#i was having a good day then BAM . ‘hey sam has to spend the night thinking he’ll never see Five and his child and his friends again

[drowsystarlight]

Zombie lunch box

#zombies run #zrs4 spoilers #sam yao #neeks draws #zombies run fanart #me playing that fucking mission expecting something upbeat and happy bc its named Runaway Baby by Bruno Mars #only to be met by . by THAT . like #the fuck was i supposed to do #die?? #my five wouldve flipped that building upside down to get him out #i was having a good day then BAM . ‘hey sam has to spend the night thinking he’ll never see Five and his child and his friends again

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 3997 Warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of death/loss

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira​​​ Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 1 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

A soft knock at pulls you away from the computer. Twisting your stiff head towards the door you smile, seeing Steve Rogers standing with a tray of coffee and a paper bag in hand marked with the logo of your favorite nearby restaurant.

“You’re a lifesaver!” you chuckled, though you meant every word as you invited Steve to sit at your desk for lunch.

Steve worked security for Stark Industries and you developed a close friendship in the years since you’ve been there. Though he was undeniably good looking, with the build of a Greek God and long lashes you were incredibly jealous of, you never saw Steve as anything other than the brother you never had.

At the time you met he was dating a girl from the building, Lillian Nguyen from accounting. You hadn’t seen much of her in person, just through the photos Steve showed you with adoration on his phone. When he began talking about looking for engagement rings you were thrilled but that excitement was replaced with anger and confusion when Steve found out Lillian was cheating on him.

He was extremely hurt and became guarded afterwards, not wanting to put himself out there again. His lack of socializing worked with your lack of a social life and on the rare occasion you had a moment free from school work Steve would often come over and hang out to binge watch shows you needed to catch up to on Netflix while you ate pizza.

The paper bag rustled as he pulled out a large sandwich, cup of soup and a salad, distributing napkins across the desk as he knows how much of a messy eater you can be. You grabbed the sandwich, tearing open the paper wrapping and sinking your teeth into it with a bite full of food too large for your mouth.

Steve laughed, as he stirred the broth of his soup. He’s witnessed you eating before, unapologetically shoveling food into your face especially when you were starving.

“You know the sandwich isn’t goin’ anywhere, right?” he joked.

Chewing a large mouthful, you grabbed a napkin to wipe the corner of your lips that you felt had a piece of food sticking to it.

“Steve,” you paused to take a sip of coffee, “I’m fucking starving. I ran out this morning and all I had here was a package of almonds that are not filling despite what you say.”

He asked the reason for your tardiness and you explained how you stayed at the cafe until closing to finish up your work, all because of your stupid neighbor.

“Have you tried talkin’ to him?”

You stared at Steve incredulously. “Haven’t gotten a chance. I gotta wait for the right moment. There’s no way I’m knocking on his door, not when he’s banging all of New York, who knows what I’d end up seeing.”

“D’ya want me to do it?”

It was in Steve’s nature to help and though you appreciated his offer you wanted to handle this yourself. You were the one that had to live next to the Music Man, it would be better to confront him alone.

“I understand,” he said, taking a swig from his water bottle. “You down to hang tonight?”

“Wish I could but before my time is sucked away by the next paper I really need to research where I could do my internship. I’m all registered for school but I need to submit the paperwork for where I’ll be doing my hours and I’m running out of time.”

“You should talk to my buddy Sam. Maybe he could get you in at the hospital.”

Sam was Steve’s friend from the gym. They’d work out together, turning everything into a friendly competition to see who could run faster or lift more. Sam was also a doctor in the emergency department of Metro-General so he might have connections. It was worth a shot so you asked Steve to text him. Still you planned on searching for more backups to be safe.

Before the hour was over Steve left to head back downstairs to the security desk and you continued your work for Ms. Hill. You had evolved to working closer with Ms. Hill, becoming more like an executive assistant to her and when necessary Ms. Potts.

In between coordinating a meeting your phone goes off with a text from Wanda, asking if she could see you over the weekend for brunch. Ironically, she ended up moving to the city after all. There was only so far she could go with her degree at home and with her mother’s blessing she came to New York to work for The Jewish Museum.

She lived in a trendy loft on Bleecker Street, decorated with her signature eclectic style. Woven rugs hung like tapestries on the wall, plants hanging down from macramé holders in front of the large windows. Her furniture was an odd mix of plush velvet tufted cushions and smooth leather arm chairs that somehow worked with the mid-century touches and industrial shelving.

Her apartment had more space which you envied, although you loved everything else about where you lived. The neighborhood was amazing, with great shops and a lot of different food options right at your doorstep. Everything was perfect, except your neighbor.

Responding to Wanda you let her know you could most likely make it depending on the workload you’d be getting from your Saturday class. You could not wait until that was over. Spending all day in a small, windowless room instead of enjoying the summer weekend made you miserable but you were close to the end, so, so close.

When the work day was over you went to meet Steve downstairs, walking over to the desk to say goodnight to the elderly security guard who’s been with the company since its inception.

“Any plans for the weekend Mr. Lee?”

The wiry white hairs that made up his mustache moved as he grinned. “Well, Joanie thinks my hair’s getting a bit long,” he smiled, running his fingers through his greyish-white strands. “She’ll have it trimmed before supper, I'm sure,” he laughed.

A smile graced your face whenever you listened to Mr. Lee, admiring the adoration he had for his wife. Steve has heard all of his stories more than once but he never tires of them either. Everyone loved Mr. Lee, especially Tony Stark, who continued to pay him a full time salary for the part time hours he worked.

The job was easy enough as he greeted visitors to Stark Industries, and signing them in to the building while Steve and some other employees did most of the security checks.

You and Steve bid Mr. Lee goodbye as you made your way to the subway. Steve didn’t live far from you and though he could have gotten off at a further stop he always walked with you to your building, partially to make sure you got home safely but also because he needed a distraction to get out of his head.

There were many times when you suggested he go out, not with the purpose of meeting someone but just to break up the monotony of his routine, but Steve lost his confidence after the breakup. For now, he didn’t want to be told what to do, he simply needed a friend and so you were there for him.

Wanda sat back against the chair beside the bistro table covered in shade. Her always changing hair color was light brown today, parting the silky strands perfectly down the middle. She was the definition of cool, despite the heat, wearing a loose scoop-necked tank top, slim ripped jeans and topped things off with a pair of motorcycle boots. Her neck was adorned with a few necklaces of varying lengths, one of which she never took off, a silver lightning bolt in honor of her late brother.

She and Pietro were twins with distinctly different personalities. Wanda was laid back, even as a child. She would actually stop to smell the roses that lined the garden of their backyard, whereas Pietro was always moving. He was an extraordinary multitasker that could not sit still.

Pietro had so many dreams, a full list of things he wanted to do in life but he was taken from the world too soon. Wanda wears the necklace as a reminder to live life to the fullest, knowing how quickly things can change.

Squeezing through the other tables to get to Wanda, you huff as you sit down and catch your breath, apologizing for being late.

“Wanda, I swear I’m going to kill him.”

“Who?”

“The fucking Music Man! I had to leave my own damn apartment again because of his stupid playing. Like, dude, could you not? You live in an apartment. Everyone hears you, everyone!”

Grabbing the glass of ice water you quickly drink most of it to soothe the dehydration of your mouth.

“And another thing, like does he not realize that we can all hear the girls he’s banging? Wanda, they’re so fucking loud. If they were still there right now I bet you could hear them from here.”

Wanda laughed at your accusation. “Oh, so they don’t stay the night? He’s a ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ kinda guy?”

“I guess! I hear them leave, whining at his door as they’re begging to stay over. It’s so pathetic. What’s so great about this guy anyway?” you scoffed. “I wish he never moved here!”  

With a final humph you opened the menu, your anger dissipating as you read the descriptions for everything you wanted, mouth salivating as you tried to decide what to choose. Wanda opted for the frittata while you decided to take out your frustrations on yourself with delicious Challah French Toast.

Wanda’s eyes widened as she watched you drown your meal in syrup. You hummed in satisfaction as you took a bite.

“Hmm, it’s not as good as the kind your mom makes,” you said.

Wanda laughed, “Uh, yeah, because she never used a whole bottle of syrup. Geez Y/N can you taste anything other than sugar?”

“Shush Wan, let me enjoy myself here.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at you. “Well, anyway, I wanted to tell you something exciting...” she sang, grinning widely. “Director Coulson asked me to curate an exhibit on prejudice told through Romani-Jewish art!”

“Wanda this is perfect! I’m so happy for you!” you beamed, getting up from your chair to wrap your arms around her in a proud hug.

“I know! I’m so excited. Mom’s gonna come up for the opening. I mean that’s a long time from now but fuck, I can’t wait!”

After finishing brunch you went back home to begin working on your final. It was a research paper that was worth half of your grade so you really needed to concentrate. And yet the moment the elevator doors opened to your floor you heard it, the sound of music flooding the halls coming from none other than the apartment next to yours.

Jamming your keys into the door with frustration you grunted, grabbing all the things you needed to do your work at the cafe. Your foot tapped impatiently as you waited for the elevator again. With your arms crossed over your chest you could feel your blood boiling beneath your skin, beating to the stupid rhythm of the stupid song that your stupid, inconsiderate neighbor wouldn’t stop playing.

The elevator dinged before the doors opened and you were like a bull, grunting and blowing puffs of air from your flaring nostrils as you were ready to charge into it. As the doors opened you stopped yourself from barreling into your neighbors that were inside.

“Whoa, Y/N!” Clint said, raising his hands up defensively, “Easy there.”

Clint lived on the floor above you along with his fiancée Natasha, whose arms were looped through his.

“Sorry guys,” you apologized. “Oh, wait.” Making your right hand into a fist you ran it across your chest in a few circular motions.

“Someone’s been practicing,” Natasha chimed in, signing her words along as she spoke to you.

Clint was partially deaf and though he used hearing aids he often signed, especially when he didn’t feel like talking to people, although you were one of the lucky ones he considered a friend. Still, you wanted to be able to communicate with him, even if he didn’t want to actually speak.

Clint was a history teacher who already tried to get you into his school for your internship but doubted you would be brought on board. There were apparently a lot of issues going on with the principal and Natasha surmised there was a big lawsuit in the works.

Natasha was an attorney, hoping to make partner at her current firm Nelson & Murdock. Clint never failed to praise her, nicknaming Natasha the Black Widow as he claimed watching her dismantle a witness was like watching a spider sink its venomous fangs into its prey.

“Where’re you guys off to?” you asked.

“Just going out for some ice cream,” she replied.

Clint laughed. “Some ice cream? No, I’m going out to eat a lot of ice cream,” he chuckled, rubbing his eager stomach.

Natasha poked the small protrusion of his belly through his shirt. “Listen buddy, we’ve got a wedding to plan. Easy on the ice cream.” Natasha brought her full lips to his for a kiss they both smiled through, knowing she was teasing him.

“What about you Y/N?” Clint asked.

The elevator doors opened and you walked out with them, explaining how frustrating it’s been that you’ve had to leave for the cafe to do your work all because of the new neighbor.

“Oh the Guitar Hero?” Clint joked. “Yeah, we can hear him too. Well, actually…” he drifted off smirking.

“Clint takes his hearing aids out so no, he doesn’t hear him,” Natasha filled in the information that had you bursting out with laughter.

“Can you hear the women too?” you wondered, considering their apartment was right above his.

“Yeah, kind of, that’s more muffled though. It’s probably a lot worse for you.” Natasha grimaced, catching the way she didn’t mean the words to come out.

It was true though, sharing a wall with the man that made your string lights bounce with every thrust. The sound was bad enough and thankfully your headphones helped with that but every night you had to shut your eyes, hoping you would fall asleep before he was through with them.

You had to give it to the guy though, the man had stamina. Still, you wanted to kill him. At least you were friends with a lawyer...

The next few days have the same result, with you coming home dead tired from work, hoping you’d be able to stay home to work on your final to no avail. You tried using the headphones in your apartment but it didn’t help. The sound was mostly blocked out but your mind couldn’t focus on anything but the anger you held towards the neighbor, knowing he was playing that same song over and over again.

You might as well live in the cafe since you’ve practically paid them your rent in coffee and pastries over the last month. You were burning out quickly and Steve decided you needed a break, bringing over pizza and beer.

Opening up the box, you smiled, staring at the bubbling cheese.

“Ahh, pizza, my one true love,” you said, plating slices for you and Steve.

Your small table was always covered in textbooks, mail and other paperwork you needed to tend to, so you and Steve took your usual spots on the couch.

After working at Stark Industries for a few months you made enough money that allowed you to finally buy much needed furniture. You adored your light grey couch, adorned with blush colored throw pillows. You threw the fuzzy white blanket over the side of the couch, not serving much purpose during the summer months other than to look like it was naturally left on the cushion in a perfectly styled manner for display.

Pushing aside the candlesticks that sat on your coffee table, you set down actual coasters for the bottles Steve opened, not wanting to ruin the veneer of the grey wood top of your rustic coffee table. A small accent rug helped define the space you declared as the living room, despite having your bed within arm’s reach beside you.

Against the brick wall is your TV, sitting atop a modern white stand with shelves for storage you’ve packed to the brim. Beside it, a large antique floor mirror leans against the brick. It was as tall as Steve who helped bring it to your apartment after you found it at a flea market. However, the thing you cherished most was the artwork of the Brooklyn Bridge that hung above your couch, painted by Steve as a gift to you.

“So,” he said, chewing quickly to swallow the food in his mouth. “I talked to Sam. He said it would be cool for you to call him about the internship.”

“Oh yeah. You really think he could help or is this just a rouse to give him my number?” you half-joked.

Steve laughed deeply, wiping away a bit of oil the pizza leaked onto his chin. “Nah, it’s definitely about the internship but I wouldn’t put it past Sam if he tried to take you out. Lord knows he’s been on my case about it with you since I met ‘im.”

“Does he not think guys and girls can have a friendship without romance involved?”

“I can’t speak for him… probably not though.”

You laughed before getting up for another slice. You hoped Sam would be able to help with the internship, no strings attached. He didn’t seem like that type of guy anyway, and all of Steve’s friends were good people so you weren’t worried.

As the Music Man began his one man band you had to gradually increase the volume of your television; your anger rising with every click of the remote. It was no longer enjoyable to watch the action movie you and Steve put on, having to raise the volume for higher to hear the dialogue and scramble to lower the blasting noise of car screeching and explosions. When you couldn’t take it anymore you called it a night.

“Guess you haven’t spoken to him?” Steve asked the question he clearly knew the answer to.

“Soon,” you said hopefully, not knowing when the day might come.

As the sun began to rise on the early Saturday morning you were getting ready for class. With your closet open you debated on what to wear when you heard a voice from the other side of the wall.

“Hi ma… Things are good… and Dad…”

He must have been walking around the apartment as you heard most of the words.

“I know…Leaving now…”

You heard the undoing of his locks and the front door creaking open. Shit! Your first moment to speak to the Music Man alone and you’re standing in your underwear. There’s definitely no way you would approach him now. Instead you raced to the door to try and catch a glimpse of what he looked like but it was too late.

Huffing in frustration you continued to get dressed and within fifteen minutes you were ready to leave. The elevator dinged as you shut your door, inserting your key to turn the deadbolt, unaware of the form that was moving closer towards you, not until you heard the whistling of a familiar tune.

Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, as if that tune was part of a psychological experiment, like Pavlov’s dog but instead of salivating you wanted to punch something.

“Hey neighbor.”

The soft voice of the Music Man broke you from your vision of punching through your shared wall and destroying his instruments. With a calming inhale you turned around to face him.

“I’m Bucky.”

You didn’t respond, you couldn’t. The breath was stolen from your lungs as you stared directly into the kindest, bluest eyes you had ever seen. All the anger left your body, replaced by the softness of his pink lips that reminded you of flowers in full bloom.

He was tall and lean, but your eyes did not miss the bulge of his biceps that showed through his cotton t-shirt. In his hand was a coffee cup, gripped under his long fingers. His hair was dark and pulled back into a low sloppy bun, with a loose piece falling beside his smile.

His hand was extended towards you and you weren’t sure how long it had been. It felt like you were staring at him for hours, or was it only seconds. Did time really stop moving the moment you finally saw him? You broke yourself out of your trance to shake his hand and introduce yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you Y/N. I just moved in. Well not just, but not long ago,” Bucky said.

Yeah I know. I hear you every night. You remembered your frustration and tried to assemble the sentence in your head of how to confront him.

“You ever get coffee from the place on the corner?” he asked, gesturing to the cup in his hand. “The line was crazy long but worth it, it’s delicious.”

“Yeah, once or twice but I’m usually at the Grind House. They’re open late and that’s where I have to go to study because… uh…” you stammered for a moment, “...your guitar playing is too distracting.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, wondering why you felt uncomfortable when he was the one who was being a bad neighbor.

Bucky’s face dropped with guilt. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

“It’s alright,” you lied, not knowing why you said that. Pulling more confidence out of midair you continued, “It’s just that the walls are so thin and I’m in school, well I work full time too, but I’ve just got a lot on my plate and honestly I’m not sure how much longer I can afford the coffee shop every night.”

You chuckled to lighten up the conversation, continuing to ramble before giving him a chance to speak. “So, um, if you wouldn’t mind, maybe you could practice during the day instead or weekends are mostly fine. I’m actually heading to class now so I’ll be gone all day.” Great, give him your whole schedule why don’t you.

With nerves getting the better of you, you turned on your heel quickly saying it was nice to meet him. Briskly making your way towards the elevator you pressed the button furiously in hopes it would get to your floor faster.

Once inside you let out a big sigh and waved your hand in front of your slightly sweaty, heated face. Bucky seemed like he genuinely wasn’t aware of the noise he was making, and the way you passive aggressively called him out on it made you feel like shit.

But what was worse was knowing there was a face, a drop dead gorgeous face that is responsible for making the women of New York scream in ecstasy every night. It was going to be very difficult to concentrate in class today.

Getting home later that afternoon you were anxious to make something to eat, but more anxious about Bucky, hoping you wouldn’t run into him again. As you opened your door your foot slid on something and as you looked down you saw a small envelope with your name written on it.

Inside was a $50 gift card to The Grind House with a little note. I’m truly sorry about the noise. –Bucky

Your mouth opened in shock at the realization that Bucky did this nice gesture for you, and worse, you were going to have to thank him.

PART 3

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes series

[shortie-babe]

Beg.

(tsukishima x f!reader) Warning: degrading, jealousy, spanking, brat-taming (kinda?), sir/daddy kink ——————————————————————————

Your boyfriend tsukishima has been ignoring you all day and honestly you were getting sick of it. Sooo~~. You went to meet him after practice and of course he was ignoring you still.

Then you start ignoring him too. And run up to Hinata and hug him you two were also pretty close basically best friends! “ aww hinata you’re so cute! I saw a little bit of your practice and you are so amazing!” you say with sparkles in your eyes. “i know! I was like wham! Then bam!” he says with a slight blush. “Don’t forget kabam Hinata!” “oh yeah! That too!” you both start talking with sparkles in your eyes.

Of course kagayama and everyone is confused but just ignores it except for tsuki it is clearly irritated. And that brings you pride. ‘He wants to ignore me fine. But im gonna make it hell for him’ you think your self. You have a mischievous smile and eyes. And tsuki can clearly see it.

You grab hinata's hands and poor boy blushes. You find it cute. You’ve always found hinata cute but you’d never date him. You saw him like a little brother. “ hinata, you should come over to my

house and spend the night!” hinata blushes at that and tsuki is surprised and really angry. “We would practice volleyball or watch it ive recorded all of the little giants games for you hinata! We could even sleep in the sam-” you were gonna finish your sentence but you got pulled by your collar and dragged away.

“ hey! I wanna hang out with hinata!” you say with an angry tone.

“shut your mouth (y/n).” you gulp at your boyfriends angered infested voice.

Hinata waves at you with a concerned face. You wave back at him and whisper “ im still down for that sleep over” you say with a wink. Hinata blushes slightly and grins.

Tsuki drags you to your house. Of course you were complaining on the way. He drags you to your room. Then pins you to the wall. “T-tsuki?!” you say confused

“don’t act like you dont know what you did wrong.” tsuki says growling at the end of it. You felt your arousal spike up “i dont know what youre talking about kai. I was just talking to my friend hinata.” you say putting your hands on his chest trying to push him away.

“ oh, were you now slut. Because to me it looked like you were trying to get in his pants.” he says whispering in your ear. “ i was not tsuki-” he puts his knee right under your pussy and you yelp at the sudden motion on your tiptoes.

“ if you wanna be a brat fine. I’ll treat you like a brat.” he starts moving his knee earning a small moan from you.

“T-tsuki-” he grabs your hair and pulls your face towards him “ sluts don’t get to say my name.” you can feel your juices drip out of you. Making a wet spot on his jeans. “ you're soaking wet, slut.” you whimper turning your head away from him blushing to much not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“ what do you want slut?” he says teasingly “t-tsuki.” you say pouting.

You suddenly hear a smack on your ass you scream out in pain. “ thats not what you call me. Slut.”

…

You ignore him.

Then bam! Another smack to your ass harder then the previous one. You yelp out in pleaser and pain. “ say my name.” hey says growling. You shake your head not giving in.

Boom another smack this time way WAY harder. You scream out louder then the last time. Moving his knee on your folds and rubbing were he hit your ass to sooth the pain.

“ i’m not gonna ask again. Be a good little slut and say my name. Who knows maybe ill give you what you want.” he chuckles at the end. All you wanted was to feel him inside you. To stretch you out. “ s-sir..p-please..” you say while looking up at him.

“Beg.” he says with a sadistic tone in his voice.

———————————————————

(Hello it’s me here! Hope you liked reading but I just want you guys to know that requests are open. I’ll do any anime. I might need to watch the anime first I mean it gives me another reason to watch anime uwu. I will also answer questions! Or if you just wanna say anything random! Have a good day/afternoon/night❤️)

#haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu!! #haikyuu!! fanfiction #tsukishima x reader smut #haikyuu!! tsukishima #haikyuu

[thisisapaige]

If I Could Turn Back Time

(For Suptober20. Day 12 Prompt: Rewind. Word Count: 1510.)

It started as a Cher joke then... BAM! Angst. Look, 15x15 has got me worried, okay? Let’s feel our feels down below or on this link to the Ao3 version.

“If you could take it all back-- like, if you could rewind time or whatever-- would you?”

“Dude.” Dean took his eyes off the road for a dangerously long time. He stared at Sam, his eyes wide and shining in the headlights of a passing truck. “What the hell?”

Sam pointed out the windshield to the road to remind Dean that he was, in fact, driving the Impala down a long, dark, rainy highway. Once Sam was sure they weren’t going to end up wrapped around a tree, he said, “Just thinking.”

The next few miles passed with no other sound than the Impala’s turning wheels and the soft patter of raindrops on the windows. Sam inwardly groaned. He shouldn’t have asked. His social filter tended to turn off when he was tired.

Something about the final fight looming-- the fight against God, for crying out loud-- had Sam spending a lot of sleepless nights thinking about how in the fuck his life ended up this weird. Was it when his mom died? The first or second time? Was it when he lost Jessica? Or Dad? Or when Dean went to Hell? Was it when Sam died and went to Hell? Was it the gradual integration of Castiel, Angel of the Lord, into the Winchester family as Sam’s brother and Dean’s… well, Dean’s something? How about when Sam decided to adopt the Devil’s son?

Yeah, Sam didn’t know either. He figured, if he had to rewind to a particular moment in time to stop all the absurdity, he’d pick when his mother burned on the ceiling. So, really, his life had been weird ever since he was a baby.

“Okay, but, what would you do if you could turn back time?” Dean asked. He paused, then added, in a melodic tone, “If you could find a way?

“Dude.”

“Would you take back those words that’ve hurt you, and you’d stay?”

“Cher? Really?

“Hey, you recognized it.”

Sam rolled his eyes and took a deep breath, fighting the urge to make a sarcastic comment. No way was he going to enable Dean. Sam was not about to let Dean break into I Got You Babe. If anyone was to sing that duet with Dean, it’d be Cas.

“Fine. Point made,” Sam said. “It was a stupid question.”

“No, not stupid,” Dean said, “but you go down that ‘what if’ spiral, you’re gonna have a hard time finding your way out.”

“Yeah.” Sam rested his head against the passenger's side window and closed his eyes. Maybe he just needed some rest. The Impala’s soothing rumble always lulled him to sleep. She was his constant, his safe place, his home since he was a boy. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Right as Sam drifted into dreams, he heard Dean answer in a distant whisper, like he hadn’t meant to speak out loud.

“No. No, I don’t think I would because-- because then I’d never meet…”

⁂

The phone rang. Castiel, sitting in his car trying to summon the will to walk into that playground and deal with what little was left of Heaven-- again-- felt grateful for the excuse to delay the inevitable. He reached into his pocket, glanced at the name on the display, and accepted the call.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas. This, uh, this isn’t a bad time is it?”

“Not at all. What is it you need?”

“Oh. Uh. Nothing, really. Just checking in.”

“Checking in?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I do that.” Dean’s voice sounded usually high. A result of a bad connection, most likely. “Don’t I?”

“I’m…” Castiel watched as a mother pushed a stroller across the street and tried to think of something to say. He was not one for small talk. “Fine.”

“Good. Good. That’s, uh, good.”

They lapsed into silence. The crackle of the open phone line and the sound of Dean’s breathing was all that indicated that Dean was still on the line.

Castiel presumed that, maybe, this was the point he was supposed to speak or add something to the conversation, but there was nothing to say. Castiel felt no need to add idle noise. That was one of the many things Castiel still had not figured out about humans: why they always needed to fill the quiet moments with pointless words. Sam told him it was a way of being friendly, so Castiel tried. He could not help but think that allowing a peaceful moment of reflection was kind as well. If anyone needed a peaceful moment, it was Dean.

“Cas? You still there, buddy?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, good, uh--” Dean sighed. He sounded exhausted. Castiel was about to ask after his health when Dean asked, in a rush, “If you could rewind time, like, stop all this crazy world-ending shit, would you?”

Castiel narrowed his eyes. He wished he could see Dean, see if there was tension in his shoulders or hesitation in his eyes. As it was, all Castiel had was the question and the empty street before him.

“You of all people should know the dangers of time travel,” Castiel said.

“Oh, yeah, I know.” Castiel imagined Dean waving a dismissive hand as he spoke. “Don’t worry. This is all hypothetical.”

“This hypothetical sounds rather specific.”

“It’s just something Sam said the other day. I guess he got in my head or something.” Dean laughed. It was not convincing. “C’mon, think about it. Humour me, dude.”

So Castiel did. He could no longer travel through time, therefore it truly was just hypothetical.

His instinctive response was no. No, not at all. Every time the angels meddled with the past, they managed to, as Dean would say, fuck shit up. The evidence spoke for itself: Anna, Mary Winchester, Lily Sunder.

However, something stopped him from declaring it right away. If Castiel could go back in time-- if he could find the moment God chose to nudge the world to its end over and over again just to make the Winchesters act out a story for His enjoyment-- would he?

It would save the Winchester a lot of pain. Perhaps Sam would have the chance to finish his degree, never to be called back onto the road by Dean. Perhaps Dean would have grown up in a happy home instead of backroads and motels. Perhaps Sam would never have died, Dean would never have sold his soul, and Castiel would never have to rescue Dean from Hell.

Would Jack be born in this situation? Castiel shuddered to think that he would not. Jack was too good, too precious, too necessary to the world for Castiel to consider otherwise.

But, if this situation occurred, Castiel would never have met Sam.

Castiel would never have met Dean.

In that other world, the one where the Apocalypse succeeded, Castiel had a glimpse of who-- what-- he would be without the Winchesters. That other Castiel’s rebellious spirit had been broken and beaten, his mind reprogrammed over and over again until his eye lost colour and his head involuntary twitched. He was ruthless, merciless, moulded into the perfect weapon by the angels. That Castiel never found the means to escape Heaven. That Castiel never met Dean.

Would Castiel become that, to spare the Winchester’s pain?

He would. He knew that he would. He would give anything to help the ones he loved.

He had proven that. The Empty always lurked behind him, its darkness nipping at his heels, waiting, waiting, for its moment.

“I don’t know.” Castiel licked his lips and tapped the steering wheel with his fingertips. “But I do know I would regret having never met you.”

“Yeah.” Dean let go of a breath. It sounded like relief. “Yeah, same here.”

“I think it best we focus on the present.”

Because the present was all Castiel had.

⁂

Dean ended the call. He set his phone on the bedside table and lay back on his bed, watching the shadows dance across the ceiling of his room.

Yeah. Best to focus on the present. Best to focus on something other than the what-if scenarios running through his head. Best to focus on something  other  than the guilt he felt when he realized, even in a hypothetical situation, he wouldn’t rewind time to save his blood family if it meant never meeting Cas.

He loved his mom. Her loss was still raw in his heart. He loved his dad, as complicated as it was. He’d already made his peace with that. He loved Sam. He would do anything for his brother.

He loved Cas.

He did.

And it was a deep love, just as strong as the kind he had for his family, but it was also different.

Romantic.

And he couldn’t bear the thought of not knowing that, even in a hypothetical world.

Wow.

That was a revelation.

Maybe one day Dean would finally find the courage to tell Cas that he had a place in Dean’s heart, body, and soul.

And that Dean could never lose Cas, in this world or the next. Not even in a hypothetical situation.

Never.

#suptober20 #spn fic #destiel #destiel fic #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #spn #supernatural #fanfiction #fic #angst #the empty deal #i'll confess #i struggled a bit with this one #but #i'm glad i got it out there #happy thanksgiving to my canadian friends #enjoy! #writing paige

[mere-mortifer-writing]

Dean Winchester/Reader ❧ Sweet Apology

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Dean Winchester/Reader; Dean Winchester/OFC Word count: 4874 | Chapter 1 of 3 Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content Tags: Fluff & Smut, a smidge of Angst; Misunderstandings; Porn with Feelings; Arguing; Reader has a crush on Dean  Summary: The plan was to watch a movie in Dean's room, but without Sam to help her feel less awkward, it's no surprise that she ends up saying something stupid - and make Dean think she dislikes him, of all things, when she has a gigantic crush on the guy. They start yelling at each other, soon enough they're kissing, and then - well, Dean's bed gets put to good use. It kind of sucks, though, that as soon as they're done Dean puts his clothes back on leaves her like nothing happened. Wham, bam, thank you ma'am. Well, not really. He's just absolutely clueless. I swear, if these two don't open their mouths and talk...

Beta’d by @mostly-shawn and @aingealcethlenn - Thank you so much for the help <3 

Read on Ao3 | Chapter Two coming soon

❧ Chapter One 

So, to summarize: she’s eating Fruity Loops, in an underground bunker, at the same table as two certified living legends in the hunting community. The monster hunting community, may she remind you in case you lost the memo.

She is, apparently, very good at identifying and theoretically killing said monsters – although God forbid they ever ask her to join in on the action. She admires Sam and Dean for what they do, but she's fine staying behind the scenes: rummaging through old lore books and giving herself a headache is as far as she'll go. She has proven herself useful in multiple occasions, so no shame there. 

Sam confessed to her, on the one memorable occasion when he had drunk enough to be tipsy, that he was more than happy she has to interest in hunting.

"It's my life and I love it", he said, "but it sucks all the ass and you shouldn't do it. Everyone fucking dies. If you got hurt I'd be sad about it for at least six months straight. I'd grow a beard and all." "What would Dean do?", she asked in morbid curiosity.  "'Dunno, drink and throw every chair and lamp he sees on the ground, maybe? He does that a lot. Just - never hunt, okay?" "I'll do it for the sake of your poor furniture", she responded, and she never changed her mind. 

Sorry, sometimes the crazy hits her all at once, and she needs to do a recap of the situation. Where was she? Oh, right: she was looking at Dean. (What else is new?)

Dean's sprawled on the wooden chair like a bored king, dead guy's robe at least two sizes too big on his broad shoulders. It's one of those rare instances where he slept well the night before, and he looks cozy and relaxed and roughly fifteen years younger than yesterday.

She's trying so hard not to openly stare at him that her cereal got all mushy in the meantime.

"Are you sure Jody can deal with this on her own?", Dean is saying, oblivious to her thoughts. "Seems to me like she's already got her hands full, with the girls and all."

On the other side of the table, Sam sips his coffee and nods. "Yeah, hopefully, it'll be just the one werewolf. I told Jody to call us if she finds out there's more going on."

"Hopefully there's not. Oh!" Dean slaps a celebratory hand on the table and grins. "That means we've got the day off! We could take advantage of that Netflix subscription we pay for." "Garth is paying – we're just leeching off of him. And I actually wanted to go for a run. Wanna come?" "Ugh." "Yeah, I thought so. You two can start without me, though. I'll join you later."

Oh, the mental image that double-meaning evokes!  But it’s more of a private joke with herself that anything – she likes Sam, obviously, if only because she's a straight woman with functioning eyes, but she doesn't have a crush. He’s tall and kind, and objectively attractive but he’s not… 

Her eyes fall on his brother's long fingers tapping on the table, his strong wrist peeking out of the robe’s sleeve, and she feels her stomach tie in knots. 

He’s not Dean, alright?

She didn’t ask not to have eyes but for him, and yet here she is: all moon-eyed over his wrist, of all things. 

Someone shoot her; it’d be a mercy killing at this point. 

Dean turns to her, all bright-eyed in his good mood. "What do you say, movie marathon? We could stay in my room, get comfy on the bed." Well, now, that makes her legs clench tight together under the table.  She knows she’ll have to answer very quickly because in a second she’ll start overthinking and find some excuse not to join Dean. In his bedroom, on his bed. Something she has never fantasized about, no sir. "Yes? Yeah, why not!", she exclaims, just a tad too loud. Oh my God, at least try to play it cool. Sam smirks from behind his cup, and she wonders for a moment if this "morning run" of his isn't just a ploy to leave her alone with his brother. Then Dean winks at her, and all other thoughts fly out of the window.  "Awesome. Come on, I'll even let you choose the movie."

❧ ☙

"I'll let you choose, he says," she huffs to herself. Her reflection in the bathroom mirror looks back at her with mild panic in her eyes. "Like that's not agonizing or anything."

God, she just wishes Dean didn't make her so damn nervous. How long has she known the Winchesters for? A year? She's even living with them, she should be past all – she clenches her fists, trying to calm herself – this. And still, Dean makes her heady and rattled just by looking at her for too long. She needs to get a grip.

While she brushes her teeth and washes her face, she settles on Kill Bill – which a) she knows Dean hasn't seen in years and b) should hopefully keep her attention away from his closeness. On his bed. Where she will also be.

God help her.

She walks out of the bathroom up to Dean's room. He's already propping his laptop on a bunch of pillows at the foot of the bed, humming a Metallica song under his breath. His eyes shoot up to her when she arrives.  "Hey! Did you choose the movie?", he says. He's still as carefree as she's ever seen him, but there's something in his voice that was missing during breakfast. A note of –  weariness? Hope? She can't decipher it. "Don't tell Sammy I said, but I could sit through a chick–flick without bitching too much if you wanna watch one.”  And if that isn’t proof he has a martyr complex... "Actually, I was thinking Kill Bill?" He beams up. "Oh hell yeah, haven't seen that one in ages." He finds the movie and hits play, settling down against the bed frame. She notices that he got rid of the robe and is now sitting in only a t–shirt and grey sweatpants. Oh please, no, she thinks, already feeling desperate. Fucking grey sweatpants, tight and revealing in all the right places, inviting her to look down, down...come on, just take a peek- 

She gingerly sits down at the opposite end of the bed, eyes straight ahead.  Despite the distance, she can smell Dean’s cologne (and what the fuck did he put cologne on for?), fresh and manly and very attractive – so much so that she forgets to focus on the film.  She's acutely aware of his presence beside her – of the warmth radiating from him, of how little space and layers there are between their bodies. She also notices him glancing at her from time to time, even though her gaze stays fixed on the computer screen.  Is she acting weird? Is that why he's looking at her? She's literally just sitting there, but maybe there's something on her face, or she's breathing too loud…that has never happened before, but who knows–

"I don't bite, you know?"  She's almost startled by Dean's voice interrupting her manic line of thought. He's now openly watching her, the small smile on his lips a mix between tentative and reassuring. "You can come closer if you want to. You're almost off the bed." She laughs nervously – damn, way to put her on the spot. But he’s right: she’s all bunched up on the corner of the bed, shaky hands hidden under her legs. "I, uh, didn't want to make you uncomfortable, that's all."  What the fuck does that even mean? One of Dean's eyebrows shot up his forehead, and his smile turns disbelieving. "Me? You're the one that looks like she has a gun pointed at her head." Her whole face heats up in embarrassment. He knows she's timid, and anyone who even glances in her direction knows she's head over heels for him – why does he have to put attention on it? "I'm just out of my depth here, you know I'm shy–" "Shy?" he interrupts her. "We've known each other for a year! And we both know you're not like this with Sam." 

Also very true, much to her chagrin – Sam has this puppy-dog aura to himself that makes him look smaller and non-threatening, at least when he’s in the company of friends. Dean...Dean doesn’t seem to have an off-switch, he’s always very unapologetically himself. Even when he’s acting like a total dork, he fills the entire room with his presence.

The mortification of being called out like this is making her eyes water, and Dean's unfaltering eye contact is not helping. "It's different with Sam," she tries to explain. What can she say without giving too much of her feelings away?  "Why? Have I done something bad to you?" he asks. “You’re always so – so skittish with me, it’s like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Dean has the most expressive eyes she has ever seen, and try as he might his feelings are always starkly clear on his face – like now, settling over the vibrant apple-green like an ugly shadow; disappointment and plain sadness. She really, really doesn't want to hurt him, and trips over her own thoughts in an attempt to say I'm not uncomfortable, I'm just in love and bad with feelings – but how to say it without spelling it out? 

"It's nothing you've done,” she tries, “it's just – you."

Oh, God. That came out awfully wrong.

Dean scoffs, breaking the eye contact to look at everything in the room but her. "Yeah, I figured," he snickers, "Could have just said no to watching the movie, then, sweetheart. You shouldn't have to spend time with people you dislike." Dislike? She almost can't believe the irony of the situation. "Dean, I don't dislike you, that's not what I meant." "You just said you have a problem with me as a person! Listen,” – he passes a hand over his mouth, like he does when he needs a second to find the words – “Listen, I don’t know what you heard about me, okay? Sometimes hunters pass through here, and maybe you got wind of some rumours. I’m the first one to admit I can be a douchebag from time to time, but they don’t know me. Hell, half of them I don’t even consider friends! And I thought, you.. well, whatever. You can go back where you came from if living with me is so damn unpleasant! ” Well, ouch. That one hurt. She stands from the bed, raising her voice to hide how close she is to tears.  They could have spent a nice day together, watching movies and eating popcorn from the same bowl or something, and then she had to go ahead and ruin everything.  And he's being so stubborn, God, but what else is new?  "Dean, what – rumours? You think this is about your reputation or something?” “I don’t know! You fucking tell me.” “Why do you wanna argue? You were in such a good mood two minutes ago-" "Yeah, I really was." He jumps off the bed and walks around it until he's face to face with her. "Excuse me if seeing you all – all scared of me kind of killed the mood!" "What? I'm not scared!" "Then why the fuck are you on the verge of tears right now?" "'Cause I'm sorry," she shouts to match his tone. He's standing so close; it's unfair how much it affects her. "I don’t find you scary, okay? I’m sorry I made you think that!" "Yeah, well, I’m sorry, too,” he shouts back. “Then why are we yelling?” “I have no idea!”

They both fall silent. Her mind is trying to process what the fuck just happened, why was she shouting in the first place when Dean is right there, not even five inches away –  eyes bright and fiery because of the argument, the hard line of his mouth relaxing as his expression changes. He looks down at her lips. Her breath catches in her throat. She feels paralyzed by how intensely she wants him at that moment, stuck between throwing caution to the wind or fleeing before she makes a fool of herself. But Dean hasn’t moved away, has he? If anything he’s inching closer, and he's looking at her like, like he, too…

Dean leans in and kisses her, a soft sigh leaving his nose when their lips touch.  He's so warm, is her first thought. Warm and big and solid against her, so much more substantial than in her fantasies – where he holds her just as tightly, kisses her just as deeply. Her hands tremble slightly as she goes to cup his face. God, it's happening for real. She bites on his full bottom lip with urgency, and he tugs her closer by the hips, pushing his tongue in her mouth. He’s not so much aggressive as he’s ardent, burning fast and bright on her skin like he hasn’t much time left – or like he’s waited too long, and he’s hell-bent on making himself unforgettable.

She isn’t sure she would like the pace, was he anyone else.  But oh God, he’s not anyone else, he’s Dean – and she wants, she wants, she wants him and won’t make excuses for liking this. Teeth, bruises, too-sharp nails; warm breaths mixing with hers, his fingers digging in wherever she’s softer and warmer. 

She passes a hand on the short hair at the nape of his neck, and she can feel goosebumps rise on his arms at the feeling. Dean gives her one last peck on the lips before hiding his face in the crook of her neck – he releases a shuddering sigh that makes her shiver, and nips at the skin behind her ear. His big hands settle on her legs, squeezing and palming the back of her thighs until she's raised to her tiptoes. "Hold on, baby," he says and picks her up from the ground.  Wrapped around his waist, she can feel his erection pressing on her core –  and she's never felt emptier and needier than right there with Dean, hard and panting, ready to fuck her against a wall.  "Oh God," she moans, and desperately paws at Dean's shirt to get some skin–on–skin contact.  He raises his face to watch her and chuckles at her efforts, grinding with more and more insistence against her.  "I know, I know," he hums, "I gotcha." He smiles that boyish adorable grin he sometimes does, and she's overwhelmed by both the rush of affection for him and the desire pooling low in her belly. 

She's about to say something undoubtedly stupid that would ruin everything –  she has the three words already formed on her lips, but they turn into a gasp when Dean twists around and lets her fall on the mattress. The cold sheets underneath her give some clarity back. Not that she keeps it for long, with Dean crawling between her open thighs, hair all fucked up by her hands. He gives her a long caress from her knees up to her waist and smiles again. "Always wanted you in my bed." Is this actually happening?, she thinks, incredulous. "Wh–Yeah?" "Why do you you think I proposed we watch something here?" He winks at her. "Sam wasn't home...I dunno, I felt lucky today." "...and then we ended up yelling at each other a bunch", she adds. Dean huffs a laugh and leans down to kiss her, deep and long enough she forgets what they were even talking about. "Doesn't that just count as foreplay?"  "I don't think so, no." Dean beams at her, eyes glinting with something dangerous. "No? How about this, then?", he says, and licks a hot strip on her neck before sucking a mark there. The sharp feeling of his teeth on her sensitive skin makes her back arch closer to his chest. "Or this?" One of his hands sneaks under her shirt, slow and teasing. Dean's fingers splay wide on her stomach on their way up, and she's never hated a piece of clothing more than her bra when it stops the contact. She wants everything off, wants to feel him really touch her. "Oh, fuck," she gasps. "Dean– Dean, take this off." He groans against her collarbone, voice low and rumbly, before leaning back on his knees. "Mmh, yeah. Yes, ma'am. Can you roll over?" The thought of Dean pressed long and wide along her back makes her toes curl, and she gladly turns around. 

She realizes Uma Thurman is still swinging her katana on the computer screen, so she takes a second to close the laptop. There's the swishing of fabric behind her, probably Dean shimming out of his sweatpants and shirt while she can't see him. She goes to undress as well, but two warm hands on her hips stop her. "No, wait, I wanna do it," Dean says. “‘Kay?” Oh God, this man is gonna be the death of her. "Yes, please."

Dean scoots closer, his knees on either side of hers, erection pressed on the small of her back. He briefly hugs her to his chest while he leaves a kiss on her hair, squeezing a bit before he lets her go. She swallows back a whimper at the feeling – not because it brings any real pleasure, but because of Dean's unguarded desire behind the gesture. He’s slowed down the pace, maybe for her benefit, maybe for his own.  God, she's there, with Dean. Unbelievable. She wants him so much she could cry. 

Nuzzling her neck, he helps her take off her shirt, and then – faster, cause he's seductive, yes, but also earnest and enthusiastic – he unclasps her bra, and it falls on the bed. She gets why he asked her to turn around, conscious that her shyness would, at least at first, follow her even in bed: like this, she can't see him watching, and her instinct to hide from him is stifled.  Not that she had nothing to worry about: Dean just sighs softly and cups her breasts in his hands, a smile splitting his face at how soft and hot her skin is. 

Her leggings go next, tugged down roughly by herself, 'cause suddenly she really, really needs to be naked so he can touch her everywhere.  She leans forward on the bed, face pressing on a pillow as she shimmies out of her pants.  Dean huffs a laugh behind her. "These are very sexy," he comments, hooking his fingers on the edge of her underwear. Which is ridiculous, cause she has on the most boring pair of black undies ever produced.  Goes to show with how little Dean is pleased.  Instead of taking the last piece of offending clothing off, he slides two fingers up and down her folds, pushing in a little through the fabric.  "So wet already," he says, “and I haven't even touched you yet." His voice has gone low and rumbly and that, coupled with his fingers, makes her that much wetter.  “‘Cause I want you,” she mumbles in the pillow, stating the obvious. She rocks backs on his hand, inviting. “You know, I-” “Yeah, baby?” Oh God, he called me baby, she thinks a bit hysterically. She bites back the embarrassment and tries to find somewhere the courage to finish the sentence. “You know, I - I think of you when I touch myself.”

There it is, out in the open. Just how ridiculously attracted to him she is. 

His movements stutter; when she angles her head so that she can see his face, she finds him already watching her with such intense, naked longing in his eyes, she has to feel proud. It’s getting to her head, feeling wanted like this. “What?” he asks, finally sliding off her underwear. He’s already naked, and as soon as the panties hit the mattress she pushes back until she’s flush with him – his erection is pressed in the cleft of her ass, getting smeared with her wetness when she starts undulating her hips. “What- fuck,” Dean tries again, distracted by what she’s doing. “Mmh, what do you think about?” God, she’s burning up, and she’s so damn empty without him inside of her. “I don’t know, uh - Your fingers?” Dean circles an arm around her and sneaks his hand down her belly until he can touch her clit, middle and forefinger forming slow circles in time with her hips. “Yes, yes like that, fuck,” she gasps. She decides, there and then, to tell him a secret. 

“One time, one time we were at that diner together, Sam and Cas were there as well...And you had that red shirt on, and you must have spent some time on your hair, ‘cause it was – I don’t know, Dean, you were just so beautiful. I was sitting right in front of you. You were flirting with the waitress, and I thought, I thought ‘God, what if I took my shoe off, and slid my foot all the way up his leg and then, when he looks at me, confused, pretend I’m not doing anything?’ And I kept thinking about it, ‘cause you weren’t looking at me anyway.  What if I made you hard, there in public, but you had to keep your face straight and not react? And then, what if you grasped my ankle under the table like a warning to stop, but you still pushed back to have more friction, blushing that pretty red when Sam asked you if were okay? And you know what, Dean?” She pauses a second, lost in the fantasy and the feeling of his hands on her. “I would have stopped without a word. I would have left you there, wouldn’t have even acknowledged what I was doing by glancing at you – I would have stood up, with you still hard in your jeans in that cute, family-friendly diner, and I would have said “Sorry, gotta powder my nose” or something just as stupid, to look even more annoyingly innocent –  and then I would have gone to the bathroom. And waited for you to follow me, so you could fuck me in one of the stalls, my hand on your mouth to keep you quiet, hoping against hope that no one would come in, or hear us, or interrupt us before you could cum so deep inside me I would have felt you for days-”

Dean moves away from her, one hand to keep her still. “Okay, okay, that’s- that's enough for now." His free hand is at the base of his dick, squeezing a bit as he calms down. He’s breathing fast, lips bitten red and freckles standing out against the flush on his face. He is, quite possibly, the hottest thing she has ever seen. And she did that. “You little- I think I remember that day, fuck. That’s what you were thinking? Jesus.”  He briefly rummages in the bedside drawer and comes back to the bed with a condom.  “Is like this okay?” he asks, and helps her up from where she was sprawled on the bed.  She considers whether or not her legs will hold her up in this position, and figures that after that spiel she deserves to be a bit of a pillow princess – Dean will hold her up if he needs to. With those strong, muscular arms of his. Mmh, God bless his biceps... So she hums “yes,”  and hooks her feet around his calves to feel him closer. 

She looks back at him as he goes in, and more than the feeling of Dean sliding into her, she'll never forget how his eyes flutter close in a pained frown, like it feels so good it hurts; like he’s somehow surprised by the pleasure.  And then he moves, and her eyes just close on their own at the feeling. Everything’s just burning hot – Dean inside her, his hands touching everywhere on her body, his forehead pressed between her shoulders when he leans down.  “‘Missed this,” he mumbles on her skin. “I always forget how good it is.” 

Which would be, was this a different setting, an unwelcome reminder of how many women have been under him before her. Right now, with him groaning and moaning in her ear? She couldn’t care less.

The pace picks up - and, really, Dean’s a very proportionate man, and, in that position, he goes too deep for comfort. At a particularly hard thrust, she whimpers in pain. “You okay?” he asks, worried fingers moving the hair out of her face.  “Yeah, ‘s okay. Just-” “I hurt you,” he interjects, and helps her up. “Get closer to the headboard? Alright, let’s try it like this.”  On her knees, with her arms balancing her weight on the wall, the angle changes drastically. Dean slides back into her, this time pressed on her in a long line from shoulders to knees, and hooks his chin on her shoulder. “Better?”

“Way better,” she says, and smiles at his happy sigh. 

There’s not much she could tell you about the rest, not without interrupting herself every two seconds by grinning and blushing. It just feels good. It feels amazing.  Dean’s experience is evident in his every move, and he doesn’t let her forget for a second exactly who’s she with –  in that too-hot bedroom with weapons decorating the wall, giving a memory foam mattress a run for its money.  She says his name probably too many times, and some ridiculous praise comes out of her mouth once in a while, but Dean doesn’t seem to mind; he bites her neck too hard, at one point, and it hurts but she loves it, the proof that he has lost himself completely in her body.  And Dean builds her up and up, with his voice and his fingers and his cock, until she shudders and cums around him. 

She briefly loses sense of time, feeling only Dean thrusting into her faster and deeper and with a faltering rhythm – when she comes back to herself, he’s slipping out of her with a groaned “Jesus Christ.”

She lies down on her back, panting as she watches him throw away the condom in a small bin beside the bed. All those good chemicals that come with an orgasm are making her feel more naked than a simple lack of clothes – Dean turns back to her, and she has the impression that he can see right through her skin and bones; that all the feelings that surely will scare him off are sprawled out on the bed like heavy, uncomfortable blanket. 

She feels both amazing and scrubbed raw at the same time. She really needs Dean to take her in his arm before she starts crying, which is becoming more and more probable by the second. 

Instead, his attention falls on his phone, bleeping away on the bedside table. “Twelve messages?”, he says when he picks it up. They’re from Sam, which becomes obvious when he reads them instead of chucking the phone at the end of the bed; she watches him frown as he scrolls down. “Ugh, fuck. It’s Sam; Jody apparently needs back up after all. Five werewolves? Well, shit.”

She doesn’t say anything and busies herself by sliding under the blanket. 

She doesn’t like to think of Jody in danger, but she likes even less where this is going. Dean is putting his boxers back on, and clean clothes from his drawer. Oh, wow, look at all that flannel. Does he have an endless supply or something? “I gotta go,” he explains. No shit, Sherlock. “Hey, it was awesome,” he tells her as he puts a belt on, nonchalant as if he was talking about a very good burger. “Just- awesome. Shit, I’m so late already, Sam’s gonna bitch all the way to Sioux Falls. See you in a few days?” She nods, a bit jaded by the sudden change in scenario – from one with Dean naked in bed with her to one where he’s leaving as if nothing happened –  and he smiles and winks at her. 

And then he’s gone. 

Maybe she spends the next hour on the verge of tears, hugging his pillow and watching the rest of Kill Bill as a distraction, but that’s not really any of your business.  She gets up, eventually, and puts her clothes back on even if the bunker is empty. She does what feels like a walk of shame back to her room and straight to her shower. She washes off, with her favourite lavender-scented soap, all the signs of the past few hours off of her skin. Like it was a random guy. Like it was just a one-off. 

Thank you very much, ma’am, it has been fun while it lasted. 

“I gotta go.”

Well, alright. Goodbye stranger, then. 

❧ ☙

I hope you guys enjoyed it! I cherish every comment and reblog, feedback really motivates me to keep writing <3 I especially appreciate comments on characterization, I tried to keep Dean as IC as possible :) Let me know what you think! 

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[xbananaleensyo]

The Pining Club

Ship: Vanohm/Ohmnoss

Warnings: mentions of alcohol/drinking, mentions of sex/sexual content

Words: 4,630

Summary: Evan knew having feelings for Jonathon wasn’t ideal. It was worst when Jonathon had feelings for someone else. In the midst of heartbreak, Evan decided he didn’t want to be alone that night. And when he meets a green-eyed stranger at the club, he realizes loneliness is a wild thing.

A/N: Did you know that Vanohm is a pretty neat ship? Well, now you do! Fun fact: this story is based on the song Dancing with a stranger by Sam Smith and Normani. I was obsessed with that song for a month and listened to it repeatedly while writing this. Thank you for reading! I appreciate all reblog/likes/comments! Have a nice day, yo.

Maybe this is how it was supposed to be. But that doesn’t mean it hurt any less. The hurt was bitter because Evan knew Jonathan wasn’t his. But each fucking time he set himself up and fell for him. Fell for his striking blue eyes. For his chaotic dumb laugh. Fell for the caring look he gave him on a bad day or the excitement in his pupils on a good one. Evan knew he was an idiot and that falling for his close friend was not a good idea. But a little whisper inside him just hoped that maybe one day he didn’t have to swallow his feelings for Jonathon. That maybe he’ll fall for him too…

But, fuck, maybe this is how it’s meant be.

Evan shook his head, fighting the tears he already spilled out for the past couple nights. Anger, regret and pain were still raw in his veins, but he was done sitting in the dark of his room. Evan can’t handle his feelings for Jon, he can’t handle that he can’t have him but when Jon spends their nights talking about the “certain special girl” that has stolen his heart, Evan couldn’t help but have his jealousy go overboard and have true loneliness set in. Evan didn’t want to be alone tonight, not with Jon on his mind. He wanted to forget.

And that’s why he’s here now in a nice button up and black bomber jacket, wearing the jeans that hug him just right. He’s leaning on the bar, staring through the flashing lights of the night club and feeling the music vibrate in his chest. He’s not quite sure how many drinks he’s had already, buying some of his own and having a couple more bought for him in exchange for a dance or two. But it’s enough that Evan is feeling pleasantly warm, adventurous, and the drink he was sipping just didn’t taste like alcohol anymore. Soon, he was on the dance floor again, swaying his hips in time with the music. It was at that moment, a green-eyed stranger caught his eye.

The first thing Evan notices was that it was morning. The birds chirping outside was proof. The second thing he noticed was the slight headache he had and that his body ached all over. And, finally, the third thing he noticed was that he wasn’t in his bed, nor his room, and he was completely naked. Panic started to set in as he tried to remember the events on how he got here. His memories were blurry with alcohol but he recalls spending most of his night with one specific stranger. The green-eyed stranger. The one with the thin scarf and tight, grey V-neck. The one he had his hands all over as they grinded hips to the beat and found their rhythm with no breathing space in between. He remembers curling around the stranger’s neck, lips brushing his collarbone until his face was being pulled up and the stranger asked for a kiss. Evan agreed, nodding before their lips met, in soft presses at first until it got out of control and they were practically making out in the middle of the dance floor. Evan followed him home, their lips attached as the guy dragged him to his bedroom with his fingers around his belt loops until he had no jeans at all. It was a feverish act, sweat and limbs, skin on skin, moans hitting the walls. The last thing he remembers was being tucked in as sleep washed over him.

Evan looked around, realizing there was no one in the room but him, the side of the bed was empty and cold. He didn’t find his clothes on the floor, instead they were folded neatly on an office chair with a note detailing where the bathroom was and that he can use whatever products he needed. Evan changed quickly, rinsing his face with cold water to feel more alert. He decided to gargle his mouth with mouthwash and comb his hair to waste time. He wasn’t sure what to do. Should he try to find the guy he slept with? Should he try to leave quietly? After pacing the bathroom a couple times, he concluded that he didn’t want to be rude. He didn’t want to be that guy. Besides, someone that folds their hook-up’s clothes afterwards couldn’t be that bad, right?

“Oh, you’re awake. Hey, there.” Evan heard when walking into what he assumed to be the dining room. The voice sounded tired but was as velvety as he remembers. It came from the kitchen, eventually making its way to Evan. “Did you find everything okay?”

“Y-yeah, I did. Thanks for everything…Ryan, right?” Ryan nodded. Evan noticed he was wearing glasses this time and a long green robe. Evan inwardly smiled at the fuzzy, bunny slippers on his feet.

“And if I remember, your name is Evan?” Evan rubbed the back of his neck and nodded back.

 “Yeah, that’s me. Good morning, I guess?”

“Well, it’s technically the afternoon but, yeah, good morning.” Ryan chuckled and pointed to the table. “There’s uhh Tylenol and water there if you need any…are you hungry, by the way? I made breakfast…or lunch? I wasn’t sure how you liked your eggs so I just scrambled it. Unless you’re vegan or something! I have oatmeal then if that’s fine? I also brewed some coffee. I personally like mine very sweet but I didn’t want to touch yours if that’s not how you like it. I also have black tea if that’s more your style and, and I’m sorry I’m rambling.” By this time Evan was already seated on the table, gulping down his glass of water and two pills. He smiled politely at his host.

“Scrambled eggs are fine, Ryan. And just make my coffee just like yours, I’m really not that picky. But thanks again, you really know how to make a man comfortable.” Evan softly laughed followed by Ryan’s own little giggle.

“Good hospitality happens to be my forte.” He says before going into the kitchen and coming back with a plate of eggs and a steaming mug. Evan didn’t realize how hungry he was until he put a spoonful of eggs in his mouth. They ate in silence, utensils scratching plates and occasional sips filled the air.

“I’m sorry if this is weird or awkward…or if I seem nervous. I don’t usually do this kind of thing. This picking-up-guys-at-the-club thing.” Ryan said sheepishly. Evan hummed. He understood. It’s not like he partook in the activity often himself.

“So, what was the difference this time?” He saw Ryan furrow his eyebrows at the question. It was clear he was debating something in his head and Evan was afraid he hit something personal.

“I, I mean you don’t have to tell me. I was just wondering…”

“No, no Evan, you’re fine. You’re in my house and I kinda brought you here so I think it’s fair that I’m real with you.” Ryan averted his gaze, choosing to look at his plate instead. “I was…I was trying to get over my crush. His name is Luke and he’s a good friend of mine. But he’s getting married at the end of the year so my chances are nonexistent. And you know what they say: to get over someone you have to get under someone else.” Ryan laughed again but it was empty. It was filled with the pain he knew too well. And maybe that’s why Evan laughed too. It was as hollow as his. What are the odds he found someone like him.

“Now, I know it’s sad but you don’t have to laugh and be so rude Ev—”

“Jonathon.”

“What?”

Evan poked at his eggs. “His name is Jonathon. The guy I’m trying to get over. He recently started dating this girl and I was so heartbroken that I needed to go out and do something. I really didn’t want to be alone last night…” There was a moment of silence until Ryan lifted his mug towards him.

“Well, welcome to the club, Evan.” He said bitterly. They clanked mugs in unison.

 The next time Evan sees Ryan is about a week later. It’s by this time that they’ve exchanged numbers and texted casually. It seems seeing someone naked and then exposing theirs and your own emotional turmoil over breakfast makes you automatic friends. It’s a good thing Evan gets along with Ryan so well.

“Have you—have you not seen a single Marvel movie, dude?” Evan chuckles, his hands flat on the table in disbelief. Ryan rolls his eyes, blowing at his spoon before taking a sip of his clam chowder. They were sitting in a booth in a nice local café they both knew that was near the club they met in. It was a decently popular café, a nice flow of traffic moving around the two men.

“Of course, I have! Just not—"

“—ones made in the last decade?”  Evan teases pointing a french fry towards his direction. Ryan waves his hand, dismissing Evan’s words.

“Details, details. Hey, I review video games, not movies. I don’t have to watch all of them.”

“Oh? Is that like your job or something?” Evan asks, realizing he actually didn’t know what Ryan does for a living and the question piqued his interest.

“Yeah, it kinda is. I’m umm an editor and columnist for this online magazine that talks about video games. I have a segment on there where I review and give my first impression on certain video games…kinda geeky, huh?” Ryan laughs but keeps a nervous hand on the back of his neck.

Evan nods. “Yeah, that’s totally geeky. You’re only lucky that I’m fucking geeky too.” Ryan raises an interested eyebrow before Evan continues, “I do the same thing. Well, not the reviewing and writing part but I do work with video games. I’m a sound engineer. I’m that one guy that makes all the sound bits that go “bam!” or “wapow!” and shit. But I mostly love working on music tracks that go into the background…” Evan looks at Ryan to find him beaming, his hands slowly going to his cheeks

“Oh Evan! That’s like one of my favorite parts! I enjoy reviewing the best and the worst gaming soundtracks. Which “boom” is a good “boom.” Oh c’mon, man, you gotta tell me what games you’ve worked on. I gotta know if I reviewed any of your stuff…” Evan throws his last fry at Ryan, earning a squawk from him.

“I ain’t fucking tellin’ you anything.” He laughs before picking up the check and paying for both of them despite Ryan’s protests.

 Their friendship is normal most of the time. They hang out and get coffee together. They’ve exchanged gamer tags and rave about upcoming titles. Ryan makes fun of Evan’s PC set-up. Evan makes fun of his Spotify playlist. Evan especially likes the days when he visits Ryan’s place and gets to play with his new puppy, Tiny, on his living room floor. And Ryan swears, if he gets another meme at three in the fucking morning from Evan, he will break into his house just to throw his phone out the window. It was a nice and chill friendship, like most of the friendships Evan has had. It was normal most of the time.

The lonely nights, however, the lonely nights is where it gets interesting, Evan thinks. Sometimes, there’s tears. Like that one time Ryan knocks on Evan’s door near evening with blood-shot eyes and tear-stained cheeks when Luke’s Groomsmen duties were taking a toll on him. Or that other time when Evan called Ryan in the middle of the night, sobbing about how loving Jonathon’s eyes get when he talks about her and how that will never be directed at him. Or a time more recent when they both couldn’t handle their broken hearts as they sat in Evan’s living room, silently passing a bottle of whiskey, drinking it straight, until there was nothing left. They were the pining hearts club; the club known for making bad decisions. It was nights like these that happen way more often than they liked to admit. And it was these nights that almost always end with Evan straddling Ryan’s lap on whoever’s couch it ends up being. Hips grinding against each other, tongues down each others throat, and the wild need of acceptance. Because if Evan can’t fill himself with Jonathon then he’ll fill himself with Ryan instead. And Ryan knew; Ryan knows what Evan was doing, as he bites the soft spot on Evan’s neck, because somewhere in Ryan’s mind, he was doing the same exact thing. It was a mutual deal to them. A mutual understanding of loneliness in companionship that they transcribed that first night. To make the other gasp their name instead of the name they would’ve been gasping if left alone with their hand and their own devices. To make the other feel a brief sense of sexual pleasure over the heartache. It was enough for them for that night…but Evan couldn’t help but feel a tad pathetic.

“Yeah, it kinda is, huh?” Ryan mumbles into Evan’s untidy hair. Tonight ended in Evan’s bed, Evan curled into Ryan’s bare chest while Ryan’s fingers drummed on Evan’s hips. They cuddled under the covers, legs entangled with the other, something they started to do after their more intimate activities. Evan was a talker after sex and had a tendency to voice his latest thoughts during this time, which he was glad Ryan entertained.

“Wow, thanks for the reassurance Ryan.” Evan half-teases, hearing a low giggle coming from Ryan’s throat above him.

“I’m just being honest, Evan. You’re kinda pathetic but that makes me kinda pathetic too. But…I don’t know? This might sound really, really wrong but I’d rather be kinda pathetic together with you than being pathetic alone.”

Evan hums, agreeing to the statement. He doesn’t know what that says about both of them but he admits it: he’d much rather have good sex, good conversations, and good company over crying alone in his room. They start talking about their day and random occurrences in their life. And when Ryan’s breath starts slowing and he can tell he’s asleep, Evan couldn’t help but agree more with the statement.

 “You talk about Ryan way too much sometimes, dude.” Jonathon teases, knocking Evan’s controller out of his hands and into his lap.

“I do?” Evan tilts his head, questioning. They were both at Evan’s house sitting on his living room couch. It was a common thing they did: Jonathon coming over to Evan’s house with whatever snacks tickled their fancy. Sodas were opened and chips were littered across the coffee table while they were in the middle of a Far Cry run…until Jonathon joked about Ryan. Evan blinked, he didn’t even realize he was talking about Ryan.

“Uhh yeah, bitch.” Jonathon rolls his eyes like it’s obvious. “I’ve barely met the guy a-and I think I know way too much about him because of you.” He snickers and starts counting off on his fingers “Like his favorite color is lime green, and his favorite coffee creamer is French vanilla, he uses women shampoo instead of men’s, he has a whole drawer full of sticky notes, he has an irrational fear of Ferris wheels and now that he is a total boss at Dead by Daylight? Like? We aren’t even playing that game, Evan.” Delirious starts to laugh, bumping his shoulder against his as Evan’s cheeks start to burn.

“I’m sorry, Jon. I guess, I do? I can stop if you want.” Jonathon shakes his head.

“No, it-it’s fine. I just like pointing stuff out is all. He seems like a nice guy and like…” suddenly he takes a deep sigh, putting his own controller on his lap. Jonathon gives him a soft smile and places his hand on Evan’s shoulder. “Look, I know, I know I’ve been busy with Rachel and my brother’s wedding and all that stuff, plus adult friendships just fucking suck anyways, so we haven’t been hanging out as much. So, I’m kinda…happy? I’m happy you have Ryan. He makes you happy.”

“Yeah, I’m glad I met him too.” Evan admits. He’s surprised by the feeling in his stomach, and the warmth in his chest and the truth to his words. But before he can process it, Jonathon is screeching about a bear in-game. Evan shakes his head and throws a grenade to save his ass.

That evening, Evan called Ryan. He asked him what he knew about Jonathon. And when Ryan couldn’t come up with as specific of information as Jon did, he didn’t know what to think of it.

 Evan was nervous. He was so nervous that he couldn’t button the last couple buttons on his shirt and instead twirled them around his fingers. Evan looked good, dressed casually but nice enough to make a good impression. He was due to meet Jonathon in half an hour where they were going to grab some lunch and possibly an arcade afterwards. But Jonathon wasn’t the problem. The problem was that he was going to meet—

“Hey, do you need help in there?” Ryan entered his bathroom. Evan nodded, his heart beating too hard to do anything else. Ryan looped in his buttons before pausing and decided to straighten out his collar as well. Evan let go of the breath he was holding.

“Thanks so much Ryan for coming. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I went alone and third wheeled with them.”

“No problem. Anything for a homie.” Even if Evan was use to the strange things his friend said, didn’t mean it disgusted him any less.

“Okay, can we agree that you never say that ever again?”

“You can’t silence me, man. I will make no such promises.” Ryan stuck his tongue out but then quickly fell serious after seeing Evan’s face. “Do you really have to meet her? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Yes, I really do. He’s one of my best friends and it was going to happen eventually. Besides, I can’t really give him a reason not to meet her.” He really didn’t, without outing himself that is.

“Well, just let me know if you wanna dip out. I’ll just make it my fault, say I feel sick or something and need a ride home from you.”

“Bet?”

“Evan, I’m serious.”

“I know, I know. I just…” Evan sighed, trying to relax. “I’ll keep it in mind. Thanks…homie.”

“Okay, I agree. Let’s never say that again.” Ryan, however, said it ten minutes later.

He can’t hate her. He really can’t. She’s sweet and nice and overall an easy person to talk to. She’s wonderful, emitting an energy that draws you in and Evan can see him being friends with her. He can’t deny the chemistry they have, the electricity in the air. He knows she’ll take good care of Jonathon.

Evan stares from afar, the couple playing a game of skeeball. They’re enjoying themselves, throwing their balls into each others lane until one of them is somehow missing a ball and they don’t know how. Evan smiles at the scene, watching the two searching every inch of the contraption. He felt a hand catch his shoulder, a thumb rubbing it in circles.

“Hey, you okay?” Ryan asked. He must’ve seen him staring. Evan knew it would hurt looking at them but he was surprised that it didn’t hurt as bad. It wasn’t like the night where he had to numb himself with drinks. This hurt was…manageable.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He swiped his fingertips across Ryan’s knuckles reassuringly. He really was fine.

 “I’m an idiot Ryan. A huge idiot.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I totally forgot.”

“Yes, you did.”

“And now I need a suit.”

“And that’s why we’re here, Evan.” They were at the mall, searching the countless racks for an appropriate suit. They bickered between the aisles.

“For the fucking record, Jon never called him Luke. He always says, ‘my brother Cartoonz.’ It’s like a childhood nickname or something. How would I have known it was the same Luke?”

“Common sense. You were invited to a wedding on the same day as the wedding I had to go to, after all.”

“I said I forgot! If Jon and Rachel didn’t remind me, I probably would’ve missed it.” Ryan just tsked at him.

“Evan, for someone as smart as you, you’re pretty damn clueless sometimes.”

“Aww you’re calling me smart?”

“I’m also calling you clueless. Here, this is your size, put this on.” He was handed a hanger and pushed into the changing room. He looked at the contents in his hands and frowned. Man, he forgot how many stupid parts was in a suit. He looked at the mirror after putting it on, twirling and stretching to test it’s comfort. He noted some places that needed adjustments but overall it fit well. Evan opened the door with the suit still on. Ryan probably wanted to see it.

“How does it look?” Evan struck a pose, putting his hands inside his pant pockets. He felt Ryan’s stare but no response. Ryan visibly swallows. Then clears his throat. Then swallows again.

“It, it looks good Evan. Really good. You…should get that one. Yeah.” Evan has never felt the air turn so heavy so quickly before. But the way Ryan’s eyes scanned him caused something to stir in his stomach. He knew what lust looked like on Ryan, how sexual desire appeared on his face. This…was not it.

“Th-thanks. I’m gonna uhh change out now.” He rushed back in, spending a couple more minutes to hush the stirring in his stomach. Ryan wasn’t in the waiting room this time when he walked out. He found him an aisle over, busying himself with a rack of ties. Evan stood next to him, picking out a purple one he thinks would look good. He was glad the air felt clearer than before.

“I can’t believe it’s almost the day…” Ryan whispered more to himself than Evan. It really was the end of the year, huh?

“I’ll be there, Ryan. Remember that. I mean, I have to be there now anyways but if I didn’t I would’ve came if you wanted me too. I’m not letting you go though this alone. So…call? If you need me? We’ll crash another wedding at the venue.” Evan picked out a green tie and put it around Ryan’s neck. It really brought out his eyes.

“No, Evan we aren’t…we are not going to…thanks.” Ryan decided to say instead. “I want you there so it’s okay. It’s just…how does this work? Am I your plus one or are you mine? Do we just both go as singles? What do I write down?”

“Simple. You’re my bitch.”

“Asshole.” Ryan huffed before taking the tie off his neck and walked to the cashier.

 Evan watched the two of them dance in the middle of the dance floor. There were more couples around them dancing to the same steady song but his focus was solely on the pair. They laughed and when one of them dipped the other, Evan’s grip on his glass tightened. He needed more control but this was too familiar. He was anxious. What if someone got hurt again.

“Whoa Evan! Please, please don’t kill the groom! He just…he just got married.”

“What?” Jonathon appeared in his vision, holding his own glass. Rachel was behind him, giving Evan a quick hug before turning to talk to Jonathon’s mom.

“You should see yourself, dude. You have this, this scary look on your face like you’re gonna stab a bitch or something. I know you have a giant crush on Ryan but don’t kill my brother! Imagine the betrayal!”

“N-no, it’s not like that. I-you don’t understand. I’m just-I don’t have a crush on Ryan I-“ have a crush on you. He wanted to finish in his head. But for some reason it didn’t settle right in his chest. It hasn’t settled right for awhile now, he noticed. When he thought about Jonathon, it wasn’t the scorching blaze lapping at his chest like it was before. It was more like a soft heat, a faded one. Like a forgotten campfire that was dying from the lack of kindle.

“Hey Jonathon, do you mind if I borrow Evan for a little bit?”

“Take the mess away.” Jonathon snickers while taking the glass away from Evan and skittering away to entertain other guests. Ryan now stood in front of Evan alone. Maybe it was the playful smirk that he could never swipe off his face or the suit that fit his body too well. Or his hair that swept to the side. Or maybe it was the softness in his eyes, the way they prioritized him, as the ballroom lights danced across its greenness. Ryan extended his hand towards him. It left Evan out of breath and his heart burning…

It was Ryan. It was all Ryan.

Evan grabbed his hand and was brought to the dance floor.

“How are you doing?” Ryan asked, placing a hand on the small of his back and the other on his shoulder.

“No, how are you doing? I saw you and Luke dancing…”

“Were you worried for me?”

“Of course, dumbass.” Evan scrunched his face. How could he not be worried?

“Well, I’ll have you know, I’m perfectly fine. It went well. We just fooled around and talked.” Ryan spun Evan around once before they continued swaying again. “We talked a lot about you actually…”

“M-me? Why?”

“Evan.” They stop and lock gazes. Ryan’s hand slips up the curve of Evan’s cheek.

And suddenly, they’re kissing. The first time they ever kissed in front of people and not the isolation of their homes. There was no desperate need in it, no clawing to feel something. It was intricate and light and tingled from the softness. Evan wanted to press on, get lost in the feeling of Ryan’s lips but they disappeared a moment too soon.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Evan.” Ryan stepped back. Evan was confused and a little disoriented. He was floating and it took some time for his mind to come back to Earth. “I should’ve asked before I did that. I don’t want to force you into anything and I didn’t ask how you define us…I just…I wanted to prove something to myself. I was being selfish. I don’t know when it started. I really don’t. I don’t think it really matters. But when we kiss…it’s you. It’s only you. What…what about you? What do you see?” Old habits really did die hard.

“What do I see? I see two idiots who should really get over themselves and stop this pining thing. Because I see just you, Ryan. I see only you, too.” Evan caught Ryan’s surprise expression that slowly dissolved into a smile. He was smiling too, unable to hide the feeling of bliss off his face.

“Two idiots, huh?”

“Yup.” Ryan moves in again, placing his hands so they cradled Evan’s face.

“You can’t be more romantic, Evan?” Their foreheads start leaning into each other.

“Nope. I can’t be all feely and shit like you.”

“Can you at least try?” Evan hugs Ryan closer.

“Just kiss me breathless again, asshole.” Ryan didn’t need to be asked twice, capturing Evan’s lips between his own. The world muted around them, they were too engulfed in each other to notice anything else. But nothing else mattered at that moment. In their mind, it was only them.

#banana writes #banana bus squad #vanohm #ohmnoss #that last line always gets to me lol its so cute

[realsantanalopez-blog]

Pizza Party

Who: Finn, Brittany, Marley, Mercedes, and Santana

When: Sunday, 14 May 2017

Where: NYC Pizzeria

What: Finn’s first NYC Pizza and (some) cast bonding

Being in New York for the first time was as exciting as Finn had always thought. They were staying at the W Hotel in Times Square, and they didn’t have any events to get to until the next day. So he thought the perfect way to start that off since Rachel was still busy, was with some New York style pizza for dinner. He made his way down to the lobby to wait for the girls to meet him, pulling out his phone so he could find a nearby place. He thought they could walk, and he didn’t feel like they needed an Uber or taxi.

Mercedes got out of the elevator and made her way into the lobby, finding Finn easily. She was excited to be back in NYC, even if she had some mixed emotions about being here with Sam in the vicinity, but she’d deal.  “Hey, you having fun yet?” She teased him as she nudged him softly.  “Who else is coming with us?”

Marley was kind of excited to be back in New York, while she enjoyed LA, she missed living in the City, so it was like a breath of fresh air. Even if the air in New York wasn’t that fresh. She spent some time with her friends, before heading back to the Hotel for pizza. Spotting Finn, and Mercedes, Marley grinned, bouncing up to them. “Hey, guys! Who’s down for pizza?!” Santana hadn’t gotten the best start with Finn, and was still getting to know most of her castmates, so pizza seemed like the perfect solution. Hopefully they’d all get a chance to get to know each other and bond. She made her way to the hotel lobby and walked up to the little group with a smile on her face. “I’m down for pizza,” she replied, catching Marley’s greeting. “I’m always down for pizza, if we’re being honest here.”

Brittany’s current musical obsession blared through her bluetooth headphones as she danced down the hall toward the lobby. She was ready to get her party on in the city that never sleeps. New York was one of her favorite cities and she always had a great time whenever she was there, so she was determined to make this trip one of many fun trips to NYC. When the pizza idea came up, Britt jumped on the chance to hang out with her new TV family, they were going to have to spend time together if they were going to end up like a real family. She was hoping that pizza would lead to a great first night in the city. Once she’d arrived she pulled her headphones out of her ears and waived at the group. “Hey sexy people! I’m starving so this was a good idea. Good job,Finn.”

Finn never actually got a chance to answer Mercedes’ question because everyone had come down shortly after her. So he just let them do the talking for a moment. He was a little surprised to see Santana, but he remember what Mercedes had said about Santana coming around. He was starting to think that maybe Mercedes was right about he which made him feel better. “I’m starving too. I’ve never had New York pizza because I’ve never been to New York before. So, I thought maybe we could walk around and find a pizza place. I have a few that came up on my phone.”

“Sounds good,” she smiled at everyone, making sure she not to leave anyone out. Being around so many gorgeous people was not a bad way to spend an evening, plus pizza only added to the goodness.  “I’m going to do some shopping while I’m here too before I leave, you may not care to tag along on that trip, Groot.  But if any of you ladies are game, just let me know. I am on the hunt for some cute espadrilles.”

“Hey!” Marley said to Brittany, and Santana, before glancing over at Finn. “I cannot believe you have never been to New York before.” She said quietly, sure, she knew that a lot of people haven’t been, but this took her by surprise. “You have to see all you can while we’re here. I kind of want to catch Amelie before it closes too..” She said quietly glancing over at Mercedes. “I am always down for shopping.” “We can probably just start in any direction and end up getting to a pizza place,” she told Finn. “They’re all over.” At the mention of going shopping, her face almost lit up. “I’m in for that shopping trip. I’m always in need for new, cute clothes and shoes.” Santana had planned to go shopping while in New York anyway, so it was good that she’d have at least one other person to go with.

Brittany scrunched her nose up when the mention of shopping came up. She didn't mind watching her hot friends try on clothes, especially if they also let her see them take the clothes off, but shopping wasn't her favorite activity and she really was starving. “Well I guess shopping before food is okay.” A pout fell onto her lips but quickly lifted when a thought came to her. She moved next to Finn and bumped his hip with hers. “It can be a cool way for you to see a little of the city and if they take too long I can kidnap you and you can buy me a pre-pizza snack.”

“Um...I think they meant a different day,” Finn replied before turning to Mercedes. “You didn’t mean shopping right now, right?” He really didn’t want to go shopping. Plus, he had plenty of clothes. He didn’t need more. He’d go if they all really wanted to go, but he didn’t really want to. He only ever liked shopping for things like video games and electronics and stuff.

She giggled softly and shook her head,”Oh no, definitely not going shopping now. I wouldn’t torture you like that.” She smiled at Brittany. “Food will always come before shopping, never doubt that.”  Mercedes looked at Marley and Santana, “Now you two little model body ladies will have more fun with clothes shopping than me probably, I’m more of a shoe fiend.” When most of the clothes in the store don’t fit your body shape, you adjust your attention.  She had learned that over the years. This way she still got to have fun with the girls and not feel left out.

“Yeah, shopping would be another day.” Marley repeated. She had a few things planned while they were in town, but she could fit that in. Glancing over at Mercedes, Marley wrinkled her nose. “Oh please. I'm sure we could find something for you! They have so many options, though shoes are great too!”

Santana smiled over at Brittany when she questioned shopping before pizza. “Don’t worry, B. I think we’re all planning to go straight for the pizza.” Her head turned to look at Mercedes when she heard her talking. “Come on, we’ll definitely be able to find something hot for you in the city. Though I’m always down to join you on a shoe hunt so it’s up to you.” She would have to do some research online beforehand so that she could suggest some good stores for all of them.

“Well that's good because hangry Britt is not a pretty sight, hot, but definitely not pretty.” Brittany shrugged before turning her attention over to Mercedes. “You're model bodied. I'd watch you model and you super sexy body. Bam! Model bodied. If you’re looking to get your model on …” She mouthed the words ‘call me’ as she made a telephone with her right hand wiggled her eyebrows. Brittany smirked for a moment before her stomach started to growl and she looked around at the group pitifully. “Feed me Seymours, feed me”

Finn could only stare at Brittany wide-eyed as she hit on his best friend. As far as he knew, Mercedes wasn’t into other girls, but Brittany was hot. If he was a girl, she’d maybe make him think about it. “We should...probably start walking,” he suggested, leading them away from the front of the hotel and heading left on the block.

Mercedes snapped her fingers and smiled brightly. “Okay then, I see I got a girl squad already, I like this.  Thanks, sometimes I still get a little insecure with this whole public stuff.  Y’all are cool ladies.” She looped one arm through Finn’s and then another through Santana’s. “Alright, let’s go find pizza and look amazing while doing it.”

“Shit, I love you already,” she told Mercedes with a laugh. She was definitely the type of person that Santana saw herself being good friends with. Santana grabbed Brittany’s hand with the one she had free. “Every Britt is hot, not just the hungry one.” It was much more fun to be walking around the city with friends than it would’ve been if she’d stayed alone.

Brittany’s bottom lip jutted outward when Mercedes didn't seem to pay her any attention. She didn't even get a laugh out of her. At least they were closer to getting food. Britt looked down at he hand the hand that enclosed around hers and then up to the person it belonged to and couldn't help but smile. “Damn straight!” She chuckled and kissed Santana on the cheek before raising her free hand in the air. “Onward and Pizza!”

It felt so weird because now it seemed like Santana was hitting on Brittany. Maybe not, but Finn hadn’t really been around girls that did stuff like that. “Um...so anyway, anyone know any fun things to do around New York? I feel completely overwhelmed by like all the choices. I don’t wanna miss anything, but there’s like too much to do in a week.”

Mercedes felt like she had missed something, but everyone seemed to be happy, so maybe it was just in her head. She thought Brittany and Santana looked rather gorgeous together, but she didn’t know their business like that. Granted, Santana and Brittany would upgrade pretty much anyone, they were just that pretty. “I’ve only been here while working, so I didn’t go to a lot of places. They do have lots of clubs, and gorgeous art museums too. And of course Broadway.”

Santana was happy to see that everyone was in a good mood. This trip wasn’t for any fights or awkward situations. “I’d hit Times Square if it’s your first time here. That usually has all of the good, interesting shit to look at. Depends on what you’re into.” She nodded towards a pizza place a little while ahead of them. “There we go. We can probably stop in there.”

“Let’s go to Brooklyn! They have the best places to dance because all the cool kids hang out there.” There was a ton to do in Manhattan for sure but Brittany felt bad for the other Boroughs. People didn't love them as much and it wasn't their fault. She followed Santana’s line of sight and ran ahead toward the food mumbling something about slow pokes.

There were so many sights to see that Finn nearly missed the pizzeria ahead of them. “Yes! Pizza! I feel like a Ninja Turtle…” He picked up his speed a little as his stomach led him in the direction of the food. “I don’t really like museums that much, but I would still go to one with you, ‘Cedes…” he offered. It wasn’t shopping, and pretty much anything beat that.

When Brittany took off towards the pizzeria, she couldn’t help but start laughing.  “She was not joking when she said she was hungry.  Santana is right, definitely soak up Times Square, seeing it at night is like super eye candy with all the lights.”  She had to almost jog to keep up with his faster, longer strides.  “I bet if we looked, they probably have a cool one, with stuff we like. Or a cool comic book place.” She liked doing things with Finn, he was easy going and they always had fun.

“Wait for us, B,” she called out with a laugh as her friend ran ahead. Santana looked over at Finn with a smile at the Ninja Turtle comment. “I get to be Raphael though since I look amazing in red.” Santana sped up her pace a bit so that she could reach the pizza place with the rest of them. “How long have you two known each other? You seem like old friends,” she asked Finn and Mercedes.

Britt turned around and began to walk backward to be sure she didn’t lose anyone in the group. “I hope they have the giant slices as big as your head. Also…” She cupped her hands around her mouth to amplify her words, though the others weren’t too far behind. “I love the Ninja Turtles! I’m Donatello because he’s a scientist like I am AND my turtle is named Donatello!.” She was so into what she was saying she forgot to check for people as backwards walked into the pizza parlor. “Oops. I’m sorry. You’re really pretty, Sir. I’m sorry” She called after a man who’d given her a dirty look.

Finn blinked and looked at Santana in surprise. “You know the Ninja Turtles? Out of the two left, that would make me Michelangelo because Mercedes is totally Leonardo…” He grinned at his friend and bumped her with his hip. “We’ve been best friends for like four years…She’s my second favorite lady.”

“You okay, Brittany?” Mercedes asked, seeing the accidental collision.  She raised her eyebrow as the conversation turned to TMNT. “Oh this is...how did I end up as Leo?” She laughed and shook her head. “He is the only guy I will allow to call me his second favorite and not get kicked in the kneecaps,” she teased. “Oh wow, it smells mouthwatering, let’s get our grub on.”

Santana laughed when Finn seemed to be surprised. “I’m not completely oblivious.” It was a fair assumption for him to make though, since she hadn’t seen the Guardians of the Galaxy movies. When she noticed Brittany and the random man, she practically jumped forward to make sure the stranger didn’t say anything. He would’ve regretted it pretty quickly. “That’s super cute though. Is your first favorite a sister or something?” She headed towards the counter with the rest of them so they could order their slices.

It was moments like those that proved to her they should offer walking collision insurance and even though Brittany had suggested to a number of insurance companies no one had taken her seriously. She shrugged and flashed a smile in Mercedes’ direction. “I’m good. I was just afraid I hurt him with all of my awesome muscles I’ve aquired from being basically the best dancer ever. But looks like he’s fine.” She shrugged and winked at Santana before taking Mercedes’ hand. “What are you getting? Finn said he was treating so you should probably try toppings you’re not sure about, because if you don’t like them then you’re not wasting your own money and you can go back and get more.”

“No, my mom, she raised me all by herself after my dad died right after I was born,” he answered as he walked up to the glass where the pizza was displayed. “This all looks so good.” He was starving. “Yeah, get whatever you want. I don’t mind. I’ll eat the pizza you don’t like.” He was sure he could put it away.

“Hmmm, I usually just get cheese or pepperoni. Should I do something really different, like the artichoke and fennel?” She asked Brittany, squeezing her hand softly. She normally wasn’t one for having people touch her, but the blonde seemed so sweet that she just went along with it.  “What are you going to get?”  She looked over at Finn and Santana talking and she smiled, glad that they seemed to be getting along well.  “Hey Marley, get up here,” she said as she waved her up. Marley grinned over at them, and opened her mouth to respond when she got a text from her mother. Stopping for a moment, she frowned, reading the text message, and pressed her lips together, getting completely lost in the reply when she heard her name called. Closing the phone, she jogged up to catch up with them. “Sorry..” She said, her lips still pressed together. She was sure everything was fine. “Brooklyn Pizza, right?” Santana frowned a bit at Finn’s response. “Sorry… That’s sweet though.” It was always weird when she accidentally brought up a touchy subject; or what could’ve been a touchy subject. She spun her head around to look at Marley as the other girl approached. “Everything okay?” She’d been on the quiet side lately, and as her designated fake older sister, Santana felt pretty protective over her.

Brittany pursed her lips as she contemplated possible toppings. “I think you should definitely get both artichoke and fennel but I’m just going to get cheese and pepperoni. I know what I like.” She smiled and winked before turning toward Marley. She was about to part her lips to say Marley should get something new too but the girl seemed frowny and Brittany’s mirrored in response. She walked over and gave the girl a hug without prompting. “Yes, Brooklyn Pizza. It’ll make you smile again. Pizza makes everyone happy, even if only temporarily.”

Finn stopped paying attention to all of them as he focused on which pizza he wanted to order. “I think I’m getting the Hawaiian. That’s the best kind.” It was his favorite kind of pizza. “Oh, and I want a slice of pepperoni. Then I might come back for something else.” He scratched at his chin and told his order to the guy behind the counter, then told him that he’d be paying for the others as well.

“Could you give us a moment to decide?” Mercedes said to the man at the counter before turning to the other girls. Santana had already asked, so she wasn’t going to do the same, but she was concerned as well.  “If you need to talk, we’re all here to listen, okay?”  She spotted a table in the corner with 5 chairs. “Hey sweetie, could you go guard that table for us?” She asked Finn.

She was taken back for a moment, and forced a smile. “Yeah..” She said quietly, glancing down at her phone for a moment, and biting her lip. She was naturally a wallflower, the only time she really liked attention when she was performing. Still, she hugged Brittany back, and smiled at the blond, before pulling back, and brushing her hair out of her face. “I want bacon and pineapple..” She commented over at Finn, biting her lips. “It’s just family drama. Now that I’m ‘famous’ it’s just…” She wrinkled her brow, thinking of her words. “Causing issues, I guess.” Noticing that Marley was a little uncomfortable with the spotlight, she dropped the subject on her end and made a mental note to ask her later on. Santana turned back to the man helping them behind the counter and gave him a smile. “Can I just get a spinach slice?” She focused on the group while the guy disappeared to pop the first couple in the oven. Hearing Mercedes call Finn sweetie made her raise an eyebrow. “Have you guys ever dated?”

Brittany stepped back giving Marley room but she eye’d the girl for a moment wondering if somehow she could will herself to use the other 90 percent of her brain to read the other woman’s mind so she could figure out what she needed to do to make things better. When she settled on that day not being the day she mastered the full power of her brain she sighed. “Families can be messy.” She gave a small and what she hoped was a slightly comforting smile before walking back over to the counter. “Can I have the cheesiest slice of cheese pizza you have and a pepperoni? Please and thank you.” When she heard the mentioning of dating Brittany turned toward the two people in question with a huge smile on her face. She loved juicy gossip.

“Uh yeah, I can do that. Here.” He handed his bank card over to Mercedes so that she could pay. He wouldn’t have trusted anyone else except her with his card. He walked over to to the empty table with six seats and sat down hoping they didn’t take too long so that nobody took the chairs from the table.

Seeing as she was the only one that hadn’t ordered, she smiled at the gentleman behind the counter. “Thank you for being so patient, could I get a slice of artichoke and fennel, and one with cheese?” That way if she didn’t like the new flavor, she had her go to as well.”  She used Finn’s card to pay for everyone’s food and then she shook her head at Santana. “Finn and me? No, not at all. We’re just really close. We have a good friend in common, and that’s how we met. Sort of, I mean, yeah.” She was thankful for all the melanin in her skin at that moment because she knew her cheeks were probably doing that weird rosey, blush crap that happened when she thought about Evans. And she was not trying to go there. “Hey, first few orders are up, I’ll take Finn’s to him.” She said as she picked up his plate and took it over to him, giving him back his card as well.

Marley was kind of glad they seemed to drop it. She wondered if it came off rude, but she wasn’t going to bring it up right now. Nodding her head, she sighed. “No kidding.” She smiled over at Brittany, and squeezed her hand, before turning her attention back to Mercedes, and Santana. She noticed Mercedes was blushing, and she tilted her head to the side, but kept her mouth shut. Grabbing her pizza, she followed them to the table, and sat down. “Oh I’ve missed New York pizza.”

Santana nodded as Mercedes explained her friendship with Finn. It made sense. “That’s cool though.” She grabbed the next couple of slices that they’d ordered and brought those over to the table before grabbing one of the seats. “Finn, remind me that I owe you… something. I’m not sure what, but I need to make us even again.” Santana smiled over at the only guy in their group.

Brittany grabbed her two slices of pizza and walked over to the table to join everyone. Before she sat down she kissed Finn on the tip of his nose and smiled. “Thanks Finn. Free food is my favorite type of food. You're the best.” Brittany looked around the table making sure no one’s pizza looked more appealing than hers. When she was satisfied she picked up her slice of pepperoni, folded it in half and took a big bite.

“You don’t owe me anything,” he assured Santana. Even if she tried to pay him back he wouldn’t take it. It wasn’t because he wanted her to owe him a favor or anything. He didn’t like that kind of stuff. He was treating everyone to pizza, not just Santana. He took the plate from Mercedes and his ard, then slipped it back into his wallet before eagerly biting into his slice.

After getting her own pizza, Mercedes joined the group.  She smiled when she heard Finn’s response to Santana, she wasn’t surprised by his words, that was just the kind of guy Finn was as a person. He didn’t do things for payback or to hold it over your head, he did it because he wanted to. “I think even Puck would be jealous of you right now, surrounded by a bevvy of hot chicks, and you didn’t have to spit some lame pick-up line.”  She said with a laugh before taking a bite of her pizza.

She wanted to argue with what Finn said, but she let it go for now. She simply made a mental note to get him something in the future. “Though I’m dying to hear your best pick-up lines,” Santana added to what Mercedes had said. Some of them were pretty funny and she felt like Finn was the type of guy to know them, but not really use them. She picked up her slice of pizza, folded it over, and then started to eat along with the rest of them.

Brittany’s ears perked up again at the words ‘pick-up lines’. “Oooo that would be a fun game. Best and worst pick up lines in your repertoire. Let’s play. I’ll go first. Okay so my best pick up line. ‘Hey’” She followed with a wink to the group. “Works every time. Oh and my best worst pick-up line. ‘I’ve lost my teddy bear. Can I sleep with you instead?’ It’s not mine, I plagiarized it, but sometimes it’s more true than a pick-up line.” Brittany shrugged. “Who’s next?”

Finn shrugged and shifted a little. “I don’t really use pickup lines. I didn’t know they were really a thing. I guess…’Hi, I’m Finn Hudson. What’s your name?’ has always worked for me. I don’t get turned down too often.” He glanced at Brittany then Mercedes and grinned a little, his dimples growing more pronounced.

“Now y’all don’t laugh, but I really don’t have any pick-up anything skills,” she said with a slight shrug. “Last date I went on was some meeting arranged by my manager, and that was like...almost a year ago?  I mean, I would just go over and say hi if I thought a guy was interested I guess.  Oh, but I did have a guy try to get my number by saying he thought I was built so fine that only he could truly appreciate all my ass. Yeah, that didn’t work.” She wrinkled her nose slightly as she remembered that encounter.

Marley sat down to eat her pizza, and she listened to the others talk, when they mentioned pick up lines, she smirked slightly to herself, giggling at the lines. “I like that one.” She told Brittany. “My ex used a pick up line.. We were like fourteen, but he asked me if heaven was missing an angel, because it was heaven on earth here.. Or something like that..” She shook her head, it was funny at the time. She laughed, and blushed at the time. “Though yeah. I wouldn’t say that one worked either. Merc.” Santana chuckled a bit at Finn’s lack of a pickup line. “Oh really now?” She wondered if she’d give in to his simple line. Probably. Her eyes grew wide as she heard that line that Mercedes had been told. “Holy shit, no way. Some guys are so fucking ballsy, it’s insane.” It was also pretty entertaining. “Someone once tried using ‘kissing burns five calories a minute, wanna workout?’ on me, but I turned them down. He was kinda gross.”

Laughing, Finn shifted in his seat. “I think that’s a great pickup line. It’s so funny. I feel like if a guy comes up to you and says a pickup line, he’s probably nervous...or he’s Puck. Like I don’t think anyone believes what they say. They’re just trying to...you know, break the ice….maybe make the girl laugh. It’s not easy to walk up to a girl and just ask for her phone number. She could think you’re ugly. She could have a boyfriend. Her boyfriend could be...like standing right there. I’m not saying guys aren’t jerks sometimes, but like sometimes we’re just nervous.”

“Aww, that was adorable,” Mercedes said in reply to Marley’s story. “Cheesy, but adorable for a teenager.”  She took a sip of her water and just shook her head as she listened to Santana. “Why do they think we want to immediately make-out or have sex? I mean, can I get your name before you try and get me out my clothes? And I get being nervous, but that’s why a man should do his research before approaching a woman. Don’t stalk her, but be considerate and just be yourself. If she wants to talk more, she will let you know.”  Not that Finn really needed tips or anything, it was more of a general statement.

“Yeah, like, they should just do something asking for our name. But of course guys jump to sex or something.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t really care, since I either chat with them or walk away… But still.” Santana finished her slice of pizza and then grabbed a few napkins to clean up a bit. “You can usually tell when they’re nervous. It’s cute.”

Finn nodded. “That’s why I don’t use them. If I wanna break the ice, I just say hi and introduce myself and then I just make a joke.” He grinned. “I made a joke when I first met Mercedes because she scared me. She’s like crazy talented and...sassy. And when I met her, I’d heard all of this great stuff. I got her to laugh. We’ve been best friends ever since.” He paused and thought about how that hadn’t worked with Santana. “It doesn’t always work with everyone.”

Mercedes snickered as she remembered the first time she had met Finn. “You were nervous? I was the one freaking out. I don’t know about guys, but with girls, if your best friend doesn’t like the person you’re dating, things are not going to go well.  So I was freaking out a bit, and then here is this redwood tree of a man cracking jokes, definitely broke the ice.” She nudged him with her elbow and smiled. “And I am not that sassy...most of the time.”

Santana smiled while she listened to Finn and Mercedes share about when they first met. Their friendship was cute. “Wait, so you guys met when you were dating his friend? And you’re still friends? That’s awesome.” Usually she lost any mutual friends when the relationship, or friends with benefits agreement, was over. It was a little awkward when Finn mentioned his jokes didn’t work with anyone. The two of them had had a rough start.

“Well yeah, of course, just because she’s not dating S-my friend anymore doesn’t mean that I didn’t want to be her friend anymore. We hung out all of the time for like two years straight. I’d miss her way too much,” he said truthfully. “Plus, how often do you meet a girl that likes nerdy stuff, can game, and is really funny? Most girls are annoyed when I wanna go see Marvel movies. Mercedes usually has tickets before I do.”

“Finn is just, he’s such a sweet guy, it was easy to be around him and we always had fun. And yes, me being a nerd didn’t hurt either.  I blame that on my older brother by the way,” she said with a laugh before a face became more somber.  “We didn’t hang out as much for awhile, mostly because I needed time after things went to hell.  I did that whole throw yourself into work after a breakup thing, but he was patient and never made me feel bad about it.”  She finished her pizza, and took a deep breath, noticing Finn had stopped himself from mentioning his friend by name.

“You guys seem like you’d make a really good couple… You’ve really never tried or thought about it before?” The way they talked about each other seemed to be something that she’d never experienced before… without something on the side. Santana looked between the two of them, eyebrow raised. Now she was curious to know about their past, and to find out who Mercedes’ ex was.

Finn shook his head. “No way, it’s not like that. I mean, it’s not that I don’t think Mercedes is hot. She is, but we’re just like I don’t wanna say brother and sister because I just said she was hot, but maybe like...adopted cousins or something.” He’d never even considered it. Plus, even though he knew it would never happen, he’d always hoped that Mercedes would get back with Sam. He knew why it would never happen, didn’t blame Mercedes one bit for not wanting it, but he still hoped.

“Oh no. I mean, Finn is very handsome and sweet, but that would be way too weird.” She said with a soft laugh. “He’s definitely more like extended family. A play cousin. Twice removed.” And as much as she hated to admit, she would never do that to him. “Plus, he has his eyes on someone else, and I’ve gotta make sure she meets the Mercedes lady friend test, when it’s time.” She winked at Finn.

Santana nodded along as they explained it a bit more. “I guess that makes sense. Some people just don’t really click on a physical level or whatever.” For something to do, she leaned back against her seat and ran her fingers through her hair. “So... “ She wasn’t sure what to talk about, and she felt like it was going in a weird direction.

“So...somebody else talk. I feel bad like we took over the whole conversation. Didn’t meant to.” He scratched the back of his neck. “This pizza is awesome, by the way.” He glanced at Marley. “Marley, you used to live here in New York, right? Are you going to do anything special while you’re here?”

Mercedes nodded her head eagerly. “Yes please, someone else talk. Now that y’all know way more about the two of us than you ever wanted to know.” She definitely didn’t want to be a conversation hog. One good thing, Santana and Finn seemed way more friendly to each other than they had been at the movies. Hopefully that would continue, she liked Santana. She liked Brittany and Marley too, which eased her mind so much. Last time she was on a show with a lot of girls, it got really nasty really fast. Competition brought out the ugly in people.

Marley glanced back and forth between the conversation, piping in occasionally as she ate/picked at her pizza. She dazed out for a moment, when Finn mentioned her living here. Smiling at him, she nodded her head. “Yeah, I am going to go see Amelie the musical with some friends, and grabbing drinks.” She said, she kind of missed New York, though LA was great too. She looked over at Marley as the conversation turned to her and the city. “Are you from here? Or did you just move recently for work stuff?” Santana realized that she didn’t actually know too much about her new friends. Maybe she should do some research on their past roles and stuff. “Let me know if Amelie’s amazing. I wanted to go, but I just didn’t have the time and shit.”

Finn was content to stay quiet and let everyone else around him talk. He knew Santana didn’t really like him. So she was probably ready for him to shut up. So he took the opportunity to stuff his face full of delicious pizza.

Mercedes listened as the other girls talked, not wanting to jump in seeing as she had talked forever already.  She occasionally looked over at Finn, biting her lower lip slightly to keep from giggling as he immersed himself in his tasty pizza.

:Oh? No, I moved here when I was seventeen. I was on Broadway.. Well.. off Broadway. I’m originally from Colorado, but I moved here at seventeen.” She felt like that was ages ago, and now look at her. “But I kind of consider New York my home at this point.” Santana smiled as Marley mentioned considering New York her home. “I get that. I actually grew up a bit outside of the city… So it would’ve been cool if we grew up near each other.” She felt weird talking about her actual home considering her current relationship with her parents, but it was all still true.

“I think Rachel’s from here too. I think that’s what she said. I know she lived here before the show. She was actually in a show after we wrapped the pilot. I can’t remember the name right now.” He felt bad. He wished he could’ve seen her in it. He bet she was really good in it.

She thought it was neat how people from all over could meet, and then find out they were from the same state or close by.  “New York City must’ve been a big change from Colorado I imagine?” She asked Marley.

“Really? That is pretty cool. It would have been interesting if we met before.” Picking a piece of bacon, she nodded her head. “Oh it was, I knew I wanted to live in New York City since I was five years old, so it was kind of a natural progress from there, but when I first got here, I was pretty surprise. It’s huge, but I made friends, and it slowly became home, you know?” “Oh yeah, it was something about apples,” she mentioned when Finn brought up the show Rachel was in. “I don’t remember the name either.” Santana waited for Marley to be finished talking about New York before turning to look at the other girl, a slight tilt to her head. “You still upset about earlier?” She noticed that Marley was picking more than eating.

Mercedes had missed out on a lot of information having come after everyone else had met and done table reads and filmed the pilot, so she couldn’t comment on what show they were talking about, but she did pick up on Santana asking Marley about earlier.  She didn’t want to make the girl feel uncomfortable, so she focused her attention on Finn so Marley wouldn’t feel like all eyes were on her.  “So are you two going to find some non-work related time to hang out while you’re here?” She asked him quietly.

“Apples?” Marley asked, trying to figure out what show it was, but hadn’t a clue. Glancing up at Santana, Marley shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Just not that hungry.” She admitted, glancing over at Mercedes, and silently thanking her for changing the subject. “You should do some tourist stuff. I always liked doing that when I wanted to kill time, but didn’t know what to do.” Santana accepted Marley’s answer. It was completely understandable. She instead turned her attention back on the current topic. “It’s always fun to just walk around the city and check out the different shops and odd shit you discover. There’s no way you’d get bored since you can’t explore the entire city in just a few days.”

“Um...that’s the plan.” He didn’t want to get too much into what he and Rachel had planned with like Marley, Santana, and Brittany there. “But I’m not going to that many parties. So I have a lot of time to just go out and explore. I really wanna go to the Empire State Building. Oh and I heard there’s a restaurant that makes like all this chocolate stuff. So I’m gonna check that out too.”

“You must know of some really awesome clubs around here,” Mercedes said to Santana. “Not all the frufru ones that are lined with pretty people that just stand around and wait to be seen. Actual dance clubs?” She definitely wanted to hit one of those up if time allowed. “Gotta find a man that can keep up with me on the dance floor.” She was mostly joking about that part.

“Max Brenner is the chocolate bar… Unless you meant a different one?” She smiled over at Finn and then back to Mercedes. “I really like Stage 48 for the dance vibes. Although it might be tough to find a guy that can keep up with you. You’re just the best.” Santana laughed a little bit. “Feeling more Latin dancey, I’d say go to Bembe. It’s pretty lit.”

“See, I really like you, you must stay always,” Mercedes laughed. “I will definitely check them out if I can. Heaven knows I haven’t found one yet, but sometimes looking is part of the fun.” She just loved to dance, and it’s always good to share similar activities with someone you’re interested in. “What are you going to try and do while we’re here?”

Santana laughed at that. “I try my best.” Maybe she’d try to head to one of the clubs before they left too. They were always a good time, and it seemed like they’d be a lot of fun with Mercedes. “I’m not actually sure. Probably just catch up with some old friends and hit up as many old spots as I can. What about you?”

“I’m going to dance. Not just in a club. I have a friend who runs a dance studio and I'm going to teach a class at the butt crack of dawn.” That was actually one of the things Brittany was most excited about surprising some tiny humans and teaching them a few things. “I’m always up for a club or a bar though. Night time in NYC is the best time. So take me with you when you are looking for your dancing man who can keep up with. I promise not to cock block” Brittany beamed before taking another bite of food.

“Clubs aren’t really my thing because I can’t dance...like at all. Mercedes tried to teach me once, and I’m pretty sure that I stepped on her feet like ten times. So I think I should probably not dance,” Finn said with a sheepish grin.

“That would be fun, a ladies night out.” She laughed at the cock block comment. “Girl please, if we’re out on the dance floor guys will be too busy staring.”  She patted Finn’s shoulder.  “Seven, but who’s counting?” She teased. “But you have other awesome qualities, so not being the next Michael Flatley isn’t that big a deal. She did date Sam afterall, and he was strictly a two-step guy, but at least he was on the beat.  “Think we can get the other girls in on the idea?”

“A girls night out sounds perfect,” she agreed. “I’m sure the others will be down to go too. If not, then they’re boring and we don’t want them out with us anyway.” Santana shrugged a shoulder at that. She knew she might not be the best of friends with the entire cast and she’d accepted that. “I’m sure I’d be able to help you though, Finn. I’ve taught some pretty stiff guys at the club.”

“You can come to my class if you want. If you don't mind waking up before the sun does. Is just going to be 7 - 12 year olds and they still probably dance better than you, but we’d all help you and then you’d be Savion Glover’ing it up in no time. But only if you want, if you don't really like dancing that's okay too.” Brittany honestly loved teaching people to dance. Something magical happened when someone could do something that they couldn't do before, and she helped make that happen for people. She was a dance wizard without a wand. She also hated feeling pressured to do or be something she didn't want so even though it would be weird to not want to dance weird was okay too. “Girls night! Ow ow! Everyone should come even the guys.”

He was surprised by Santana and Brittany’s offers, especially Santana's, but he smiled graciously. “Thanks for the offers, but I think like I'm more of a barely move my feet, tiny-dancing kind of guy. And I'm okay with that! Honest engine, I only care about having rhythm when it comes to drumming, and I'm really good at drumming.”

She smiled as she listened to Brittany talk about dancing and teaching the little ones. It was so nice to see someone who truly had a passion for something they loved, and it was clear she had that for dancing. “He is an amazing drummer. I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten snatched up by a band yet.”  She didn’t meant to, but she almost giggle-snorted with Santana’s comment. “Girl you messy, but you’re not wrong.”

Santana nodded in Finn’s direction. “That’s totally fine… Though I’m pretty curious as to what tiny dancing actually is.” With that she laughed a little bit. She leaned towards the table a little bit, scrunching up her nose when Mercedes mentioned what she had said. “Hey, I say my shit straight up.” She also was a little curious about Finn’s drumming talent, drummers were pretty hot, but she kept the part to herself.

“Here. I’ll show you,” Finn said easily. He picked up his napkin and wiped at his hands and mouth before he sat back and started moving his shoulders in very small, isolated motions. He added his fingers in, keeping the movements as small as possible like he was listening to the best song ever. He grinned at the girls and then stopped dancing. “That’s how you tiny dance.”

Mercedes respected Santana’s reply and take on things. She imagined it ruffled feathers at times, but that was on the person receiving the end result not the person saying it.  When she saw Finn getting prepared for his trademark moves she just shook her head and grinned. He was an adorable tree, just like Groot.  “It’s even more impressive when music is playing and lights to emphasize the movements.”

Marley glanced back and forth between them, taking a sip of her water, and just enjoying the company. When Finn began dancing, she giggled. “Sorry, I never heard it called tiny dancing.” She smiled, leaning back in her chair. “We did a lot of dancing on stage. Everything had to be in sync, so it was kind of insane, but I did ballet for years, so it kind of prepares you for that.” She bit her lip while she watched Finn demonstrate his dance. “That was truly amazing,” she told him. It oddly fit who he was in a good way. Santana furrowed her eyebrows and looked over at Marley. “What show were you in again?” As her new friend, and co-star, she should probably know that already, but she wasn’t sure.

“Thank you, Santana. Those were some of my best movies,” he bragged with a little chuckle. “See? I’m the best at tiny-dancing. It’s really...my thing besides drumming. I hope I get to drum on the show. I am playing a musician kind of.”

“Speaking of the show, we should probably head back to the hotel and check our schedules for tomorrow’s events.” She frowned slightly. “I don’t want to have my phone blowing up to be ready for something when I thought I could sleep in.” That would ruin most of her day.

Glancing over at Santana, Marley brushed back her hair. “I was on Dear Evan Hansen, when it was off Broadway.” Marley said quietly. “You’re a really good drummer, Finn. I guess it makes up for the dancing.” She teased.  Looking over at Mercedes, she nodded. “Yeah, we probably should.” Santana looked over in Finn’s direction, head tilted slightly. “I need to hear you play the drums some day. Everyone else seems to know how amazing you are.” At the suggestion of heading back, she nodded and started gathering their trash together. “We should. I hope we don’t have anything too early…”

“I don’t have any drums here, but I have some back in California. So maybe you can come hang out, and I’ll play for you. Everyone can come over and just hang.” He didn’t want it to make it sound like he was only inviting Santana over.

Helping gather the remaining trash as well, she smiled as she heard Finn. She liked seeing him social and making friends, especially with Santana. She wasn’t too sure what had caused things to be so at odds before, but they seemed to be getting along well now.  “Same here, this girl needs her beauty rest.” She laughed.

“Sounds like a plan,” she told Finn. Hopefully this meant that they were on the road to an actual friendship. Santana laughed, agreeing with Mercedes. “Me too. I’m not a good morning person.” She helped the group throw out their garbage and then headed for the door, holding it open for the rest of her friends.

Marley grinned, her head nodding as she got up, and grabbed her things. Heading to the door, she looked over at Finn. “That sounds like a plan! I’d love to hear you play!”

Finn followed behind the girls, happy they had plans for when the returned to the other coast. “Santana, are you still having your pilot party?” He hadn’t told her if he was going yet, but he’d decided he’d go when Rachel said she was.

Mercedes walked with the others as they headed back to the hotel, glad that she had taken up Finn’s offer. Brittany was the most adorable woman she had ever met. Marley seemed pretty quiet and reserved, but nice. And Santana was definitely someone she could see herself chilling with during set downtimes. She hadn’t met everyone officially yet, but so far, she was super happy.

Santana walked along with the small group. “Of course I am. I think it’ll be fun for all of us to watch it together.” Plus it was just a good reason to have a good time with some pretty decent people.

Brittany was glad for this pizza outing. She assumed most of the week would be all glam and smiling for cameras and answering work questions, so it was nice that they got to spend some time just being themselves. What placed her hands on Santana's shoulders and bounced on her heels as they walked out. “Alright, now which one of you is buying me ice cream?”

#p:pp

[iamtheunicornprincess]

Aight, folks. I think we can all agree on one thing: Audio gear is expensive. Unless you find it at a yard sale, sold by someone confusing a heavy duty multi-voiced monster for a kid’s toy (but hey, even a snot-covered Fisher Price xylophone from a Savers can be sampled into something beautiful), the chances of you finding a deal is going to be rare. If you are a sound person, then stories of such rarity buys will be over-told for decades to come; your audio friends will loudly resent you with a smile and ask you retell said legend again, and again. Usually, though, you’ll save up and look forward to the weekend you can finally spend together with your new, shiny, synth companion. 

Lately, I find myself longing so badly for my own space. I want a home. I grew up in a family of eight with five siblings, and while my childhood reeked of copious amounts of people related to me going in my room while I was out and touching my shit, and blurting pieces of my diary over the dinner table, and picking up the other end of a landline to eavesdrop, living with roommates is different. I’ve had some INCREDIBLE roommates, and would continue to live with them if I didn’t have to leave Boston/they hadn’t moved. But, I dunno. Although I foresee a future of travels and while I’m a more “go with the wind” type of person, there is something really, really calming about not having all my shit stuffed into a 10′x10′ bedroom in the most boring section of Brooklyn (though I did have a package stolen from me yesterday [and I not-so-secretly hope said salt lamp that s/he stole falls on their foot]). My dream is to someday own a house, once the terrors of student loans have surpassed, and I want a backyard. But, most of all, I want a STUDIO. And today, I am going to leave a list of my dream gear that I currently do not own that I would love to have in my said future studio (NOTE: Many of you have probably seen pictures of me using some of these items. I am lucky enough to have worked in two recording facilities that housed them and, like a good studio person should do, I utilized them to the point where parting ways from some of them still makes me sad. However, they were not mine). 

DREAM GEAR 

Arturia Minibrute

Some people might kind of wonder why the Minibrute is here: It’s not super expensive for an analog synth (you could probably find it under $300 at this point). But you know what? I don't own it right now, because I had access to it for quite a while before I moved. You’ll hear a great deal of it on my upcoming record, so over the past year or so, I’ve been nonstop mixing tracks I created with it. Even though I *could* buy it right now, I am so frugal with my finances when it comes to buying anything for myself. But, anyway - the Minibrute is great. I love the Microbrute, as well, but the Minibrute has a special place in my heart because of the dirty, gritty noise channel you can add to the mix, along with a sub and three other oscillators. Pretty sweet, especially since it has MIDI, CV, and a straight 1/4″ output. Can’t go wrong. I just love the sound... Anything gritty will have my heart.

OTO Biscuit

I kind of need to just get one of these because of how rare they are. This is the best distortion/bitcrusher I’ve ever used. I love running vocals with it, I love how easily out of control-sensitive it is, and I will love lo-fi for life. 

Roland Juno 106

Because, duh. This baybee is a classic. It has six voices. Despite it being fairly easy to track down, I’m well aware that the most common issue with this synth is voices dying (but you gotta remember that you’ll most likely purchase one that’s never had a voice replaced since, like, ever, and it’s from 1984). However, it’s EXPENSIVE to replace voices, and Roland does not create them anymore (it would be wishful thinking for them to, but as they don’t produce the 106s anymore...). BUT, there is someone who created a more functional voice IC replacement (check out Analogue Renaissance for more info on voice replacements. Just be wary that he will charge you for asking questions that have already be answered on his site, so read carefully). I’ve promised myself that I wouldn’t get a dog ‘till I have the time for one (duh?) AND money for any unexpected vet visits, so I’ll do the same for the Juno 106 (unless purchased with replacement voices).

ARP Odyssey 1978 MK III 

VINTAGE. NOT THE REMAKE. NOT THE APP. NOT THE MINI OR FULL SIZE FROM KORG. NOT THE EBAY SELLER PRETENDING IT’S A VINTAGE WHEN IT’S A KORG. I SEE YOU.  IT NEEDS TO BE THE VINTAGE MK III FROM 1978. Okay, let me explain: This synth holds a huge place in my heart. During the hardest parts of my life in late 2015 to mid 2016, I couldn’t sleep normal hours, or create. My anxiety was out of control and I had literally three full on attacks a day and I didn’t want anybody to know. So, even though I couldn’t do much to fix any of those issues at the time, I needed to do something. So,  I would force myself to pour over the manual for this synth every time I felt a panic attack creeping up, and would press random keys and hit record. The old sound of it would distract me. I don’t know. I just associate this synth with comfort. Every time I was sad, I would have this synth in front of me. I’d leave my apartment at odd hours of the night to go sit with it and hope something good would be recorded out of it. So, yeah - when I buy this synth, it needs to be vintage. It’s just sentimental and if I could buy the same synth I used, I would. And, yes, I love how it gets out of tune. A whole track on Living Proof is totally in tune with the Odyssey, but out of tune with... everything else. You’ll see. 

ARP 2600

Again - the original, not the TTSH clone. The first time I ever saw this synth, it did not fascinate me -- I was 19, and I was terrified. It was 2009, and I was enrolled in Michael Brigida’s class at Berklee College of Music (he was my modular synthesis & signal flow professor and he’s worked on every ARP machine ever and was one of the best teachers I have ever had). Back then, the synth was held in A59 in 150 Massachusetts Ave. The room had no windows and reeked of mildew, and on the first day of class, myself and my classmates trekked down the hall from our classroom and watched Michael calmly create different patches. I was the shortest in the class, and I was the only girl, and I was painfully shy.  I wore a black fitted hoodie with spikes almost every day and I was fucking weird. Everyone in the class just seemed to understand what was going on and I just stood there, hardly able to see anything (because, well, I’m just shy of 5′3′’). Listening in awe, I felt like a total idiot. I had no idea what this modularapolis kajargen was and I was too afraid to ask for help. I clearly remember Brigida telling us to ‘not fear the synth!’ and to ‘make it fear you!', but everyone in the class just seemed at ease and I was, well, not!  Fast forward four years -- I got a lot more experience in the game audio and synth hardware world, and I was hired by the department, and the more I worked there, the more I saw that, sure, some people DID just have a knack for that kind of stuff right off the bat, but a lot of times, people wore a concrete-made poker face. I had already been employed by AKAI at that point and had gotten over my insecurities a little bit. And it was ME that everyone was now asking for help, since, you know, that was my job (those days, I worked 80+ hours a week between there and AKAI). I felt a little less alienated  that I was not the only person in fear of getting my ego hurt around the 2600, and I used this time to really learn it so I could help others understand it. Anyway, I’d go into work on days the facility was closed, and own it so I was more prepared to teach students it when class started back up. This synth taught me a lot about getting past insecurities, and guess what - I’m not so afraid of that synth anymore! Ha!

Yamaha CS15

This synth is so underrated and so cool. Made in 1979 for a few years onwards, it just sounds like how you think it would. Good luck finding one online that isn’t from Japan and doesn’t require a power converter. And if you find one and are feeling generous, my birthday is June 1st. 

THE KLEE 

Okay. I used modular eurorack systems quite a bit when I still lived in Boston. I do not own a system right now. However, The Klee. Is. A. Monster. I was immediately drawn to it because 1. it’s a sequencer and, um, I love sequencers and 2. it has green LEDs and buttons. I unapologetically love the color scheme of that thing, and it sounds fucking awesome. However, it will take up almost your entire rack case. Google it (sorry not sorry). You can build it from scratch for a little over $500 or buy it complete for a little less than $1,000.

 Avalon 737sp

Coolest preamp & compressor ever. I always “got” EQs, but compressors used to confuse the crap out of me. Ratios? Math!? I wanna do MUSIC (...till you realize a music technologist is more mathematically inclined than you’d be willing to admit, ha!). However, the Avalon really helped me understand what was happening to sound while changing up parameters manually, as opposed to staring at a stock plugin in Pro Tools and visually trying to hear results, if that makes sense. I just understand tech better when hands on. Anyway, one of my favorite producers of all time, Mark Ronson, has used them in recordings and the second I learned that, bam. Look at me! I can make myself burp AND I can use compressors with my eyes closed! 

Empirical Labs Distressor

Mostly because every studio I’ve worked in has them next to each other and I like the comparison. And it sounds good. I still prefer the 737 but I love this thang, too. 

Moog Sub 37

SOUNDS GOOD. MY MAIN HOBBY INCLUDES GOING INTO SAM ASH AND WAITING FOR GOSPEL GROUPS TO FINISH THEIR SYNTH JAM SESH SO I CAN GO INTO THE ISOLATION ROOM AND ROCK OUT ON THIS MOOG. 

Electro-Voice RE20

Just like the ‘wand chooses the wizard’ (and yes, I heard Ollivander’s voice when I wrote that), everyone will usually resonate to at least one mic that makes their non-traditional voice sound... okay. Heck, maybe it’ll even sound good! I really adore this microphone. I haven’t bought it because I have spent time in facilities over the past 4 years that have owned it everywhere I’ve went, but someday, it shall be mine. It’s mainly used in broadcasting, but, I dunno. I use it when recording my own voice singing because I just like how it makes it sound. I also like that Thom Yorke used it in a show once. Very coolio. Google ‘Radiohead RE20′ and I’m sure that basement show will pop up.

DSI Tempest

Um, coolest drum machine I’ve ever used. That thing is a beast. I love the weird sounds you can make, the sequences you can create, and I’m happy that DSI finally created a couple updates for it. Hell yizzzzzeah.

Crumar Bit-01

This synth came to my attention the other day and ohhhhhh my god, it sounds good. It’s so awesome. I played three seconds of a demo video and I said ‘gimme’. 

Otari MTR12

Very cool tape machine I started to mess with at one of the studios I support. It looks like an oven. Everything just sounds better with tape. 

-

And that is all I can think of, for now. May you all have a synth filled week.

Cheers!

x The Unicorn Princess

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