret happen to die here when she was a kid?" I asked her. "She drowned in the pool." Susan said and Dean looks at us. "Come on." He said and we run out of the room then out of the building.
We run through the gardens to the pool house and reach the door, I go to open it but it was locked. "Damn it!" I said and the boys started pounding at the glass to break it.
"Tyler!" Susan shouts as the boys kept pounding at the door. "Tyler!" Susan shouts and a moment later we hear a scream. "Is there another entrance?" Dean asked Susan. "Around back." She said. "All right, let's go." Dean said then he turns to me and Sam. "Keep working." He tells us and we nod at him.
As they run around the building, Sam and I continue to pound at the door; he looks back and comes back with a heavy pot. "Stand back." Sam said and I step aside then he starts pounding the door with it. 
He does this for a few more moments until finally he breaks through the glass and we wriggle through the opening. Without hesitation, Sam and I leap over the railing and into the pool. We pushes past the plastic covering the pool to reach Tyler, both of us lift her up, and I notice she is unconscious. 
We get her out of the pool just as Susan and Dean run in and we set Tyler on the edge of the pool. Susan starts to gasp, tearfully, as all of us give a worried look towards Tyler until she starts to cough and wake up.
"Thank God! Thank God, thank God." Susan said, in frantic tears, while Tyler looks over at her. "Mommy!" She cries and Susan goes to hug her. "Yeah, baby, I'm here." She said.
"Tyler, do you see Maggie anywhere?" I asked her once her and Susan pull out of the embrace. "No, she's gone." She said and we all give a confused look. 
Later, we make it back to the hotel and Susan holds Tyler close to her as we go up towards Rose's room. "Don't worry, honey, we're leaving in two minutes, we've just got to get Grandma." She said as the boys and I stay back.
"I don't get it, did Maggie just stop?" Dean asked, confused. "Seems like it." Sam said. "Well, where the hell did she go?" Dean asked but before we could reply, Susan screams.
The three of us share worried looks and go running up to Rose's room to find her slumped in her wheelchair, dead.
Minutes later, the paramedics came by and did some test on Rose before the coroner came by and took her body away. Susan was talking to them before she come over to us. "Paramedics said it was another stroke. Do you think...Margaret could have had something to do with it?" She asked us.
"We don't know." Dean said, shrugging.
"But it's possible, yeah." Sam said. 
"Susan, I'm sorry." I said to her, apologetically. "You have nothing to apologize for. You've given me everything." Susan said just as Tyler comes out of the house.
"Ready to go, kiddo?" Susan asked Tyler. "Yeah." Tyler replied. "Now Tyler, you're sure Maggie's not around anymore?" Dean asked her and she nods. "I'm sure. I'd see her." She said.
"I guess whatever's going on must be over." I said to the boys, as we walk over to the taxi near us, and Dean nods while Sam holds the taxi door for Susan. "You two take care of yourselves, all right?" He said.
Before getting in the taxi, Suaan turns and gives Sam a full-body hug and Dean and I smirk. "Thank you. All three of you." She said and she gets into the taxi then Sam shuts the door behind her.
"Think you could have hooked up some MILF action there, bud." Dean said and Sam scoffs and I shake my head. "I'm serious, I think she liked you." Dean said to Sam. "Yeah, that's all she needs." Sam grumbles. "Well, you saved the mom, you saved the girl. Not a bad day. 'Course you know, I could have saved 'em myself, but I didn't want you to feel useless." Dean teased and Sam scoffs. "All right, I appreciate it." Sam said and I chuckle.
"Hey, I helped saving Tyler." I said and Dean pats my shoulder. "You did good, too." He said and I roll my eyes. "Feels good getting back in the saddle, doesn't it?" He asked. "Yeah, it does. But it doesn't change what we talked about last night, Dean." Sam said.
"We talked about a lot of things last night." Dean said, feigning ignorance. "You know what I mean." Sam said as he gives us a knowing look. "You were wasted." I said to him. "But you two weren't. And you promised, Dean." Sam said and we all share a look before we go into the car then pull away from the inn.
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