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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 12 hours

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Bait and Switch. || Scammer!Reader x Victim!Ghost

Rating: M Words: 2.6K~ Pairing: scammer!Reader x victim(but not really)!Ghost CW: phone scams/conning (reader never actually cons him), financial issues?, threats (Simon threatens to find reader), degradation?. other tags: crack, OOC Simon., you/your pronouns (gn!reader but uses a female fake name), obviously fake names (pun/funny), lying, joking, the weirdest meet cute? a/n: this started out as a joke/crack and turned serious/dark at the end? idk how i did this.

Simon Riley would say that being legally dead is the best thing to have happened to him and that's because it allowed him to escape a bunch of responsibilities that regular men have to uphold.

He gets paid covertly, in full, and does not have to pay taxes on his income.

He rented a flat from a sweet ol' lady, who didn't run a background check or ask for a copy of his birth certificate (terrible choice on her part), and he pays her by dropping an envelope of cash in her mailbox on the 1st of every of the month.

He not only is old enough to drink but also sounds and looks old enough as well, which means he doesn't need I.D. to buy alcohol (not that any shops or bars really care enough to check).

He doesn't have a credit card. Or a debit card for that matter. Hell, he doesn't even have a bank account, so he doesn't have to pay maintenance fees.

He doesn't have a smartphone. And up until recently he only had a pager. In fact, the only reason he doesn't have a pager anymore is because it got shot in the crossfire during a mission... so Price forced him to get a jitterbug.

In short... Simon Riley can escape a lot of things (death, taxes, Philip Graves...). But telemarketers and phone scammers are not one of those things.

That's how, on a boring Wednesday afternoon, his new phone ends up ringing, like it had been doing multiple times a week for the last four weeks.

Telemarketers.

He never got telemarketers on his pager.

He hated telemarketers.

But that didn't mean he blocked them-

"What?" He answered as soon as he picked up the phone.

An automated voice came over the call, one of those typical Siri-esque robot voices, delivering a prepared speech: "Congratulations! You've won a free cruise to the Bahamas! To claim your prize, press 1."

Oh, now, this was different. He didn't need to hear more to know it was a scam call. But that didn't mean he was going to hang up.

So Simon pressed key 1, which caused a beep to sound over the call.

"Thank you!" The automated voice continued. "We are now connecting you to a live operator to claim your prize!"

Barely a millisecond went by before you took over the call. "Good afternoon, this is Stella Gormoni with Blissful Blessings Inc.! Who am I speaking with?"

As stereotypical as it is, Simon had expected a different voice on the other end of the line... maybe from a scammer in a foreign country who'd speak heavily-accented English...

But instead, he got a sweet and professional sounding person... It almost made him second-guess the scam that was being pulled on him.

His mind moved quick at coming up with a fake name. Not just a fake one, but a pun one too. "Wanh'a, first name Aiden." He replied, his gruff voice reverberating on the call.

"And how do you spell that?" You asked him politely, and, through your headset, he could hear your keyboard keys clacking in the background.

"That's A-I-D-E-N." He replied as he entered his kitchen, spelling his first, as if that was somehow what was causing you difficulty.

"Uh-huh!" You acknowledged in a peppy tone. "And... your surname?" You asked him.

"W-A-N-H-'-A." He continued spelling as he crossed the small kitchen, hearing your fingers tapping away at your keyboard in his ear.

For a moment, you didn't talk, as if stunned into silence. Had you just picked up on the fact he was trolling you by giving you a name that, phonetically, sounded like 'I Don't Wanna'? Probably. But you hadn't hung up yet.

"Well, congratulations, Mr. Wanh'a, you just won an all-inclusive, two-week long cruise to the Bahamas!" Your peppy tone made him bite his lip to contain a laugh. Well, at least you were dedicated in continuing the scam. "How are you feeling?"

"Very well, and yourself?" Simon asked casually as he leaned himself against the door of his refrigerator, leaning down to look inside and find a snack.

"I'm doing very well, thank you, sir." You replied in a cheerful tone. "So, let's process the information so we can get you your prize, shall we?" You announced in a polite tone.

"Go right on ahead, sweet'eart." He murmured as he grabbed a yogurt and closed the fridge with his hip, sitting at the table and peeling open the lid.

"Well, for us to start, I'm going to need your-"

"Actually, I have a question, before we start." Simon interrupted your speech, cutting off your silver-tongued lies.

You went silent for just a moment before you replied with a sweet little: "Of course, what can I help you with, Mr. Wanh'a?"

"I want to know how exactly I signed up to receive this prize." Simon replied before he placed a spoonful of yogurt in his mouth.

He was trying to accomplish two things by doing this: 1) throw you off your game and make you stammer and stutter, and 2) see how long it took for you to get annoyed, and hang up on him.

"Well, that's what I was going to explain, you see-" You replied, a smile behind your voice, but his trained ears could pick up the slight frustration. It made Simon smile.

"Oh, then, I'm sorry for interrupting you, sweet'art, please go ahead." He replied and gestured with his spoon, as if giving you the stage, unnecessarily so, because you were not there to watch it.

"As I was saying... You were entered automatically into the draw by buying a cereal box of any Kellog's cereal at Tesco. I'm sure you saw a 'Win a free cruise!' sticker on yours?" You asked in a professional and sickly-sweet tone.

He could see right through your scam, he had already done that. You name a famous brand, one people trust, to trick naive or impressionable ones into believing you...

Normal people would tell you they no longer have the cereal box, many of them naive enough to believe your scam despite the fact they hadn't even bought one of those boxes in the first place...

Next, you'd ask for the card used to make the purchase, and some people were dumb enough to read their number aloud to you...

Oh, how he hated scammers. Even more than telemarketers.

"I do remember seeing something like that..." He murmured, his voice deepening, before he popped another spoonful of yogurt past his lips, loudly smacking them right against the receiver of his jitterbug.

"Well, all I need is for you to get the box and read me the code that's imprinted on the inside of the flap!" You announced.

"Well, you see, I would, sweet'art... But my sight isn't so good anymore..." Simon replied. "I'm getting up there in age, you know?" He continued eating his yogurt.

"I understand, sir." You replied. "I'm sorry to hear that. One of my cousins also started losing his vision pretty early." You announced.

Huh.

There was no hint of forced sympathy in your voice.

No, you were being genuine. That was a real story of your life you were telling him...

But you had picked up on the fact he was trolling you, right? So why were you-

"Good thing though, about this system of ours, is that you can just confirm your credit card details so we can double check them and get you that prize!" You had, your tone right back to the scamming silver-tongue you had held until now.

Secretly, Simon had to admit that he admired your commitment to the bit. He couldn't help but smile a bit, amused.

"Oh, of course. Let me just set you down while I get my card." Simon replied and got up, finishing his yogurt and tossing out the plastic container, popping the spoon into the sink, and, after setting down his phone, he walked out of the room.

Simon glanced down at his wrist watch, noting the time on it, then, approached his bedroom door, grabbing his over-the-door pull-up bars, and began doing a quick set, leaving you to 'wait' for him in the kitchen.

After a few sets, he waltzed back into the kitchen and grabbed his phone again. "You still there, da'lin'?" He beckoned in a gruff tone.

You sighed, your politeness sounding slightly more forced. He had kept you waiting for over ten minutes after all. "Yes, sir, I am. Did you get your card, Mr. Wanh'a?"

"Oh, please, enough of this 'sir' thing, Mr. Wanh'a was my mother." He replied, then went silent for just a beat, almost like he could hear your frustration sizzling on he other end.

He was being more and more obvious with his trolling... And it pleased him immensely to imagine a parasite like you seething on the other end of the line, reaching your wits' end.

"You can just call me 'Ai', it's what my friends call me." Simon continued, a smirk forming on his lips. "And we're friends now, right? You're giving me a cruise and everythin'." He added, his tone just as charismatic and peppy as his had been.

"I guess we are!" You replied, returning the overly cheery tone. "So, 'Ai Wanh'a', then?" You asked, but he could hear the mix of frustration and amusement behind your voice.

"Yeah? What d'you want, babygirl?" Simon asked, unable to resist making a more impish remark. And, unfortunately, it had the desired result. It genuinely caused your brain to blue-screen for a moment.

Sure, you'd experienced plenty of people getting angry at you when you attempt to scam them, or even trolling you the same way this bloke was doing but...

It was definitely a first, to have someone flirt with you, even if it was still part of his trolling attempt.

"Your... credit card details?" You ended up adding, your voice still showing the surprise and light meekness that came from him catching you off-guard.

"Oh, of course. Are you ready? It's a very complex number." He replied.

"Ready when you are." You added as you steeled yourself for another smartass response or run around from him.

"Here it is: 1234-5678-9987-6543." He replied, reciting the numbers 1-9 in order and then backward. "And the three digits on the back are: 210."

Oh, he was so fucking annoying! He didn't get to troll you, even if it was pretty amusing of him to do so, then flirt with you, then go back to trolling.

"Sir, if you're not interested in the cruise, just say so. There's no need for this mockery." You replied, your tone serious and professional though you were definitely seething on the inside.

Simon could tell. And he reveled in it. "Oh, but I am interested!" He replied with a smirk behind his voice. "In fact, I want to know more. Will my cabin in the cruise have an ocean view?"

Simon heard you inhale aggressively on the other side of the line, steeling yourself not to hang up on him, or down right berating him on the phone. "Yes, Ai, of course!" He heard your fake cheeriness through your clenched teeth. "It'll be a luxury cabin, actually. Isn't that great?"

"No, it's not that great, actually. I get very seasick, you see?" Simon murmured. "Not to mention, ever since my pet goldfish died, I've just never been able to look at the ocean the same..." He added in a forced pitiful tone.

You went quiet again on the other side and Simon knew he had finally worn you out. He waited to hear the clicking sound of the call falling, but, instead, he just heard you let out a sigh.

"You're very frustrating." You murmured.

"Oh, my, is this how you speak to all your prize winners?" Simon gasped dramatically.

"Shut up... You didn't have to be a smartass, you know?!" You scolded him, as if you had any ground to stand on.

"No, I fear I did, sweet'art." Simon replied as he leaned casually against the kitchen counter. "You called me, interrupted my day, and wasted my time with a scam, of all things. I have every right to be a smartass and have some fun with it." He added, a smug tone obvious in the dulcets of his deep voice.

"Okay? You could've just hung up on me?" You were truly grasping at straws to justify your behaviour. It was comical.

Simon laughed dryly. "And waste an opportunity to annoy a parasitic leech like you?" He quipped.

That stunned you into silence for a moment and you couldn't help but pout a bit.

"Not to mention, what you're doing is illegal, you know that righ'? And I'm military, I could get you arrested for this." He added.

"For that, you'd need to know where I am." You retorted, maybe a bit bratilly. "Besides, I knew you were a soldier."

"And how did you know that?"

"You used the NATO phonetic alphabet while spelling 'your' name'." You replied directly. "Nobody spells 'Aiden' as 'Alpha-India-Delta-Echo-November'."

"So you knew I was military and you still went ahead with your little scam attempt? You're not that bright, are you?" He defied you, which earned him a scoff from your end.

"No, I already knew you were trolling me."

"Oh, so you just wanted to waste my time?"

"That's exactly it, Aiden."

"Sounds to me like you're just looking for trouble, da'lin'." He quipped, his voice having lowered to a gruffer tone.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. "Am not. I'm just enjoying myself. You're not the only one that can make jokes at people's expenses."

"No, you really are..." He tutted his tongue and shook his head. "Need I remind you you were trying to scam me, and other people?" He added in a tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I know what I was doing."

"Yeah? And are you proud of that? Proud of being a conniving little cunt who tries to take people's hard-earned money?" He taunted you.

You didn't reply. Of course you weren't proud. You still had a conscience! But you wouldn't tell him that. He wouldn't get the satisfaction of hearing you apologise.

"I see. You don't like what I'm saying, so you give me the silent treatment, is that it, sweet'art?" He teased. You could hear the smirk behind his words.

"I wonder if you'd still act like this if you had to face me and had to answer for yourself."

Closing your fists tight, you steel yourself again to gain some edge and reply to him. "I guess you're going to keep wondering then. Because it's not happening."

"You know, it's a shame your little computer spat out my phone number for you to call..." He trailed off.

"And why's that?"

"Because instead of anyone else, you got me... And that's just... really bad luck for you. Any other service member, you would've been fine..." He trailed off.

"What, are you some sort of General-Major-Chief thing, super high up the ladder?" You taunted.

Simon simply chuckled dryly on the other side of the line. "No. But I'm definitely the worst person you could've tried to play with."

"Oh, big scary man, what are you gonna do? Gonna come teach me a lesson?" You added, taunting him some more, clearly feeling comfortable behind your laptop, with your smartphone, sitting at home, comfortable and warm, with your pet at your feet. "Oh, I'm so scared!" You added, feigning fear in a dramatic tone.

"Is that a challenge I'm hearing, sweet'art? Inviting me to come pay you a visit?" Simon asked you, his brow cocking, despite the fact you couldn't see it.

You don't know what it was about the way he spoke. The way he said that. The way his voice sounded.

It sent a shiver down your spine, a cold sweat, like he was, for the first time, not joking around anymore.

"No...?" You murmured in reply, feeling your shoulders tensing in an unpleasant way.

"Yeah... That's an invite I'm hearing..." He disregarded what you said and chuckled. "Maybe I'll come pay you a visit then, hey? How does that sound, little leech?"

#ikea writes 💚#tw phone scam #cod mw2 #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #cod fanfic #masterlist #ghost x reader #phone scammer #crack fic #ddne #dead dove do not eat

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comfortless · 1 day

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this thought has been running around in my head for weeks and your König hcs are my favorite… so here i go

what icks do you think our König has? ik he may consider himself to fall in the “beggars can’t be choosers” category but i am just so curious… 🤔

FAVORITE?! 💞 you are so correct about the “beggars can’t be choosers” mentality. König is very much aware of how other people tend to view him as some creepy, stupid brute. i think that there is certainly a lot that bothers him, mostly attributed to his past, but none of it is an actual dealbreaker in any sense. you’re likely to be met with a cold shoulder and a bit of trust diminished at most. the majority of his “icks” are just him picking up on red flags. the gross or awkward things are just cute to him!

A very “vapid” approach to interests and such is going to make him concerned. König does not understand trends, or liking something simply because someone else does. He equates keeping up with pop culture and fashion as being similar to the children that tortured him in the past (So: popular kids with popular hobbies). Authenticity is held in high regard here. The stranger and more alienated that you are, the more compatible and similar you two may be in his mind.

This said, König would go feral seeing you in one of those pretty dresses or outfits that are all the rage. Dressing like a cute milkmaid for a picnic date, playing some sweet love song for him that you may have picked off a viral video, etc. He’s not exactly in touch with these things so he’s no proper judge or jury here.

Being too pushy. There’s a fine line there that’s not to be crossed. He much prefers playing the role of a leader rather than being a submissive follower. He’ll boast about being your devotee, worship like a dog at your feet, but he likes to feel in control of the relationship and what goes on within it.

He’ll never tell you directly that yes, his anxiety will be gnawing at his guts if you plead with him to come along with you to a commonly crowded mall, and expects that a simple rejection should suffice. It’s likely he would keep hushed about the fact that your frustrated pleading actually turns him on, too.

Being unnecessarily cruel. The man gets cruelty, he’s paid in abundance for it. But women should be sweet and soft. If you’re talking poorly about another person, using words like “ugly” or a slur of some kind, how are you any better than some bully? It does not matter that the victim can not hear you speaking about them, what matters is that he can. It would send him into a spiral of thinking that each time you two have had an argument, you’re likely cruelly chattering about him to your friends afterward.

Yet… he is very much the type to shoot an inept employee a glare and make demands. He will call his fellow operators all sorts of things when he returns from a mission gone wrong. König is the king of double standards here.

By extension, dogging him/his work/his interests is sure to bother him. König likes to believe that he’s done the work to make himself more pleasing now: trained his body through the military to give himself the stature women seem to drool over, covers what he can of his face when it’s socially acceptable so that others don’t harp on an unpleasant glimpse, even thinks of himself as some sort of chivalrous gentleman (very easy to do so as no one gets a peek at what goes on in his mind). His work, not therapy, is where he gets to blow off steam in a justifiable, honorable way. Sure, he’s got some dorky, juvenile interests, but they’re things that he enjoys.

Talk of previous relationships/sex would immediately make his blood boil! Even if it’s said to assure him that he’s better than a former lover. He’s just very jealous and if he were to be blunt, he would tell you he is addicted to the relationship and doesn’t want to think of anyone else ever having what he does currently. It’s best not to mention any past you may have had unless you care to answer a series of questions. “Were they better in bed?”… “Full name?” … “When did you last see them?”

Ironically, if you already have children, he would absolutely adore the stepdad role. It’s not so much as a challenge, then, only the glee that comes with getting to play savior for more than one person.

Infidelity. Whether in a past relationship or in a current one with him. The thought of you ever cheating on him, emotionally or physically, would tear him apart. Something as simple as a fantasy of wanting two or more men to serve you is filed messily in his brain with this, too. Same with you confessing to finding another man attractive, whether a celebrity, someone entirely fictional, or even some random civilian padding by on the sidewalk. All of that counts as some minute form of infidelity to König. He does not share.

He’s guilty of threesome fantasies, guilty of staring down a woman that he finds attractive… he just doesn’t act on these things, holds his tongue and huffs that he certainly wasn’t looking and would never want to fuck any one other than you. It does not really occur to him that those things are normal, especially in long term relationships.

Bear in mind that this is all from a man who almost entirely lacks shame. He’s comfortable with himself now (somewhat). He has no qualms with chewing the skin around his fingernails when he’s stressed out, picking his nose in front of you, shitting with the bathroom door wide open, or talking with his mouth full when he’s just that engaged in a conversation. I think it’s only fair to include some of the things he does that may be repulsive!

Absolutely clueless when it comes to seeing you cry. He has no idea how to comfort someone properly as he never really had that. His solution seems to be hovering over you and asking a thousand questions or just draping himself over you and letting your arms curl over him for comfort.

Would kiss you with his eyes open. Not his fault that you’re so pretty and he doesn’t want to miss a moment of it. Not always, but once is bad enough.

Would absolutely send you an “I miss you” text the day after your first date. Will also tell you that he’s in love with you the first time you have sex.

Will get hyperfixated on historical weapons and will absolutely purchase some rusted, ancient relic without telling you beforehand. It gets well polished and loved, then displayed on your living room wall.

Loves talking about his kills. He’s proud, because if there’s one thing that he’s good at it’s knowing where to shoot or stab or punch. He knows to hold his tongue about the more grisly details around someone delicate, but more often than not he is prone to slip-ups.

Will use your toothbrush without asking.

Thinks he’s very skilled and very cool because he can trim up any overgrown facial hair with a pocket lighter. It is not cool. There’s a razor and shaving cream right there. He may not burn himself, but it’s not exactly pleasant to have your bathroom smelling of burned hair.

Does not have a lick of fashion knowledge. Plain t-shirts, jeans, combat boots, maybe a belt if he cares to bother with it at most. At the least, when he’s at home, you can expect him to indulge in some nudist fantasy because it’s unlikely he will bother to wear a thing. Maybe socks.

#kö headcanons #this was super fun actually heheh #he can be a little gross as a treat! it is cute…

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rainylana · 3 days

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Patty Munson

note: a potential series if you guys want it! so please, let me know your thoughts and if you like my version of eddie’s daughter, named after pat benatar!

warnings: mentions of an absent parent, single dad!eddie, and language.

Patty Munson was the exact replica of her dad. From her looks to her attitude, you knew she was the daughter of Eddie Munson. With curly, jet black hair and doe, brown eyes, she had a spit fire attitude that raised a brow with strangers.

She didn’t like her vegetables like him, either, but Eddie always made sure she ate them off her little plate. “Eat at least some of it, Patty.” He’d say.

She started cursing at four, and though Eddie tried to correct her when she’d say something inappropriate at the age of five, he always had a laugh about it when she wasn’t around.

“Look at this crazy bastard, daddy!” She had said, holding up a fish that Uncle Wayne had helped her catch. Wayne shook his head, laughing quickly behind her with a hand to her back, making sure she didn’t slip in the mud.

“Patricia.” He tried to keep his voice from shaking from a choked laugh. “What did I say about grown up words?”

She was an extremely stubborn child. She liked doing things herself, absolutely everything. She was a daredevil, another thing she’d gotten from him. She almost always threw a fit when she had to hold his hand when crossing the street. He had just began letting her get the mail down at the driveway by herself, and she was smiling widely the whole walk down there.

Her mom had left Patty to him after she’d delivered her, and Eddie hadn’t heard from her since. It was hard raising her alone, especially in the beginning, suffering from a broken heart. If it hadn’t been for Wayne and his friends, he surely would have crumbled.

She didn’t talk much about the fact she didn’t have a mom around, but Eddie knew one day she’d start asking questions. The idea of it made him sick to his stomach.

She liked her dad’s tattoos. She colored on some of them sometimes with markers. He had outlines, line work, of tattoos that “need pretty pink color, daddy.”.

When she was a baby, she pulled on his hair all the time. Never Steve’s or Nancy’s. Always dad’s. Eddie never had trouble with the terrible two’s, however three was a particular rough age. She was sick a lot then. Nothing serious, but it always seemed she had a cold or some sort of allergy. He took of work a lot during that time and lost money he didn’t have to loose, but he made it work. He quickly learned that as a parent, you somehow always found a way to manage. It was a superpower.

She was a good kid. She didn’t cry much as a baby, and when she does cry, it’s usually when she’s tired. She hates naps, but anytime she pouts and her lip pulls down, her eyes start to water and she stomps her foot, Eddie knows she’s ready to take a nap. He can almost always bribe her to lay down with reading a story to her.

Anytime she tries a new food, he always makes sure they’re at the parking lot of the hospital, paranoid you’re going to be allergic to something he’s given you. He also learned that being a parent takes years off your life. You’re scared all the time, yet you’ve never been happier. You love like you’ve never loved before. It was the most joyous, powerful thing he’d ever felt. Patty was the love of his life.

She always wants to go to work with dad. She doesn’t like school much. Yet another thing she got from Eddie. She’s good at her letters and numbers, has friends, but more often than not she’s being send home with a note about cursing in class or saying something out of turn.

Her first day of school was hard on both of them. She didn’t understand why dad couldn’t stay. He tried to make it seem like a playdate with all her friends, just a really long play date. He almost cried on the way home, hating the way she cried with her teacher when he left. It was like that everyday for the first week of school, becoming easier over time,

The first time Eddie punished her he could barely do it. He’d told her she couldn’t watch tv before bed. She’d gotten angry and cussed at him. He almost backed down, because it was his fault she learned the words anyways. But he stayed strong, though her tears tore him up on the inside, thinking that she would hate him forever. Another thing he learned, kids got over things quickly.

Patty and Eddie were best friends, two peas in a pod. They were the dictionary definition of father and daughter. He loved nothing more on planet earth than her, and he knew now, that his life finally had meaning.

#eddie munson #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #dad!eddie headcanons #eddie munson fic #patty munson #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines

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sourholland · 15 hours

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based off of taylor swift’s song style

a/n → we are so back. here’s the official playlist for style 🩵

summary → he’s the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of lake erie—but does he have the heart to match it? you’re the bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. it doesn’t take much to catch the eye of joe burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.

warnings → strong language, mentions of sex

word count → 3.3k

reblog and leave some comments if you enjoy!!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter 5

After you and Joe had come close to being caught in his locker room, both of you decided it was best to make a swift exit plan that let you both make it to the parking lot unscathed and unsuspecting. You departed first, quickly turning the corner and leaving the hallway with your bag slung over your shoulder. Joe had in fact kept your panties, taunting you for a minute and motioning for you to attempt to grab them from him. Spooked by the disturbance, you only told him that he now owes you two pairs.

Joe left a few minutes after you, taking a completely different hallway out of the facility and practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. He asked to see you before you’d split, so the fact that he knew he was going to follow you back to your apartment had seemingly put a bit of pep in his step. You watched him cross the large parking lot, waving at you and smiling in a way that left you shaking your head and laughing. He must have changed clothes before he walked out, adorning a pair of shorts and a black jacket overtop his white hoodie.

The drive was quiet, save for the few times Joe would purposefully begin to ride the ass of your car or honk like you had done something wrong. Funny, you bit back some amusement as you let the horn blare right back at him. He was unlike any guy you had been with in that aspect, his humor was genuine and never had anything to do with making you feel bad about yourself or to poke fun. His jokes never cut deep, which was rare in your few relationships thus far.

Joe parked beside you in your unit’s garage. His Porsche most definitely stood out amongst the line of cars, sleek and spotless as if he had just taken it through the car wash. Everything about him was so clean and prim and proper, it intimidated you now more than ever. A sudden feeling of insecurity washed over you, wondering if he was silently judging you and your life. You couldn’t help gazing down at the steering wheel, thinking endlessly about how much Joe really possessed in athleticism, riches, and looks compared to your ex-boyfriends.

Suddenly his knuckle wrapped against your window, “You got mac ‘n’ cheese up there? Tell me that doesn’t sound so good right now.”

You couldn’t help laughing at him, his so-casual words through the window that you rolled down. He leaned into your car, arms folded so his chin rested on them as he perched and tilted his head to the side. He looked inside of your car now, having never seen it. His legs were so long, you noted once again as you breathed another chuckle at his stature. He merely shook his head, waiting for a response about the food.

“I think I have the little Kraft cups. I might have some of the normal boxes, it might be Velvetta, though,” you watched as he gave you an eyeroll.

“You think one of those cups is gonna sustain me? I’m insulted,” he placed a hand on his heart and finally pulled his head out of the car. He opened the car door for you, motioning for you to step out with an outstretched hand for your bag. “I was practically inhaling those things at eight. You can’t seriously be full off one.”

“Excuse me, Joe. Not all of us are..” you spoke with booming amusement and sarcasm, prepared to give a dramatic reenactment as you approached the elevator. “The one, the only Joe Burrow! Heartthrob NFL quarterback, generous philanthropist, sexiest–”

“Ah okay, I see. Someone’s got jokes,” he interrupted, smiling ear to ear. “Please, don’t stop on my accord. What about me is so sexy?”

As you crossed the threshold and began upward in the elevator, you gave him a teasing smirk and noticed just how pink his cheeks had gotten at your comments. He was still holding your bag, bouncing up and down on his heels and occasionally glancing sidelong at you while you went up. The ride was a comfortable silence, simply peering at each other when the other was not looking in a sort of high school fashion.

Joe discarded his coat as he entered your freshly unlocked apartment, murmuring something about how he was sweating. You watched him curiously, tidying up and discarding some of the random things you and the girls had strewn around the apartment. He hadn’t ever been inside, he’d only picked you up when you went out for drinks. He definitely had no intention of masking his curiosity, he walked along the walls of your living room and noted each photo and piece of decor. He picked up a frame on the TV stand, it was a moment captured on film from your study abroad trip in Australia. His eyes scanned the photograph where you and Sydney were perched on pink beach towels, smiling drunkenly and wearing floppy hats for shade.

“What’s your life like?” He asked you, not a hint of hesitation in his question. “I know you’re a cheerleader, I know you’re going to school to become a teacher. What about all the other stuff, though?”

You paused and hummed, “I feel like my life might bore in comparison to yours.”

“I highly doubt that, but tell me anyway.”

“I grew up in a pretty rural area in Massachusetts. I have an older brother, his name is Jack. My parents have been divorced for a few years, but they stuck it out until I moved out. For better or for worse,” you told him without maintaining much eye contact. “I’m really not trying to dump all of my childhood trauma on you, I promise.”

“Y/N, what are you talking about? I asked,” Joe said, reassuring you and noting how you fiddled with the strings of the knit throw blanket. “I want to know, I really do.”

His expression was genuine, his eyes serious and fixated solely on you. He had discarded his car keys and phone on a nearby countertop, giving you his full attention as you inhaled deeper and thought seriously about what you wished to tell him. He felt unreal, like something you had dreamed up and manifested into your living room. A part of you thought you should pinch yourself and look again, sure that he would have disappeared into thin air. No, you forced yourself out of the thought and made yourself see that he was just as real and tangible as you are.

“We grew up pretty poor, for a while we were a one income household living off food stamps and just getting by. It was rough, those years especially, but we managed and eventually my mom and dad were able to save. They got into real estate later on and then opened a store, I’m grateful for all of it. I worked hard in school to help with scholarships and stuff so they wouldn’t be totally responsible for putting me through college,” the words flowed without much thought and he nodded, listening intently. “They weren’t happy. I knew it long before anyone mentioned divorce, but I was still pretty wrecked. I’m grateful, though. They gave me a great work ethic, you know just watching them build a better life for our family. I wouldn’t even live here without their help.”

“I can tell you’re a hard worker,” he was assessing you in your entirety. “Are you close with them? Your family, I mean.”

You stilled for a moment, thinking intently about the question. Joe was sitting across from you, elbows braced on his knees as he leaned into the conversation. His gaze was soft, gentle even. He wasn’t looking at you with pity, however. His expression was more of a mixture of understanding and concentration, like he was afraid to say the wrong thing.

“Not so much, no,” you answered. “But the love is still there. I just have a hard time expressing it to my family, I guess. If that makes any sense at all. With my friends, it always just comes so much easier. I’ve just always felt outside myself around my family, like they know nothing about me.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“It’s just kind of how it's always been, I guess.”

Joe listened to you for ten more minutes, not protesting when you rose from the loveseat and seemed to want to change the subject to something more positive. Following you into the kitchen, he began to look through the cupboards for something to make. It didn’t take him long before finding the Kraft cups, turning around and showing you with an eye roll. He began rattling off the nutrition label, making you raise your phone to him with a hand over your mouth as you captured a short clip of his fully serious assessment.

He continued to sift through the materials of your kitchen, finding an actual box of mac ‘n’ cheese and beginning to look for your pots and pans. You silently extended a hand, letting him take the pot from you and start cooking. You walked over to the fridge, glancing around your options for drinks.

“So I have Celsius, milk, Titos, Capri suns, and water,” you told him, cringing internally at the selection.

“What flavor Capri Sun?” He asked, stirring the food in front of him.

“Looks like… strawberry kiwi.”

“Yeah, I’ll take one of those,” he looked over his shoulder at you.

You both ate in front of the living room television, watching The Hunger Games underneath the throw blanket you had extended to him as soon as you sat down. He took it graciously, eating much faster and going back for a second helping before you’d finished even half of your bowl. You snickered softly, wondering the daily caloric intake of an NFL player and how much Joe had to eat to maintain his figure.

Once you both finished eating, he followed you into your bathroom with his bag. He took his toothpaste and toothbrush out, the set you assumed was only for practice and games. You both stood in front of the mirror, brushing silently until Joe would make a face in the mirror or you would go to rinse your brush and he would slap your ass. He took the lid of the mouthwash you had filled up, knocking it back just as you had. He stifled a laugh while you swished, pulling his phone out and taking a picture of you with your hands on your hips, eyes narrowed at him and mouth full of mouthwash.

Joe’s cold hand slid onto your upper thigh as you settled back into the couch. He pinched softly and you whacked his arm slightly harder, causing both of you to laugh as he threw his hands up in playful defense. You let him lean in as he mouthed the word ‘truce’, only to attack your middle and put you with your back on the couch. He hovered above you, pressing a chaste kiss to your neck and lips.

“Should I go?” Joe asked, looking down at his phone and realizing how late it is.

“Do you want to go?” You asked him in one breath.

The only light illuminating his face was from the movie playing in the background. Joe’s pupils were blown, his hair falling forward as he was still above you. His body pressed a fraction of his weight on you, both of your pulses pounding. He let himself think about the question, humming lowly and taking in the visual before him once again.

“I never want to go,” he said, half-joking with a smirk. “You tell me. I have to be at the facility to watch film at eight, I’ll be gone before you wake up. It’ll be like I was never here. ”

Is that what he wants? The question wracked your brain as you sat contemplating how casual this was for him. His flattery sometimes felt so real, like more than foreplay or meaningless flirting. There was always the undertone of what was wrong with you two being tangled up in the same blanket, though. Joe couldn’t bring you on a real date, you would never be able to show anyone the video from the kitchen–why shouldn’t this be casual to him? He likes you, perhaps. But how can you expect him to want to tiptoe around each other’s jobs?

“Okay, yeah,” the words came out more breathy than you intended. “Sounds good to me.”

Joe studied your dimly lit face, “Everything alright?”

You told yourself not to be that same girl you were at the bar, the one you could only assume he viewed as a psychotic bitch. A part of you was willing yourself to shove down some of those strong feelings for him, giving him a soft smile and nodding. He relaxed a bit, letting you turn in his arms and watch the movie with your back to his chest.

It was only about ten minutes before you heard the sounds of his soft snores, one arm tucked underneath his head and the other firm around your chest. His breathing was deep and steady, occasionally pulling you into him further. After a few minutes, you grabbed your phone off of the coffee table and turned your camera front-facing, making sure the flash was off and snapping a picture to send to your group chat with the girls.

Sydney: Oh. My. GOD.

Sydney: I’m actually throwing up rn what the fuck

Sydney: LOOK HOW BIG HIS HAND IS

Lena: I’m freaking the fuck out omg

Lena: I’m so jealous

Lena: He’s so

Sydney: He’s fine as fuck

Y/N: IKR

Y/N: I think I’m obsessed

Sydney: Girl wbk that

Sydney: Be fucking for real

Y/N: I simply do not think I will be making it to class on Monday

Lena: That’s three days away

Y/N: Ugh Ik

Y/N: Last first day of classes!

Y/N: I’ll call you guys tomorrow and debrief

Both of them hearted the message, sending their goodnight texts and equally dirty messages about you and Joe sleeping together. You flipped the TV off and let yourself lean into his arms a bit further, inhaling his scent of high end cologne and mint. He held onto you protectively, caging you into his embrace and brushing his nose against your hair. You slowly let

yourself drift to the sound of his breaths.

⋆------------⋆

Joe woke up around six, he felt you pressing into him and against him first. His neck was stiff, wishing he’d have made it to your bed last night. He couldn’t recall falling asleep, assuming he had knocked out while you both watched the movie. He inhaled the scent of your shampoo, closing his eyes for a few moments and allowing himself to linger between that sweet spot of sleep and consciousness.

He savored the few moments of domesticity, wondering what it would be like to wake up in bed next to the other. Everything about you was so intoxicating, he had never been much of a risk taker before. He would have never risked bringing you into the locker room if he was in a completely sane state of mind. He thought of you with such desperation and yearning that he simply couldn’t have cared less about what anyone had to say about it.

Joe knew this made him selfish, made him irresponsible, and that was the worst part. He knew and he didn’t give a shit, he couldn’t stay away from you. Not that he had really tried, but he also lacked the desire to. Being around you was bad for him, Joe thought as he watched you sleep soundlessly beside him. You cause him to completely lose control of who he is and yet he cannot seem to stay away.

Slipping out from behind you without waking you was difficult, but he managed to get out over the back of the couch and readjust the blanket to cover you. Joe walked around, grabbing his jacket and pulling it on whilst also cleaning up a bit and helping with the dishes he helped dirty. He came up with the idea to leave a note once he was left looking around your kitchen, shaking off his damp hands and pulling his sleeves back down. He found a notepad and pen easily, but stared blankly at the sheet. Is leaving a note too much? He had a hard time reading your attitude towards certain things, he had tried to get you to stay for breakfast and you flat out refused him. Perhaps it was better to adhere to what was agreed on, it would be like he was never there.

After a few seconds of contemplation, Joe sighed and set the pen down. He left quietly after brushing a hand over your head once more, shutting the door softly behind him so as not to wake you up.

⋆------------⋆

When you rolled over to grab your phone, Joe was already long gone and his spot beside you had now gone cold. Yawning, you sat up and padded to the bathroom to pee and contemplate everything that had gone on during the previous night. At first glance, you assumed Joe had tidied up the strewn pillows on the living room floor and moved your phone to the coffee table.

Once you made it into the kitchen, you realized he had washed the dishes that had been used and pulled out a sheet of paper. There was nothing written on it, pen sitting idly by as if he planned to write something for you to wake up to. Casual, you reminded yourself. Both of you had agreed on casual.

The run you went on this morning was particularly long, headphones blaring as you pushed yourself further and further away from your complex. Thoughts of cheerleading and Joe weighed on your mind heavily, his head between your thighs the night before most certainly did not make it any easier for you to focus on controlling your breathing. Casual felt like a punishment, especially in this case. He couldn’t have felt a fraction of how you did, your thoughts occupied constantly with the sight of his unruly hair and large hands on your body. He was making you crazy, the way he touched you was genuinely driving you into insanity. Much less the fact that you risked your spot on the team each time you answered at his beck and call.

Your phone began to ring, Lena’s caller ID popping up. You answered, sweat coating you like a layer of oil.

“Don’t freak out.”

“Freak out?” I heaved, taking a long sip of water. “Why would I freak out?”

“There’s a picture of you and Joe on X. You can’t see your face at all and you’re at a red light, all you can see is him and some of your hair,” she informed you, cautiously attempting to keep your anxiety at bay. “It’s days old, but it popped up on my timeline just now and it has a few thousand likes.”

She sent you a screenshot, fingers shaking as you opened up your texts and tapped on the picture. It was a photo from the first night you’d gone to get food, a sneaky snapshot at a redlight when your window was half down. Thankfully, only your shoulders and the back of your head was visible under the light that made the color of your hair hard to detect. Joe was looking over at you, smiling with one hand occupied by the half-gone milkshake.

Feeling like the wind was knocked out of you, you silently copied the image and sent it to Joe.

“I feel like I should end things with him officially,” was all you said to Lena. “He wants casual and I’m not sure this is worth casual.”

lmk to be added to the taglist!

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didderd · 11 hours

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>.> <.< how would your boys do with a easily flustered shy partner? :o

hehe :3 (under read more, bc it's another long one)

Tic thinks it's cute, and relates a lot to it. he weirdly finds comfort in it, and he'll try his best to make you feel comforted when he's around too. he feels like he doesn't have to be as nervous around you, and might be a bit more straight forward. not very flirty, but takes the initiative more, and where with others his flirting would be very subtle, with you, he'll flirt more obviously (tho still lightly for the most part). he just loves the pretty flush he gets out of you.

Tac finds it adorable. he can't help but push it as far as he can without overwhelming you too much. he takes any chance he gets to make your face light up with that pretty blush, but he'll be patient with you when you do get overwhelmed. Tou has a similar mindset to Tac on this one, but he's not as blatantly flirty most of the time. he'll take any chance to make you blush, but be subtle about it. he plays it off like his flirting isn't intentional, and plays innocent, asking if you're ok and if you have a fever when your face gets so warm. it's hard sometimes to tell if he's teasing or actually doesn't know what he's doing, at least for those who don't know him as well as his brother does. though if you get him alone, and he's either known you for long enough or he's drunk (or very high), his mask will slip. you'll see he will flirt just as much as Tac, and it's all intentional.

Snaps is the worst of them. he is a fuck boy at heart (or soul), and will drive you to the point you feel like your face is gonna melt with how hot it is. he will figure out what makes you the most flustered and abuse that knowledge. he can't help it, you're so cute when you're a stuttering, flustered mess. he is both good with words and touching, and he will use both to get that blush he loves. his only line is crossing boundaries. he has high respect for consent, like anyone should, and he's a pretty good judge of when he needs to back off, or not go any further.

#tac's is the shortest again smh #he is a simple man with simple desires #tourette's sanses #tic sans #tac sans #tou sans #snaps sans #didderd writes #didderd asks #rainbowut #(tou's brother convinced him to smoke weed to help him relax #but he rarely gets very high and he's good at hiding it when he's smoked a bit #but you might catch him just.. baked. in his room sometimes)

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teecupangel · 3 days

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*gets through the fireplace* Bonjour! Desmond in the Uncharted games! Because I find it funny if he would meet Nathan, thanks to them having the same VA. Adios! *uses the smoke bomb and runs*

So, for this one, we’re going for the Uncharted series is part of the AC series because plot bunny just hit me right at the face.

And yes.

Nathan Drake is absolutely a descendant of the Auditore-Kenway line. (Spoilers to the Uncharted series), it’s heavily implied Nate isn’t really related to Francis Drake and we’ll make use of that setup.

The church Nate grew up in was actually a front of the Brotherhood. His family doesn’t have ties with the Brotherhood, not really, but Sam did learn of the Brotherhood during his stay in the orphanage and is recruited.

Now, Sam isn’t exactly loyal to the Creed. More often than not, he was more in it to get the skills necessary to survive. He kept it a secret from Nate though because he didn’t want him dealing with anything related to the Templars and the Assassins. To keep Nate away from the Templars and the Assassins, Sam tells Nate that they’re last name is Drake.

Samuel Morgan was an Assassin.

Sam Drake was Nathan Drake’s older brother.

So things happened…

Nate meets Sully while Sam was in prison (an undercover mission for the Brotherhood).

Later on, Nate joins Sam in adventuring but Sam keeps any thing connected to the Assassins and the Brotherhood away from Nate.

Sam is an Assassin who is only known by very few other Assassins but Nate has some inkling that something fishy was going on, he just wasn’t sure what it was.

There were specific artifacts that Sam wanted and was okay parting with more lucrative stuff just to get it.

But then…

They teamed up with Rafe…

Sam supposedly died…

Even in the eyes of the Brotherhood.

And that is how Samuel Morgan died and Sam Drake survived the Great Purge that would happen two years from his apparent death.

So we have different points in Uncharted that we can catapult Desmond to.

2008 – A 21 year old Desmond is employed by Elena Fisher as her cameraman as they join Nathan Drake in finding Francis Drake’s coffin. This ends with them being part of the whole quest for El Dorado (the corpse of which is an Isu that contracted some kind of deadly virus that is severely dangerous to humans but Desmond and Nate have immunity due to their Isu genes). In this one, Nate actually acts more like an older big brother to Desmond and Elena joked about how they sound a lot alike.

2010 – A 23 year old Desmond gets roped into Chloe and Harry’s plan with Nate because he’s been fired from Bad Weather due to an altercation and has been sidelining as a thief using the training he received from the Farm. He also may or may not have had a fling with Harry Flynn (according to Chloe) and Nate is absolutely questioning Desmond’s taste.

2012 – Desmond escaped Abstergo before the Assassins got him and he is absolutely suffering from Altaïr’s Bleeding Effect. It’s by chance that he is in Yemen at the same time Nate and Sully are there to meet up with Elena. Maybe you can even add in that Desmond used to be Elena’s cameraman for a bit. Anyway, he joins the group because he feels like he knows the Atlantis of Sands that they are looking for. To be more exact… his Bleed of Altaïr knows of it.

2015 – Desmond survived the Solar Flare and has been working for the Brotherhood. He’s tasked with looking into a man named Sam Drake because he sounded a lot like the late Samuel Morgan and they needed to check if he is (1) alive and (2) faked his own death because he was a Templar mole like Daniel Cross. He gets roped into the search of Avery’s treasure and ends up Bleeding as Edward more than once because Edward knows a bit about this supposed treasure.

And, just to be clear, Nate does not have the exact same ancestors as Desmond. He’s Haytham Kenway’s descendant from a fling he had in England so they have the same ancestors from the Auditore-Kenway line until Haytham Kenway.

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prosebushpatch · 15 hours

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Okay so I recently, finally, watched Wish and I have some thoughts. Overall, not as bad as everyone makes it out to be, but still has a lot of fundamental story problems and I've got to get them off of my chest. I'll mostly be focused on Magnifico because I think his motivations and arc largely represent the problem with the overall theme.

Okay so my biggest problem with Magnifico is his motivation. His tragic backstory. How on earth does he go from losing his whole family to thinking, the only way he can prevent that from happening again is to grant wishes? The logic doesn't track. It almost makes sense in his creating a kingdom where he protects everyone and "doesn't even charge rent," but it does not make sense with his wish granting. Having a great need to be control to make sure he doesn't lose anyone ever again can be a compelling motivation for a villain, where we see lines crossed that don't justify the intent, but in the movie, he's too self-absorbed to seem to have any actual care for the people of Rosas.

I think if the motivation was changed to something like Magnifico had once been a bright-eyed, enthusiastic wish granter who blindly believed all wishes were good but learned the hard way that that wasn't true could have been a better fit for the overall goal of the movie. Imagine that he granted a wish for a wicked person who used that wish to hurt others, or if Magnifico granted a wish but that wish ended up ruining the person's life because what they wanted wasn't what they needed (i.e. Remember The Princess and the Frog? Dig a little deeper) and that person could have went after Magnifico and blamed him for their troubles (harkening back to We Don't Talk about Bruno). This would be an understandable tragic backstory for Magnifico, and better explain why he's so careful about the wishes he grants. And, perhaps the reason he keeps the wishes he doesn't want to grant is to keep the people in his kingdom docile. No one will be angry with him for not granting their wishes if he makes them forget them and lose that drive and motivation, which makes more sense than the unexplained hording them like he does in the movie? Why does he keep them in the movie other than admiring the wishes? It doesn't make sense to me.

This would give Asha more of a reason to oppose him, if it's shown how his desire to not get hurt or to inadvertently cause hurt turned into a paranoia where he drains people of wishes to fly or play music that inspires others. And, as a side note, we need to see more of how Rosas is a kingdom of people who lack drive and motivation, where only those younger than 18 have that special part of them that inspires them to chase after a dream (something that Astor Rhymemaster touched on). Because that's the point of wishes, right? That's the point of the entire Disney canon. A dream is a wish your heart makes. That star can only get you so far, it takes hard work and determination. It's wanting something better in life, it's dreaming of leaving behind all you know to chase after a tangible light. It's finding a new dream, it's finding a new wish as you grow and learn about yourself and the world.

I don't think the movie Wish understood what makes wishes so important in Disney stories. You know what wishes do? They ignite change. It's not about getting what you want, it's about finding the courage to chase after something better. Ariel wants to be where the people are, but really she wants to be somewhere where others are willing to understand her and in the end, she finds that and makes amends with her father, who finally is willing to see her for who she is. Rapunzel wants to see the lights, and that desire pushes her to leave a tower she's been trapped in her whole life, learning that the world is not as cruel and cold as her abusive mother told her. Cinderella wants to go to the ball, to dance with people who treat her as a person and not a servant of cinders and ash. That wish is granted by a fairy godmother and gives her a hope that is worth fighting for, a hope that helps her reclaim what is rightfully hers; a glass slipper that fits only her and the love that comes with it.

Wishes inspire change. The movie should have been about that. Magnifico could have been right, that some wishes inspire negative change that can drag down multiple people. The kingdom of Rosas could have been so placid because change is scary. Maybe Magnifico could have convinced people, after taking their wish, that it wasn't worth it. Maybe the wish ceremonies could have changed so it wasn't portrayed as some sort of lottery everyone looks forward to, but Magnifico would grant wishes on the spot if he decided they were good and worthwhile, and he would lock away the wishes that would cause trouble and tribulations. 18 year olds could be enthusiastic to give him their wishes, thinking they were surely good and worth granting, only to forget their wish and be told that their wish would have only brought about their unhappiness, this would have justified a more solemn tone in the kingdom, setting up a world where people are mostly downtrodden, thinking their wishes are bad and pointless and they're better off without them. Imagine Cinderella or Rapunzel being told their wishes weren't good, reinforcing all the things their abusive families tell them, taking away that hope and courage to find something better for themselves.

Here's where the true conflict could come in. Asha could be onto this from the beginning, and her opening song could have been about this concern that the people who didn't get their wishes granted aren't willing to try at all. (Because, after all, why doesn't Sabino play music at all? Having that taken from him would take so much joy and creative expression from his life!) But why does Asha know something is amiss?

Simon.

Imagine that Magnifico has a strict rule not to ever share your wish with another person because then it wouldn't come true. It makes sense with our own superstitions, and then makes it so that no one knows anyone else's wishes. Maybe your best friend changes so drastically after giving up their wish, but you believe, like everyone else, that their wish would have only caused suffering. What can you do about it? Well what if Simon told Asha about his wish? What if Asha knew his wish wasn't dangerous and couldn't imagine a way that it could go wrong? That would give her a reason to doubt Magnifico and put more emphasis on how Simon has lost his drive like all the other adults in the kingdom. And it can also emphasize in the end that sharing your wishes and dreams with others can be a powerful thing. Just the act of sharing your dreams can inspire others to go after their own, and they can give you the encouragement to chase your wish too. Wishes inspire change, love gives you the courage to make it happen.

Imagine if the star boy used to be a human, who wished to help others and lost his humanity to do it. Imagine his wish confirms Magnifico's belief, that wishes cause suffering because star boy lost his tether to earth and is separated from the people he loves. Imagine how he foils Asha who also wants to grant everyone's wishes. Imagine him ensuring she doesn't make the same mistake he did while she gives him a reason to change again, to anchor himself to humanity again because he loves her enough not to leave for forever.

Imagine the movie confirming that, yes, change is scary. Chasing your dreams won't always make things better. You might fail more than you succeed and some wishes cannot coincide with each other, leading to grief and strife. But some wishes are worth it. Sometimes, chasing after something better and failing is worth leaving a worse situation. Sometimes taking that chance is worth it, and, like in all fairy tales, if you are kind and generous and act with love, that will make all the difference in the end.

Also, I know everyone wished for a Magnifico and Amaya evil power couple, but imagine if Magnifico was truly in love with Amaya, as he is in the movie, but that love is eventually his undoing. Like Amaya leaps in front of Asha, and Magnifico stops or redirects his attack because she's the one thing he loves more than himself and that is the weakness that Asha and co can take advantage of. Imagine Amaya keeping Magnifico in the mirror and he gets to dote on her from his imprisonment for forever. I'm just saying. At least 30 sickos like me would be into that. Imagine the depth it would give to the themes of love and change and wishing and how acts of love make all the difference.

Alright, I'll get off my soap box. I just really wish Wish could have been stronger because these fairy tales Disney is famous for matter. They really do. But the movie feels too stale and shallow and too much of a cash grab that knows the outline of a disney musical, but is unable to understand the heart of why they work.

#rose and rambles #wish 2023 #disney #disney wish #if you read anything i post let it be this im shaking the bars of my cage #I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT FAIRY TALES AND DREAMS LET ME AT THE PEOPLE WHO MADE WISH SO SHALLOW #ILL MAKE THEM TEA AND GIVE THEM A GOOD SCOLDING #WHILE STEALING THEIR CLOTHES AND PUTTING ON A FAKE MUSTACHE TO TAKE OVER WHILE THEY'RE NIBBLING ON NICE COOKIES #THAT'S A TOTALLY NORMAL THING TO DO RIGHT #if you want to tell a good story you gotta tell it yourself <- my villain origin story #or at least my Sebastian kiss the girl moment. i can't believe they took out star boy. God forbid independent women have romantic interests #anyway im obsessed with how Magnifico always called Amaya “my love” and i think we can do beautiful and twisted things with that #Also i kind of hate the whole 'oh there's no saving him from this evil magic corruption' like le please that's the most stupid thing to eve #be in a fairy tale #just proves these people didn't actually read the snow queen #also also go watch Astor Rhymemaster she's a genius and explains songs IN SUCH AN IN DEPTH WAY #i haven't interacted with much other wish stuff so idk how others are rewriting it but this my ideal

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cheynovak · 14 hours

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Somewhere only we know - Part 2

Dean Winchester x F/Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: 18+, smut, fluff, angst, just a lot of love

Side note: English isn’t my first language.

This story does not follow the SPN timeline.

After the hunt where Dean met Y/N in a dream caused by a Djinn the brothers move on. Although Dean and Y/N said goodbye she keeps lingering in his head. What if he had stayed, would she loved, him the same way as she did in their shared dream.

Now many years later their paths cross again.

The bunker echoed with the sound of new voices, an underground sanctuary where the Winchester brothers found solace amidst the chaos of their world. Sam, ever the strategist, had brought a new purpose to their home. He had opened its doors to those who strayed from the apocalypse world, seeking refuge and guidance in the ways of hunting.

Dean paced the dimly lit corridors, the tension of unfamiliar faces settling heavily upon him. He had always been wary of outsiders, his loyalty fiercely guarded around those he deemed worthy. But this influx of strangers, each with their own tales and trials, left him feeling like a stranger in his own home.

Mary had spoken to Sam a few hours ago, about how Dean lived in silence amongst them. Worried about her oldest son she had asked Sam to talk to him. Giving him more purpose.

One evening, as the bunker hummed with the murmurs of its newfound inhabitants, Sam sought out his brother in the confines of his room. He found Dean sitting alone, listening to some music to shut out the chaos swirling outside his door.

“Hey, Dean,” Sam’s voice broke through the stillness, a beacon of familiarity in the darkness. Dean glanced up, his expression guarded yet softened by the sight of his brother. “Hey, Sammy,” he greeted, the lines of tension easing from his features.

“Why don’t you join us for dinner tonight, it might be nice to meet some people.” Dean sighed, the weight of responsibility pressing down upon him like a leaden shroud. “I don’t know, Sammy,” he confessed, his voice heavy with the weight of unspoken fears.

“I’m pretty comfy out here.“ Sam looked around, “What are you doing all day, Dean?“ Well you know, “Watch tv, wash or work on Baby, listen to some music.” speaking of music. The second Foreigners waiting for a girl like you started playing Dean pushed the skip button.

“Still can’t hear that song huh?” Dean pretended it was nothing, shrugging his shoulders. “Dean... it has been years. Why didn’t you search for her already?” “And tell her what Sam? I’m sorry for not being there for you. Sorry for driving off? Sorry for not being able to give you what you need.”

“Dean...” Sam started. “No Sam! I made a choice, I’m ok with that.” An awkward silence fell between the brothers. He didn’t believe his older brother, he loved or cared either too much or too little and, in this case, it was way too much.

“Well, you need to get out more, maybe you could fetch us the food I just ordered?” Sam suggested, Dean rose from his seat with a heavy sigh. “If you want me gone, just say so Sammy.” Sam looked hurt and shocked. ”D-Dean that’s not it...” But before he could say more the older brother was gone.

As he drove, the cool breeze of the open road washing over him, Dean felt a sense of liberation he hadn’t realized he’d been craving.

Y/N sat at a cozy booth in the burger joint, as she waited for her date to return from the restroom so they could leave. The soft chatter of other diners and the clinking of silverware filled the air, creating a soothing ambiance that enveloped her in a sense of calm.

Alex wasn’t a bad guy, but their conversations were filled with awkward silences and when he talked all he could talk about was work. They met at the office, he was always the nice quiet guy.

When he asked her out, she knew how much it would have taken from him. So, she said yes. As she zoomed out, looking in front of her, amidst the gentle hum of conversation, she heard it.

A familiar rumble, a distinct purr that sent a shiver of recognition down her spine. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognised the sound. She glanced through the window, her breath catching in her throat as she spotted the unmistakable silhouette of a Chevy Impala parked outside.

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, memories flooding her mind like a tidal wave of nostalgia. The sound of that engine was etched into her soul, a reminder of a time long past yet never forgotten.

Her date returned to the table, a quizzical look in his eyes as he noticed the smile playing on her lips. “What’s got you grinning like that?” he asked, curiosity lacing his words.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her gaze lingering on the Impala parked outside. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of wistfulness. “Just a fond memory, that’s all.”

Her date nodded, accepting her vague answer with a shrug before diving back into conversation. But Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of longing that settled in the pit of her stomach, the echo of that familiar sound reverberating through her thoughts like a haunting melody.

Y/N had to be honest and tell Alex a few times she didn’t hear him. All she could do was glance outside.

When they stepped out of the diner, the cool night air wrapping around them like a comforting embrace. Y/N’s eyes immediately sought out the familiar shape of the Impala parked nearby, her steps instinctively leading her towards it.

Leaving her date standing alone a few feet away.

As she approached the car, her hand reached out almost of its own accord, gliding over the smooth surface of the Impala’s body. Tracing her curves like she was a woman needed to be loved. She peeked inside her heart raced. It looked exactly like the car he used to drive.

And then she noticed the carvings, the initials, the same once he had seen that night. After taking a breath she greeted the car like she had been a friend.

This must be a dream. She thought. I'm dreaming.

“Hello, baby,” she murmured softly out of nostalgia, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her date watched in surprise, a curious expression flickering across his features. “Is this your car?” he asked, his tone tinged with a mix of confusion and admiration.

Y/N didn’t turn to him, a sheepish smile playing on her lips as she was reliving her memories in her mind. “No, actually,” she admitted, a hint of embarrassment colouring her cheeks. “But I’ve always had a soft spot for classic cars... especially this one.”

Her date’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, his gaze drifting back to the Impala with newfound appreciation. “I can see why,” he remarked, his voice tinged with admiration. “It’s a beautiful car.”

Dean stepped out of the diner, the familiar sound of the closing door echoing in his ears. His eyes fell upon the Impala and the two people standing around her.

He couldn’t help but smile as he approached, he overheard a man’s voice, commenting on the car’s beauty. “She sure is,” Dean replied without missing a beat, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and affection for his cherished vehicle.

Turning to face the source of the comment, Dean’s gaze fell upon the woman standing nearby his car, looking inside, a flicker of recognition dancing in his eyes as he took in their presence... “Y/N?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in astonishment as she recognised his voice, a rush of memories flooding back at the sight of the familiar face before her. “Dean?” she whispered, disbelief colouring her tone as she took in his rugged features and trademark leather jacket.

Dean’s smile widened at the sound of his name on her lips, a sense of familiarity washing over him at the sight of her. He couldn't help but stare, his gaze lingering on Y/N longer than he intended.

Memories flashed before his eyes, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm him as he took in her appearance, the way her hair fell around her face, the sparkle of recognition in her eyes, her lips as she smiled at him.

Dean's eyes trailed over Y/N's figure. He couldn't deny the rush of desire that surged through him at the sight of her, the memory of her beauty was nothing compared to the real deal.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they stood there, locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes without a single word spoken. Dean felt a rush of nostalgia wash over him.

Y/N couldn't help but notice the change in Dean, the transformation from the young boy she had once known into the handsome man standing before her. His rugged features held a maturity that spoke of the trials and tribulations he had faced, yet his green eyes still held a spark of the boy she remembered.

As Dean's green eyes met hers, Y/N felt a warmth spread through her. For a moment, they stood there, locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes without a single word spoken.

Y/N’s date looked between them, confusion evident in his expression as he realized the connection between Dean and Y/N. “Do you two know each other?” he asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

Dean chuckled, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes as he glanced at Y/N. “You could say that,” he replied cryptically, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he shared a brief glance with Y/N.

“Oh, eh right. Dean meet Alex, Alex this is Dean.” The men shook hands. Dean looked back at you. “Boyfriend?” he asked a little scared. Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the question. "Oh no, no, just a colleague," she replied quickly, almost instinctively.

Relief washed over Dean's face, and Y/N couldn't help but notice the sadness that clouded Alex's expression. Alex's reaction was immediate. She could see the pain flicker across his face, a silent admission of the feelings he had begun to develop for her.

"I... I think I should go," Alex said, his voice barely a whisper as he turned to leave. “Wait a second.” Y/N said walking over to his car.

Y/N's heart sank as she watched him walk away, a pang of regret coursing through her veins. She knew she had hurt him, and for that, she felt an overwhelming sense of guilt.

"Thank you for the evening, Alex," her voice filled with gratitude and sorrow. “it’s just eh... Dean and I we eh...” “Have a history, I can tell.” He finished her sentence. “I see you on Monday, right?” She nodded and looked back at Dean when Alex drove off.

A small silence grew between Dean and Y/N. Staring at each other.

Suddenly, Dean broke the silence. "So, where do you live now?" Y/N hesitated for a moment before replying, "I moved to Kansas." While slowly walking back towards him.

Dean looked at Y/N, his eyes softening with a hint of longing. Not wanting to let her go just yet. "Hey, eh why don't you join us tonight if you have nothing else to do?" he asked, his voice gentle yet insistent.

Y/N hesitated, uncertainty clouding her thoughts. “Us?” she asked “Sam, me, a few other people who we, let’s say co house with.” She was still in doubt. But Dean's words broke through her hesitation. "We could catch up, it has been a while" he suggested, his tone filled with sincerity.

Caught between the pull of the past and the promise of the present, Y/N found herself nodding in agreement. "Okay," she said softly, a sense of anticipation stirring within her.

Dean's face lit up with a genuine smile as he reached for the car door. "Milady," he said, his voice warm with affection and a touch of playfulness.

Y/N couldn't help but return his smile, feeling a sense of familiarity and comfort wash over her at his gesture. With a graceful nod, she stepped into the car, the soft leather seats enveloping her in a sense of nostalgia.

Even the smell was still the same as she remembered.

The ride was quiet part from the soft rock music coming from the radio.

Dean glanced at Y/N seated beside him, a rush of memories flooded his mind, triggered by the faint scent that lingered in the air. It was her scent, a familiar fragrance that brought back a cascade of emotions from their shared past.

The scent carried him back to moments they had spent together and in this car.

He remembered the way her body felt pressed against his, the warmth of her skin igniting a fire within him that he thought had long been extinguished. Their fingers intertwined, their hearts beating in sync as they surrendered to the passion that had consumed them that night.

He recalled the soft sighs that escaped her lips, the gentle curve of her neck as he leaned in to kiss her, and the way her breath caught in her throat as their lips met in a fervent embrace.

Y/N's voice gently pulled Dean out of his memory. "What's on your mind?" she asked. Dean hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to put his thoughts into words. But then, with a sigh, he decided to be partly honest with her. "It's just... it's no longer just me and my brother," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

He watched as Y/N's expression softened. "What do you mean?" “The bunker is filled with people, new people, hunters, allies, friends... it's complicated,"

Dean explained a little what happened while parking the car in the garage. Before walking back into the chaos.

Dean walked Y/N out of the garage, his steps slow and deliberate as he led her towards the entrance of the bunker. As they approached the entrance, Dean took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come.

He pushed open the heavy door, revealing the bustling activity of the bunker beyond. Hunters and friends, their voices echoing off the walls. Spotting Sam across the room, Dean raised his voice to be heard over the din. "Hey, you remember Y/N, right?" he said, drawing the attention of those around him.

As the chatter died down, all eyes turned to Dean and Y/N, curiosity evident in their expressions. Dean took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking.

"I want to introduce you all to someone," he began, gesturing towards Y/N beside him. "This is Y/N. She is... eh, a friend."

A murmur of surprise rippled through the crowd, and Dean couldn't help but notice the look of shock on Mary’s face as their eyes met across the room.

As Sam approached Y/N, a warm smile spread across his face, genuine pleasure evident in his eyes. "Y/N, it's so good to see you again," he greeted her, his voice filled with sincerity.

Y/N returned his smile, feeling a sense of warmth wash over her at his genuine welcome. "It's good to see you too, Sam," she replied, her voice tinged with gratitude.

As they caught up, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly she fell back into conversation with Sam and the other people here.

Meanwhile, Dean watched from the sidelines, a pang of loneliness tugging at his heart as he observed how well Y/N seemed to fit in with everyone else. He couldn't deny the twinge of jealousy that crept into his mind as he watched her laughing and chatting with the others.

Y/N couldn't ignore the sight of Dean sitting alone in the corner, nursing a beer as he watched the people around him. Sensing his solitude, she made her way over to him, determined to offer him some company.

"Hey," she said softly as she approached, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "Mind if I join you?" Dean looked up, surprised to see her standing there. A faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You, never, go ahead."

Y/N settled herself beside him, the warmth of her presence a comforting contrast to the coolness of the room.

Mary nodded to Sam while she spotted them, “Who is she?” Sam smiled softly “Y/N, we met her during a hunt. It was so long ago I don’t remember when, must have been at least 10 years.”

“Dean seems to like her enough to bring her home.” Mary noticed. “I know he was torn when he had to leave her. It took me while to realise it wasn’t the Djinn that affected him, he never talked about her but later I realised it was leaving her that upset him.”

Mary looked at her youngest boy, Sam could read the question in her eyes. “I said he had to contact her, start a life with her if he wanted, but he claimed it was nothing like that.” Sam nodded towards his brother.

“Seeing him like this, makes me realise he wasn’t honest to himself.”

"It's a bit hectic out there, huh?" she remarked, gesturing to the bustling crowd.

Dean nodded, taking a sip of his beer. "Yeah, it's a bit much for me sometimes," Y/N studied him for a moment, noting the weariness etched into his features.

She took his beer out of his hands putting it on the table behind them. "Why don't we go sit somewhere quieter?" she suggested, her tone gentle yet earnest. "Just the two of us."

"Yeah, I'd like that,"

As Dean led Y/N to his room, his quiet sanctuary away from the bustling activity of the bunker, he couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness creeping over him.

Y/N settled onto his bed, leaning against the bedframe with a relaxed ease that contrasted sharply with Dean's own awkwardness. He stood by the doorway, unsure of what to do with himself now that they were alone together.

Y/N looked up at him, a gentle smile playing on her lips, tapping the bed. "You can sit down, you know, I won’t bite." she offered, patting the space beside her on the bed.

As Dean settled onto the bed beside Y/N, the floodgates of conversation opened, and he found himself pouring out everything that had happened to him over the past ten years.

He spoke of the battles fought, the losses endured, and the moments of triumph that had shaped him into the person he was today. How he met Cas and Jack. How his mom was back.

Y/N listened intently, her eyes locked on his as he recounted his journey, her expression a mixture of empathy and understanding. To his surprise she took everything in very quiet.

“Dean?” he looked up at her. “Be honest with me please. Why don’t you like being around these people? What holds you back to make friends?” she asked him.

So typical he though, she hasn’t seen me in years and sees right through me.

Dean got up, his movements around the room became restless, his hands fidgeting with objects as he avoided Y/N's gaze. Her question hung heavy in the air, stirring up emotions he had long tried to bury.

"It's not that I don't like being around them," Dean began, his voice low and hesitant. "It's just... complicated."

He paused, struggling to find the right words to express the turmoil swirling inside him. How could he explain the weight of responsibility that rested on his shoulders, the constant fear of failure, the overwhelming sense of duty that consumed him?

"They depend on Sam and me," he continued, his voice tinged with frustration. "And sometimes, I feel like I'm drowning under the weight of it all. Like I'm not allowed to just... be."

"I get it," she said softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his arm. "But you can't have Sammy carry that weight alone.” She got up and held his hand. “And you can always come to me if you need.”

"Thank you," he said softly, in the quiet intimacy of the room, Dean's gratitude lingered in the air between them like a tangible presence.

“You know,” she started “I always hoped you would knock on my door again.” As their eyes locked, a mix of emotions danced in the depths of their gaze, unspoken words swirling in the space between them.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I-I was protecting you. You don’t deserve a life like this.”

In Y/N's eyes, Dean saw understanding, compassion, and a flicker of something deeper, a connection that transcended mere words. He felt a sense of warmth spreading through him, a feeling of acceptance and belonging that he had longed for more than he cared to admit.

Y/N saw vulnerability, strength, and a glimmer of hope shining through the layers of his guarded exterior. She felt a surge of affection welling up inside her, a desire to offer him comfort and solace in the midst of his inner turmoil.

“But what if I want to?” She looked at his lips while his hand moved to the back of her neck.

As they closed the space between them ever so slowly, the air crackled with anticipation, a silent invitation passing between them. Their lips met in a tender embrace, a shared moment of vulnerability.

The sensation was electric, sending shivers down his spine as he pulled Y/N closer, his hands finding her hips and drawing her in with a gentle urgency.

Y/N's touch on his chest ignited a fire within him, her fingers tracing the contours of his body with a delicate touch that sent waves of pleasure coursing through him.

He could feel his heart racing beneath her touch, his pulse quickening with each passing moment as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the kiss.

In that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of them, their bodies pressed together, a soft moan escaped Y/N's lips, sending a jolt of desire coursing through Dean's veins. It was as if the sound was a silent invitation, a cue that activated a primal instinct within him.

Feeling her response, Dean's hands moved with purpose, one sliding up to cradle the back of her neck again, while the other traced the curves of her body.

With a gentle yet firm touch, he guided her back, pressing her against the wall with a sense of urgency that matched the pounding of his heart.

Y/N responded eagerly, her hands moving to grasp his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer. her skin tingling with anticipation as she surrendered to the heat coming from Dean’s body.

Their breaths mingled in the air between them, hot and heavy. Dean looks at her, making sure he wasn’t crossing any lines.

And as their lips met once more in a heated embrace, Dean couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration wash over him. A primal need to possess and be possessed, to lose himself in the intoxicating bliss of their shared passion.

"I missed you," he murmured, his voice husky with emotion. "More than I ever thought possible. I've thought about you every day, wondered where you were, what you were doing..."

His words trailed off as he pressed his forehead against hers, the intensity of his gaze locking with hers as if searching for reassurance in the depths of her eyes.

"I never stopped thinking about you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You've always been on my mind, even when I tried to push you away. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing, that you were missing."

Y/N's touch was gentle as she cupped Dean's face, her fingertips tracing the contours of his jawline with a tenderness that spoke volumes of her emotions.

"I felt the same way," she confessed, her voice soft yet filled with conviction. "I regretted letting you walk out that day. It felt like I had lost a part of myself, like I was making the biggest mistake of my life."

Dean's heart ached at her confession, "And you know," Y/N continued, her voice trembling slightly with emotion, "the only time I felt truly happy was in our dream. It was like a glimpse of what could have been, like a....”

“A reminder of the life we could have had together." Dean continued her sentence. She nodded. Feeling the weight of his emotions pressing in on him, Dean closed the space between them, his heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability.

His hand gently brushed against Y/N's cheek, his touch tender yet filled with urgency.

"Maybe I'm being too forward," he began, his voice raw with emotion, "but I want you to stay with me tonight. I need to feel your body close to me, to know that you're here with me."

He knew he was laying his heart bare, exposing himself in a way he hadn't done in a long time. But in that moment, all he could think about was the overwhelming need to hold Y/N in his arms, to feel her warmth against him and know that she was real.

Y/N's eyes searched his, her gaze filled with tenderness and understanding. She reached out to take his hand in hers, her touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through him.

"I want that too," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "I want to be with you, Dean. To feel your arms around me and know that I'm home."

A mischievous glint sparkled in Dean's eyes as he flirted with Y/N, his heart racing with the thrill of anticipation. He settled down on the bed behind him. "Home, huh?" he teased, his voice laced with need.

"Why don't you come over here and I'll give you the warmest welcome you've ever had."

Dean's heart skipped a beat when he noticed her confidence as she climbed onto his lap, her body inches away from his as she leaned in close. "Is that a promise?" she whispered, her voice husky with desire.

Dean's grin widened, his hands reaching out to pull her closer until their bodies were pressed together. His hands guiding her to grind against his hips. "You bet it is," he replied, his voice low and smouldering with passion.

Their lips melted together in another breath-taking kiss, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the electric current of desire pulsating between them.

Dean's hands roamed Y/N's body, tracing the curves of her form with a hunger he hadn’t felt in forever.

Y/N responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in Dean's hair as she deepened the kiss, her breath mingling with his in a symphony of passion. With a soft moan, Dean rolled over, laying her beneath him, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

His hand moved under her shirt, Y/N gasped at the sensation, her heart racing with the intensity of their connection. His hands roamer her breasts, kneading while his lips nip at her neck.

Clothes became obstacles, hastily discarded in their eagerness to feel each other's skin against their own.

Y/N's soft moans filled the air, Dean felt a surge of primal desire wash over him, his own breath hitching in response. Loving how she said his name.

The sound was like music to his ears, igniting a fire within him that burned hotter with each passing moment.

"God, you sound so beautiful," he murmured against her skin, his voice husky with desire. "I could listen to you all night." Y/N's moans grew louder, more urgent, as Dean's hands explored every inch of her body with a reverence that bordered on worship. Each touch sent sparks flying.

“I need to feel you.” he murmured against her neck.

Their breath mingled in the quiet of the night, the heat of their passion igniting a fire that burned hot between them.

Dean's fingers traced lazy patterns along Y/N's skin, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through her body. With each touch, she felt herself melting into him, her desire building with every caress.

Feeling the undeniable heat radiating from Y/N's core, Dean couldn't resist the urge to explore further. His hand trailed down her body, his fingers dancing lightly over her hips before slipping between her thighs.

Y/N gasped as Dean's touch sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her, her body arching instinctively towards him. With a soft groan, Dean pressed his hard length against her folds, teasing her with the promise of ecstasy.

"God, you feel so good," Dean whispered, his voice husky with desire as he rubbed himself against her, his movements sending waves of pleasure crashing over her.

Y/N moaned in response, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she surrendered herself to the delicious friction. "You want this, don't you?" Dean murmured, his voice dripping with desire as he teased her mercilessly, his words stoking the flames of her arousal.

Y/N could only nod in response, her body trembling with anticipation as she surrendered herself completely to the ecstasy of their shared desire. ”Y-yes, please Dean. Please.”

With a low growl of satisfaction, Dean plunged himself deep inside her, the sensation of their bodies joining sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through them both.

Y/N couldn't help but curse under her breath as she felt the fullness of Dean inside her, his size stretching her in the most delicious way. She clenched around him, her body instinctively responding to him.

Dean groaned at the sensation, his muscles on his back tensing, while he placed his face in her neck. He leaned into her touch, flexing beneath her hand as she caressed the tense muscles.

"Fuck, Y/N," Dean breathed, his voice rough with desire as he buried himself deeper inside her.

Dean's movements slowed, each thrust deliberate and purposeful, the sensation of being one with Y/N was better than he had ever hoped for. With each deep, deliberate movement, he ensured she felt every inch of him, his body moving in perfect harmony with hers.

Earning every moan or sigh.

Y/N's breath hitched as she felt Dean's slow and steady pace, her body responding eagerly to his every touch. "God, Dean," Y/N gasped, her voice husky with desire as she met his gaze with a hunger that matched his own. "You feel so good inside me."

Dean groaned in response "Fuck, Y/N," Dean whispered, his voice rough with desire "Oh, sweetheart," he breathed, his voice rough with need. "Tell me what you want."

Y/N grinned, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "I want you to fuck me senseless, Dean. I want to feel every inch of you inside me, driving me wild with pleasure."

"God, Y/N," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "That’s so fucking hot."

Y/N chuckled softly, the sound sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through Dean's veins. "You haven't seen anything yet, baby," she teased, her voice dripping with promise as she trailed kisses along his jawline.

Dean's heart pounded in his chest as he felt himself growing harder with each passing moment. "Then show me, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "Show me everything you've got."

With a playful smile, Y/N shifted her position, straddling Dean's hips as she positioned herself above him.

Dean's breath caught in his throat as he watched her with hungry eyes, his hands reaching out to grasp her hips as she lowered herself onto him. With a slow, deliberate movement, she sank down onto his cock.

Y/N moaned softly as she began to move, her hips rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm as she rode him with a skill that left him breathless. With each thrust, each movement, she felt herself spiralling closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy, her mind consumed with the overwhelming need for release.

Dean groaned beneath her, his hands gripping her hips. Feeling Y/N tightening around him, Dean knew she was on the brink of orgasm, and he wanted nothing more than to join her in the ecstasy of release.

With a primal growl, he guided her movements, urging her to ride him harder, faster, as he whispered words of encouragement in her ear. "That's it, sweetheart," Dean groaned, his voice thick with desire. "Ride me harder sweetheart. I want to feel you come apart around me."

Y/N's moans filled the room as she surrendered herself completely to the pleasure coursing through her body, her movements becoming more urgent as she chased the elusive peak of ecstasy.

Dean's hands roamed over her body, his touch igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. "You're so fucking sexy," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "I want to come with you, sweetheart. I want to feel you come apart in my arms."

Y/N's breath hitched as she felt herself teetering on the edge, her body trembling with anticipation as she rode him harder, faster, her movements driving him to the brink of madness.

As Dean felt Y/N's body tighten around him in the throes of her orgasm, he couldn't hold back any longer. With a primal growl, he thrust up into her. He buried himself deep inside her, becoming more urgent as he surrendered himself completely to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his veins.

He sits up wrapping his arms around her as he feels his own release. Y/N cried out as she felt him release inside her, her body trembling with the intensity of their shared climax. She collapsed against him, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she rode out the waves of pleasure crashing over her.

His arms still wrapped around her as they clung to each other in the aftermath of their passion. Their bodies pressed close, they shared heavy breaths, their hearts pounding in sync.

Dean's voice was husky with desire as he whispered in Y/N's ear, his breath warm against her skin. "God, that, you, were better than I remembered," he admitted. Y/N's heart swelled with warmth at his words, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she leaned into him.

"You're not so bad yourself, Winchester," she teased, her voice filled with affection and adoration.

Dean chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest as he held her close. "I guess we make a pretty good team," he mused, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her back.

Dean's touch was gentle as he caressed Y/N's thighs and hips, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin as they lay together in the quiet of the room. But as Y/N voiced her worries about someone hearing them, Dean's expression turned possessive, a fierce glint in his eyes.

"Let them hear," Dean growled softly, his voice low and filled with determination. "Let them know that you're mine."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat at his words, a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins as she met his gaze. "Yours?"

She had never seen this side of Dean before, and the intensity of his possessiveness sent a shiver of desire down her spine.

Dean's voice was tinged with uncertainty as he spoke. "At least if you want to be my girl," he murmured, his words filled with vulnerability as he laid bare his fears.

Her fingers reaching out to gently brush against his cheek. "Dean," she whispered softly, her gaze filled with tenderness and affection. "I don't want just one night with you. I want every night. I want forever."

"You do?" he asked, Y/N nodded, her eyes shining with sincerity. "I do," she affirmed, her voice filled with conviction. "I want to be yours, Dean. Completely, utterly your"

A relieved smile spread across Dean's face as he pulled her closer into his arms, holding her so close as if he never wanted to let her go. "Then you're mine," he whispered, his voice filled with certainty. "Forever and always."

They lay together, wrapped in each other's arms, almost falling asleep. Y/N’s phone rings: Foreigner I've been waiting for girl liek you, started to play.

Dean looks at Y/N, they stare at each other for a second before they started laughing.

Knowing this was a sign.

-----------

Song lyrics : Foreigner - Waiting for a girl like you

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