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[writingsofhubris]

Cabinet Man - Ch. 5

The news reporters reported that I died [AO3] Rating: T WC: 2.2K | 17K Tags: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Slow Burn Fandom: Spider-Man (Movies - Raimi) Ship: Otto Octavius/Rosalie Octavius Disc: Ce, qu'on appelle une raison de vivre est en même temps une excellente raison de mourir. | What is called a reason for living is also an excellent reason for dying Otto Octavius, soon to be a doctor, knew his reputation preceded him in more ways than one. He’d all but written off marriage from a young age, until he saw a woman who’s flick of a hair, a rustle of skirts, took his attention firmly from the science he had so long been taken over his mind.  [<<] | [>>]

Of all the things that Otto found himself comforted by, the drone of the city was one of them. Through his entire life, the silence of hills, the dirt that would fall onto his clothes, never seemed to draw him any further from the streets and chaos that rang through the brick buildings. 

Otto rarely would take advice from those who were not his doctor, but at the urging of Curtis, he really couldn’t find a reason to deny the request. Going out to the country, allowing the reprieve for his mind, was just tantalizing enough for him to accept the advice. The stifling heat was getting to him in the midst of August, ideas and solutions to his problems compressed in oppressive humidity. Plus, Curt had paid for half of the trip, and Otto never turned his nose up at gifts. Doctor’s orders were orders, even if they weren’t always your personal psychian. 

Otto walked up the well taken care of, stone steps, watching his footing for an uneven surface. The door at the top of the stairs was slightly ajar, the heat inside the building allowed it’s chance to exit the building. The man at the desk was clearly falling prey, eyelids half closed, lips parted to let soft puffs of air escape. 

It wasn’t until he saw Otto that he straightened up again, lips now the pleasant smile all service workers would affect when faced with a customer. 

“Good afternoon, sir. May I offer you assistance?” 

“Doctor Octavius. I should have a room reserved for a week.” 

“Very good, sir.” The man took the moments to look through his reservation book, before finding Otto. The process went considerably smoother than Otto had been fearing; his key was offered, and he was instructed to room 8, just around the corner. His luggage was deposited in his room before Otto could turn down any help. With no other reason occupying his thoughts, Otto walked around the grounds, allowing a mental map to build in his head. 

The grounds were well contained, well manicured, perfect for a vacation unconcerned with the mundanity of city life. Shrubs were being attended to as he walked by, sharp shears softly snapping in the evening. The workers nodded their heads at him, before continuing their work. Over a crest of a hill, he fancied his eyes strong enough to see the smoke from the nearby village. The grounds sprawled larger than Otto had expected, much to Otto’s shock. To his knowledge, hydropathy was not a practice engaged in outdoors, but perhaps that was to account for those who designated the resort as a secret meeting ground. Otto couldn’t judge those who did, even he being taken in by the greenery. The spots of shade invited him for a nap, the rolling hills begged for a walk and contemplation. 

But most surprising, Otto didn’t encounter another person after those workers for about an hour and a half. He’d almost point to the weather, but even here, it wasn’t as stifling and oppressive as it would have been at home. 

A handsome couple walked up the path towards him, her hand lightly on the man’s elbow, blushes faint on their cheeks. The sudden knowledge that he had stumbled onto a private conversation washed over Otto, and he took the moment to turn off the path, acting if he only had been looking closer at a rosebush, buds slowly exploding in a mess of petals. 

But that movement enabled him to finish the map in his head, seeing the dirt of the drive just down the house, the house just to the side. The carriage that had only just stopped caught Otto’s attention, though he was not entirely sure why. It wasn’t until he took a half step into the rose bush that the door was opened, and a familiar parasol was out of the door first, covering the deep brown hair secured under a hat. 

How could Otto not recognize the woman who had been stuck in his mind for months? 

Yet the realization didn’t stop Otto from disappearing back into his rented room, the nerves building in his chest almost too much for the moment. Coming here had been a bid to offer his mind a short break from the love-struck thoughts that he’d been inundated with for so very long. 

His notes were spread on the desk provided, and he couldn’t find it in him to relinquish the work he was supposed to shelve. 

The wood was warm in Otto’s hands. He pushed away from the dock, muttering softly to himself. He had little idea of what he properly was doing. The basics were well in his head, knowing only enough to glide through the water, but not enough to make it look, or feel, easy. He only rationalized it with his family lineage; too many of his relatives had found their home on the sea. What kind of Octavius would he be if he didn’t find his own way with a simple rowboat? 

The oars once more in Otto’s hands, and he started to pull the wood through the water, feeling the resistance of the liquid. A few yards from the dock, and he heard his name yelled in slight surprise. 

“Otto!” his head snapped up, only to see the woman he had watched arrive yesterday flounce up to him. Her beauty could not be understated, the deep green taffeta dress fitted just right to her, accented against the light greens of nature. Her steps were quick, stopping with a swing of her skirts at the end of the dock. The shade from her parasol wasn’t enough to mute her expressions, however.  

“Rosaline! I’m sorry, I’ve already cast off. I can’t turn back.” 

“Are you staying here long?” Her voice was strong as it called over the water to him, her eyes only caught on him. He could hear the tones of disappointment, her chance well missed this time. 

“Yes! Can I find you tonight?” 

“Join us for dinner!” The offer was hurried, something to ensure a meeting as he drifted further into the lake. 

“I can’t.” 

“Then tomorrow. Promise me you’ll find me in the maze.” The request nearly made Otto shoot to his feet, almost made him lose his balance and capsize the rowboat. His sudden surge forward only made the boat rock before he understood the danger, his eyes still locked her. 

“Yes! I’ll find you!” he was quick to make the promise, and even at that distance, he was able to see her face light up in excitement, her grin nearly infectious. 

“Good!’ It was the last thing he heard from her before the sound became too faint, and Otto allowed himself to memorize each of her expressions. The gust of wind playing with the hem of her skirt, curls shaken loose from its style and caressing the skin of her neck, Rosaline only could be compared to Aphrodite in his constant, lovesick state. Her visage was entirely memorized in seconds, imprinted into his mind without a thought more. 

He didn’t touch the oars until her image had settled in his mind, and he found himself successful in keeping the boat from tipping, gliding smoothly into the spot he had taken it from shortly before. It wasn’t until he endeavored to try and stand that he found himself suddenly assaulted by the cold water of the lake, his mouth only just managing to close in time. He wasn’t graceful as he thrashed his way back to the dock, covered in algae and a bit of mud. His body back on the dock at long last, Otto could finally hear the peels of laughter falling from the porch, ones that he was vastly familiar with at that point. His head whipped around to see the source, and his mortification was full. The last person he had wanted to see him in such a state was sitting on the poarch with a book and her father next to her. He had missed the display, but it didn’t stop Rosie from trying to stifle it with a hand over her lips. 

His gaze moved from Rosie to a maid, already with her arms full of towels for Otto. 

“Here we are, sir. The lady up there saw your spill and wished you to be taken care of.” 

“Thank you, miss.” Otto’s smile was kind, as he looked at her, before shaking his head at Rosie. The crimson was still bright on his cheeks, and Otto took the chance to hide it with one of the offered towels, scrubbing off the bits of green plant he could feel covering his skin. “Do you provide a laundering service, miss?” 

“Yes, sir. I would guess you’d like this clothing to be laundered today?” “If it could be. I don’t want to find out what stains I can create yet.” He smiled at her, mind once again on the promise of the next days. 

“Rosie?” 

“Otto?” Her voice carried to him from the foliage, clearly on the other side of the natural wall. 

“I will admit, I’m quite confused how a labyrinth can be used to medicate one’s humors.” Yet there was a humor in his voice even as he said it. His hand moved to the well manicured edge of the bush, the pricks of sharp sticks poking into the meat of his hand. The slight pain forced Otto to pay attention to his surroundings more fully. This meeting was secret, for certain, but perhaps not entirely undue. Though short as their courtship has been thus far, Rosie certainly seemed a woman willing to throw social rules to the side if it came to her benefit. 

“I would assume it’s to keep the mind sharp, wouldn’t it?” His jovial state was reflected in her voice, a laugh waiting to spill from her lips. 

In a shift of his weight between his feet, Otto nearly swore that he had caught the glint of Rosie’s eyes through the branches, for just a moment. 

“Is it? I find logic puzzles to serve me better.” 

“Perhaps, but if you are not sharp enough to find your way out of the labyrinth, are you safe enough to be let out?” Her question quickly evoked the story Otto was well familiar with; the offspring of the Cretan Bull and Pasiphaë. 

“I believe that was an attempt to cage a monstrosity, not a human.” 

“Wasn’t it human in its own way?” 

“Only half so.” “Will you argue that the creature is not human on virtue of the desire to be human? That due to its desire to be human despite surface level mutations, it is not human?” Her questions took Otto aback for a few moments, realizing the truth of her words. She didn’t stop in his silence, however. “Do you think he would have needed those stone walls, the twists and turns, if he had been shown a mother’s love? If only his father had offered his palm instead of his fist, that he would have done those actions that were expected of him?” The rebuke, suddenly so very far from the original topic, slapped Otto across the face. The point was clear; what did he consider ‘no longer human’? A percentage? An action? Was the minotaur just a simple product of his circumstances? 

“No. I don’t think that it would have taken so freely if it had not been shown how; if it had been shown love deserved to us all in the light of the sun.” Otto paused, looking once more at the twigs and the leaves in front of his face, thinking through the thoughts in his head. Rosie stayed silent, clearly waiting for words to grant their pattern on him. “Suppose he had. If this creature that was brought into this world without the volition of his mother, of his father, suppose he had been offered the love and joy of his siblings, the bosom of his mother, the palm of his father. Would the world have allowed such a creature to move freely among us? Or would his prison have only expanded from the stone walls and harsh turns, to the moat and the edge of the city. Would that have been enough for this creature who inherently stands above all?” It was Rosie’s turn to fall silent, waiting for his words to parse themselves together, to allow the moments needed for her decision. 

“Yes. He could have found happiness. Perhaps the city walls would have confined him, but I believe even a few friends could have found their way to his aide.” 

“And what of the people who fear him?”

“Would his father’s zeal not be enough to save his hide?”

“Only as long as his heart would beat. Would his words and actions stop Theseus?”

“He wouldn’t have heard of the horrors in the subterranean labyrinth. There would have been no incentive for his troubles in Crete.” At the location, Otto felt the branches press into his hand from the other side of the wall. The soft sound of a hand over branches then reached his ear, scratching sharp points against dry skin. “How far can you walk to your left, Otto?”

“My left? I have ten yards. Twenty on the other side.” 

“Lovely. I may not be able to look into your eyes here, but would you walk with me?” The coy tone of her words tugged the smile that was so strange to his lips. He knew that in rejecting her offer, he’d be nothing more than a blubbering idiot. 

“Whichever way you would like.” He allowed her only two steps to hear her direction, before her voice once again rose and twisted through the sticks. He realized there must not have been enough room to her left as she turned to his left, leading him to the ten short yards he could walk. 

“I believe that the creature would have found its way in this world, somehow. Not an easy life, yet what life offers ease and breath? How can one find humanity without the trials to test character? To test the strength of one’s wills?” 

“Perhaps its joy would have been found in mechanical endeavors such as clock making. Unable to show one’s face to the public, yet worn and shown by man. Perhaps even loved in the way only a layman could love an expert. Fully but only to the surface.” 

“Precisely. Or a repairman, an expert in a field that the average person cannot pray or hope to fix. So many of our own mechanisms have found themselves in boxes, easily returned to their manufacturer.” The last few words started to quiet, just as Otto’s hand rested on the corner of the bushes, holding himself from walking through the branches. 

“Rosie!” His voice rang through her words, cutting the next words off with a sudden silence. “I do believe you have lost me.” 

“What… Oh!” Her laugh was musical, addictive, and Otto didn’t even realize his shoulders had met the corner as well, face pressed centimeters from another scratch on his cheek. She pulled him closer just by being herself; though their topic had been the minotaur, he almost wondered if their topic instead should have shifted to the sirens of the same pantheons. 

“My thoughts take me too easily,” She finally said, voice nearly sheepish as she had returned to where Otto was. 

“Perhaps this is one endeavor we should both be on the same side to reach.” Her pause was enough to make him rethink his words, worried he had stepped over a rule in his enjoyment of their conversation. 

“We will be, one day.” The branch so very close to his cheek suddenly pushed in, her hand on the other side of the leaves, wanting to reach as close to him as she could. His hand moved to match the apex of the bump, their hands connected in every facility that they could manage. It wasn’t enough, Otto knew that. Rosie must have, as well. 

“I’ll find myself following your footsteps that day,” Otto promised, his eyes cast down to the packed earth. “We will find the labyrinth exit together that day.” 

“Don’t make promises you are unable to hold to, Doctor. I will hold your words as gospel.” He snapped his gaze from the ground to search through the branches, digging around as he was able until he was able to locate the smallest of glimpses of her irises, their eyes locking firmly and entirely, before the breeze tweaked a leaf to hide their eyes once again from the other. 

“I’d promise you the sun in your hand if that would convince you to stay.” His voice was half breathless as he said the words, and he earnestly hoped that Rosie was unable to hear that failing on his part. 

“How long is it you’ll be staying?” 

“I leave tomorrow afternoon.” Otto felt the pause ring through his head and his heart, the gap suddenly appearing between them in a way that nearly forced him to reach out to her through the bush. “Yourself? When will I find you in New York again?” 

“In a week only. Father demanded we spend some time from the cloying, heavy atmosphere of the city.” 

“May I call on you when the time comes?” 

“I would find my heart heavy if you did not.” THe truth rang through Rosie’s voice, and Otto knew that he would do whatever he could to spend that time with her. 

“I will.” Too many promises made in just a single afternoon, Otto knew that he would be unable to fill them all. Not that he wouldn’t give it his best effort, that was certain. For Rosie, he would figure out a way to bring the moon down to her. 

“Thank you, Doctor Octavius.” Otto’s head leant against the hedge for just a moment, allowing a soft sigh to fall from his lips. 

“You’re welcome.” Her steps started once more, continuing to fall further and further from him. He pulled back at last, looking at the apex of the bush, wishing for a glimpse of her skirts but unable to even find that. 

It wasn’t until he turned to find the couple standing at the edge of the path, the lady whispering something to the gentleman, her arm wrapped around his forearm in a manner Otto wished to recreate with Rosie. 

“Oh, hello.” The blush he’d worked to overcome years ago was on his cheeks, embarassment at showing vunerability in such a public place intimately clear on his face. 

“Do you need aide in finding an exit, sir?” The man’s voice rang into Otto’s ears, brushing Rosie’s soft voice like cobwebs from his mind. 

“No, I do believe this is a test of wills, isn’t it?” An attempt of a smile was on his face, the effort to cover his blunder failing in the most simple of ways. 

“Perhaps you are correct, sir.” The lady’s voice, fine as porcelain, now rang. Her hand motioned to the carefully maintained arch of leaves they had presumably walked through. “But you are just one turn from the exit.” 

Tags! @niffysboxers @yesalwayswelles @overlookedfile @arandomnerdsblog578 @unitedfandomsoftheworld @emotrash1 @randomfandomtrash28 @tsukiakarinobara

#Forgot to upload chapter 5 here i'm so sorry y'all! #c6 in a few! #.W #victorian au #rosie octavius #otto octavius/rosie octavius #rosie octavius x otto octavius #otto octavius x rosie octavius

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[nightwishesworld]

Morning Wood

Finally, I can take this sticky note off my wall! So sorry it took so long my friend, I've been buried in requests haha

BIG OL' NSFW WARNING

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Alcina’s bleary eyes slowly opened to the sound of soft snoring. Next to her, you slept cocooned in comfort. It was a blessing being able to wake up to such a pretty face, Alcina thought. Something was off this morning though she wasn’t awake enough to realize what it was. Alcina sat up, rubbing the crust off her eyes.

She felt hot. As if her blood was rushing through her. With a quick glance down, she quickly acknowledged the issue. The huge tent in the blanket made it very obvious. Alcina groaned, palming her head.

“Well that’s just fantastic,” she groaned.

Alcina considered her options. She could either take a cold bath or take care of it herself. Something told her a shower won’t cut it today. She’s already temped to abandon the bathroom all together and just get rid of it here. Then afterwards she can cuddle you and go right back to sleep.

She turned to watch you as you slept blissfully unaware of her conundrum. The last thing she wants to do is wake you up because of something as stupid as this.

Her hand wraps around the base of her shaft and starts herself off slow. The grip was loose at first and making a languid pattern of up and down motions.

You stir awake to the sounds of hushed grunting next to you. Through bleary eyes you could just make out Alcina’s form propped up on her pillow. It’s obvious what she’s doing. It’s been happening a lot as of late, not that you were totally complaining. Alcina found it incredibly embarrassing the more it happened. Most mornings she would relieve herself in the bathroom. It seems today that was just too long of a walk.

A loud groan pulled you out of your dreamy state. Alcina’s hands were shaking, her breathing even harsher and heavier than before.

Oh, she’s hit a wall.

It was the worst feeling, being so close to having what was just out of reach. It filled you with such a visceral sympathy you broke your silence. “Al?”

Her eyes go wide and she turns to you, but never relents under the sheets. “I’m sorry, Dove, did I wake you?”

You sit up and stretch, letting out a big yawn. “No, don’t worry. I was gonna ask how you slept, but I think I already know the answer.”

“I’m sorry. I was hoping to have dealt with it before you woke up.”

You chuckle and simply take in the sight of the ever elegant Alcina Dimitrescu servicing herself in bed. “Need a hand?”

A much smaller hand finds its way on top of Alcina’s. You don’t bother waiting for a response as you bat her hand away completely.

After a few minutes of this light, almost teasing grip, you tightened your grip until you had her erection in a firm squeeze, your free hand digging into her thigh. You kept your pace slow and measured for a while longer, though, rationing out each new increase in pleasure only when you had exhausted the last one. Then you started to pick up the pace, and now the quiet hums and moans would rise up from the back of Alcina’s throat.

“Get the lubricant, p-please. I need more.”

You bit back the desire to ask if she really needed any lube. She was already dripping and slick with precum. But if that’s what she wanted who were you to disobey? You grabbed the fruity scented bottle out of the bedside drawer and massaged it between your hands.

Alcina had already picked up where you left off, her pace much faster and desperate than yours. Instead of batting her away again you grab her wrist.

“If you don’t behave yourself I won’t let you finish.”

The statement caught you both off guard. It’s not very often you take control like that, and it’s even less often Alcina lets you. Which is why you were surprised when she pouted and brought her hand back down to her side.

“I’ll behave, Darling.”

“Good girl,” you give her a quick kiss and wrap your hand around her again. It was a little known fact that Alcina Dimitrescu could go from being a dominant mommy straight down to a pillow princess. Really the only one still living that knows besides herself is you. Being the dominant one always felt strange though. You felt a bit out of your element, but the look of innocence on Alcina’s face was well worth it. It amazes you every time she decides to play submissively; she’s just as captivating and sexy as her usual dominant self. There was something about the way she just laid down and took whatever you were willing to give that made you crave her even more.

To reward her good behavior you increase your pace and tighten your grip. Her moans and gasps were rapturous to your ears. You knew exactly how she wanted to be touched- how she needed to be touched. And you were more than happy to oblige.

“Close your eyes and relax, Alci. This is all about you. I’ll take good care of you.”

Alcina did as she was told and relaxed against her pillows, focusing solely on your ministrations. She thought there was something hypnotic in the rhythmic motion of your hand, something that felt more profound and elegant the more she felt it. You felt ritualistic against her. She felt like she was being blessed by the Gods.

It was only when she felt something soft cushioning her shaft that she looked down at you. Her jaw dropped as if she wanted to gasp but no sound came out.

You were rubbing your now glistening tits up and down Alcina’s shaft, properly oiling them up. The vampiress’ cock twitches when she feels your hard nipples pressing against the length of her cock and your lips peppering her head in kisses. Your eyes were hooded and filled with lust. It was probably the sexiest thing Alcina had ever laid eyes on; and it was all for her.

You lick her from tip to base. You sucked on her cock, circling her head with the tip of your tongue until finally taking her in your mouth. Alcina starts subtly thrusting her hips, desperate for more contact.

A large, warm hand settled in your hair and started tugging at it. And as the two of you looked at each other, as if no one else existed within the world, you eagerly returned to sucking her cock like you were trying to save your life doing it.

You take her head in your mouth and suck, the taste of precum fresh on your tongue.

She arched into your touch and busied her hand by massaging her breasts, tweaking and pinching her hardened nipples to give herself as much stimulation as possible.

“Does that feel good, baby?” Alcina hummed in response.

Meanwhile, your left hand was softly caressing the vampire’s muscular thighs, and a cute little whimper escaped from her when you pinched her skin. "Ah! Te rog, iubirea mea."

"Please what, Alci?" "Tell me what you want, Love. Use your words."

Alcina couldn’t seem to keep still, as she began unconsciously pushing her hips up towards your face, attempting to get you to deep-throat her as soon as possible. To prevent her from moving like that, you tried using enough force in your left arm to hold her hips down, with your right hand still holding onto her cock as she started to pick up the pace.

“I want your mouth, draga mea. Please, draga mea I need to be in your mouth.”

You grin up at her and chuckle lowly. “That wasn’t so difficult now was it?”

Maintaining eye-level with Alcina’s cock, you stuck out your tongue and licked a bead of precum from the slit. You continued this motion until the whole tip in your mouth, sucking out a lot more precum. Finally, you took almost her full length in your mouth, just enough to reach the back of your throat. You gagged.

Alcina couldn’t suppress her moans anymore, letting you hear her desperation loud and clear. She was panting, sweat forming on her forehead. The atmosphere of their bedroom suddenly got hot. Really hot.

"Nu te opri, te rog," Alcina whispered not realizing she was speaking at all. "Mmmm ...te rog, iubirea mea, nu te opri."

You heard Alcina mumbling but couldn't make out the words. No matter, you weren’t concerned with what she was saying. You could tell Alcina liked what you were doing because she'd grind her hips up closer to your face whenever your mouth parted from her cock.

Alcina shot her eyes wide open right before she came in your sore mouth, and filled you up so much to the point where you choked for a second. But you swallowed all of her semen, not allowing any to drip from your chin. You licked your lips again, feeling very full. “That was delicious, Love. You taste so fucking good. Thanks for breakfast.” Alcina looked down with a blush to see you staring at her lovingly, watching her penis rest against her stomach. You crawled up to look Alcina eye-to-eye, a smirk spreading across your face. “You’re welcome.”

Alcina laughed and pulled you down fully on top of her. “Thank you.”

You lowered your face to place what was supposed to be a chaste kiss on her lips. Alcina melted into the kiss, the softness of your lips driving her crazy on the inside. Things were getting heated, as Alcina stuck her tongue into your mouth when she got the chance. You just squirmed above her. Alcina could taste her semen on your tongue. She moaned into your mouth from the action. Then she bit your already swollen bottom lip, causing you to hiss. Neither of you wanted to pull away. You continued making out for a while, until you ended the intimacy and pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your tongues. “I love you, Alcina.” “I love you, too, Y/n.”

#lady dimitrescu x reader #tall vampire lady #Lady Dimitrescu #lady Alcina #resident evil village #resident evil 8

[adoredconnor]

Hunter, Profiled

Chapter One - Beginnings

Summary: Sam and Spencer meet on a case where a serial arsonist terrorizes a college campus. Sam and Dean think it may be a phoenix. Takes place during the events Criminal Minds 1x02

Ship: Sam Winchester x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 3.8k

CW: Canon typical violence, heavy out of canon, monsters are still real

Spencer leaned forward in his seat, placing pawns on the chess board in front of him. The plane rides usually took long enough for Gideon and himself to fit at least one match in before arriving.

“Hey Reid, you got a statistic on arsonists?” Morgan asks, not once glancing over his shoulder.

“82% are white males between 17 and 27. Female arsonists are far less likely, their motive typically being revenge.”

“Sounds like our boy’s a student.”

The Behavioral Analysis Unit had been called out to identify and detain a serial arsonist who had been terrorizing Bradshaw College in Tempe, Arizona. The unknown subject, Unsub, had set multiple fires within a few weeks, and was escalating rapidly. As far as Morgan was concerned, the Unsub was a student on campus. Gideon, however, believed that the unit shouldn’t attempt to categorize the arsonist so early in the case.

The jet landed only a few hours later in sunny Arizona, though its beauty was darkened by the woes and depression of the students and faculty on campus. Aaron “Hotch” Hotchner and Gideon hit the ground running, immediately going to talk with the Dean of Students, Ellen Turner.

The Dean offered what little information that she knew, that diesel fuel had been stolen a day before a fire was set and chemicals from a chemistry lab. Hotch was worried, though his stoic expression never wavered, and expressed his concerns to Gideon.

Spencer went to investigate the scene of the first fire alongside Hotch. They approached the room, only to find it occupied by another man facing away from them. Spencer spared a glance towards the man before turning to Hotch, raising an eyebrow in concern. Agent Hotchner raised his eyebrows and cleared his throat, grabbing the young man’s attention in front of him. He turned around, slightly shaking the brown bangs across his head.

“I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner with the FBI, who are you and what are you doing on my crime scene?”

“Oh, uh… I’m Detective Sam Winchester, with Smith Detective Services. I was called on this case by the first victim’s mother.” Sam reaches a hand out to Hotch, who grudgingly shakes it. Sam turns to Spencer, seemingly noticing him for the first time, and offers his hand.

“O-oh, actually the number of germs passed through handshakes is alarmingly high. It would actually be safer to kiss,” Spencer stutters over his words, looking down at his feet as he finishes his sentence. Hotch glances at Spencer before moving into the dormitory to assess and analyze the damage and possible causes.

Sam peers down at the man standing in front of him, “As nice as that would be, I think Agent Hotchner might kick my ass if we kissed on a crime scene.” Sam admired Spencer’s red tie and beige shirt combination before turning to Hotch.

“The door was locked,” Hotch says.

“Matthew Rowland and his roommate watched as the doorknob turned against the lock,” Spencer states.

“But the unsub couldn’t get in.”

“So he pours the accelerant into the room from the hallway.”

“Wait,” Sam cuts in, “He wouldn’t have been able to see the fire.”

Spencer nods along and adds, “But he could hear Matthew Rowland screaming.”

Hotch looks at Sam again, “What’re you thinking Winchester?”

Sam takes a deep breath, “I believe he left quickly to avoid being spotted.”

Hotch shakes his head, “It doesn’t make sense.” He moves over to Spencer’s side.

“Pyromania as a mental disorder may just be a simple myth, but we do know from precedent that serial arsonists derive pleasure,” Spencer blushes ever-so slightly and moves his gaze away from Sam, “from pathological fire setting.”

“Sex and power,” Hotch agrees. Sam chokes down a cough.

“Why would he set a fire he couldn’t watch?” Spencer seems puzzled for the first time that day.

Sam quickly looks him up and down, “Well if that isn’t the question of the hour.”

Hotch heads out of the dorm and heads down to Elle and Gideon. “There was no device used on Matthew Rowland,” Gideon says, explaining the simultaneous ignition devices to an arriving Agent Hotchner. Gideon analyzes the third device in the box, “The unsub set that one manually?”

“He wanted to be there to enjoy the kid’s death,” Morgan inputs, only glancing up when he hears a knock at the door.

A man, roughly in his mid-twenties with short and slicked brown hair, strolls in with a light air of arrogance. “I don’t think so.”

“Who the hell are you?” Morgan questions, moving a hand towards his holster.

“Dean Winchester, private investigator, and you are?”

“That’s SSA Derek Morgan. Spencer, I mean Dr. Reid was just telling me about him.” Dean spins around to see his brother walking just slightly too close to Spencer for it to be casual. Sam notices his brother’s look and shuffles away from Spencer’s side. “Sorry, I’ve only been introduced to Agent Hotchner and Dr. Reid, and perhaps Agent Morgan.”

Hotch nods towards Morgan, who then moves his hand away from his holster. He gestures around the table, “This is SSA Gideon and SSA Greenaway. Now that introductions are done, let’s focus on the case.”

Elle nods, “Well if the target was Matthew Rowland, then why set the other two fires?”

The BAU debates for a while, attempting to figure out the motive behind the fires. Dean moves towards Sam, gesturing with his head to the other side of the room where they wouldn’t be heard. Sam speaks first, “So get this, the diesel fuel was stolen from the grounds shed before the fire that killed Matthew Rowlands was set. Those FBI agents are thinking pyromaniac with his heart set on revenge.”

“And what are you thinking?”

“I’m not sure if it’s entirely possible, but Dean, what if we’re dealing with a phoenix?”

“Why would a phoenix need to use gasoline to create a fire? It could’ve incinerated the kid in a heartbeat.”

“For the dramatics, and to see him suffer? I’m not sure yet, but there’s something more here than just some college student that’s a little too happy with a lighter.”

Hotch looks back towards the brothers, narrowing his eyes before turning back towards his team.

“You say ‘college student’ as if you weren’t one not that long ago.” Dean quips before flinching slightly. He knew that would bring Sam’s recent loss of his girlfriend. Sam glared down at his brother with tears in his eyes before moving back towards Spencer’s side.

Spencer turned and motioned for Sam to join him and Elle in their makeshift office space. They grabbed coffees and sat down, throwing theories and ideas at one another again.

“The timer sets the road flare, which then lights the chemical mixture inside the canister. Simple,” Elle states before taking a long drink of her coffee. Sam snorts.

“I mean, there’s a meticulous construction to it,” Spencer rambles on about the construction of the explosive.

“What if it’s a chemistry student or professor?” Sam interjects, sweeping his hair out of his eyes.

“Mmm… I say student. You need self-confidence to lecture in front of a classroom full of 30 college kids. Arsonists are socially incompetent. This guy, he doesn’t go on dates. He doesn’t go to parties. He doesn’t feel comfortable in front of groups.” Elle goes on. Spencer looks up towards her with an offended and sad look in his eye. “And of course he’s a total psychopath.”

Spencer shrugs and looks back down at the device he was fiddling with. Elle walks out of the room to get some air. Sam slides over towards Spencer. “Hey, I’m sorry about what she said. I’m sure she means well.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to it. She’s not wrong anyways, 23 years and I haven’t been on a date in my life.”

“I’m sure there’s plenty of guys and girls who’d love to go on a date with you. I mean, why wouldn’t they? You’re smart, handsome, and a FBI agent.” Sam’s eyes widen a fraction before he clears his throat. Within a second, he hears a fire alarm going off. Spencer looks towards Sam in alarm before taking off, Sam only a step behind him.

Derek and Dean find Elle walking down the stairs, and turn to the now smoking building in alarm. They sprint towards the building, only to find Gideon in there attempting to rescue the latest victim. Derek pulls Gideon away from the scene as Elle and Dean back out, clearing the rest of the students off the stairs and out of the building.

Sam and Spencer reach the building, looking up in disdain. Hotch reaches them and Elle, whom he tells to take photos of the crowd. Dean moves over to Elle’s side and begins taking photos alongside her, “Hey hot stuff.” He winks and she rolls her eyes, “What? Too soon?”

Hotch, Spencer, and Sam stand in the chemistry lab, watching the students closely. “Reid, since you’re more their age, why don’t you do the talking?” Hotch demands, rather than truly asking. Spencer looks at him with apprehension.

“Why can’t Sam do it? He’s around my age, at least from what I can tell. He’s better with talking and connecting with them.”

“Winchester. I need you to talk to the students.”

Sam turns towards the older man, narrowing his eyes before nodding, “Only if Reid comes with.” Another raised eyebrow from Hotch. “I get jittery sometimes, and it’s nice to have backup.” Spencer’s lips quirk up in a small smile.

Sam clears his throat, “Hi, guys. I’m Detective Sam Winchester and this is Dr. Spencer Reid. I’m a private investigator.”

“I’m a, uh, agent with the- the BAU, the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. Which, um, it used to be called the BSU, the Behavioral Science Unit, but not anymore.” Spencer rambles.

“What he’s trying to say is we’d love to know how you can help us,” Hotch smoothly cuts in, earning a stern glare from Sam. Sam turns to Spencer and gives him an encouraging smile before turning back to the students.

One of the male students gets up and walks over towards them holding a hand out and asking, “May I please?” He grabs the lightbulb from Spencer, “See this? Drill a hole in the side, fill it with gasoline or whatever’s good and flammable. Turn the light on. Boom.” After a quick judging look from Spencer, he continues on, “That is what went down, didn’t it?”

“The stuff’s all over the net,” a girl from the back chimes in.

“You wanna know what I think? I think it would be a good time to take a semester off.” The male student pushes the lightbulb into Spencer’s chest.

Sam moves towards Spencer, almost pushing him behind. “Don’t touch him.” Hotch looks at the men and the student before heading to the elevator. They all follow him in.

“Hold on. You need a key to get it movin’ after 10 PM.” The male student says, almost smugly.

“So what are you still doin’ here?” Hotch asks.

“I can’t leave. We’ve all got projects. You know how to solve the three-body problem? Computing the mutual gravitational interaction between the Earth, Sun, and Moon?”

Sam watches Spencer nod his head along to the student’s words. “You actually know how to solve that?” Spencer nods. “I figured that you were a genius for being a doctor at the age of… Wait, hold old even are you?”

“I’m 23.”

“You’re 23 and you already have a doctorate? I’m 22 and I don’t even have a degree.”

“Yes, as well as multiple other bachelor’s degrees. I’m working towards earning another PhD.”

Sam lets out a low whistle that has Hotch turning towards them, assessing. Sam meets his gaze and cocks his head a little before turning back to Spencer. He smiles down at Spencer for a moment before the elevator opens.

The BAU gathers around a table, listening to the Unsub’s message that was left on the hotline. Dean stood next to Elle, actually paying attention to the case instead of flirting with her. He glanced over to where Sam was standing. Sam was behind Spencer, who was perched on a desk. Sam’s hand rested gently on Spencer’s back as he leaned in to hear the tape better.

Gideon replayed the track again and again, something nagging at him. Dean turned towards Elle with a roll of his eyes after Gideon turned up the volume yet again. Gideon headed outside, Spencer and Sam following not too far behind. Spencer sits down at the base of a tree, watching Gideon pace around, “What if the Unsub is one of the students leaving?”

“No, he’s not done yet. He’s not going anywhere. Keep thinkin’,” Gideon says.

“You mean out--outside the box? That’s what Morgan is always telling me. He says that’s why I’ll never beat you at chess.”

“He’s probably right.”

Spencer chuckles and smiles before looking up at Sam, who was running his fingers through his hair, “Do you want to go get a coffee? You look like you could use one.” At Sam’s offended look, Spencer amended, “Not that you look bad, you look really good-- I mean you look fine.” Spencer blushed. Sam’s mouth quirked up for a second as he nodded. Sam offered a hand out to Spencer, who happily took it, and pulled him up. Spencer stumbled over a root and ended up crashing into Sam. Sam laughed whole-heartedly as he steadied the doctor. They set off, going towards one of the coffee shops right next to campus.

“So, this Morgan guy, he’s always telling you to think outside the box? How do you apply that to a case?”

“In this situation, what exactly is the box?”

“Wouldn’t it be the standard profile of a serial arsonist? If everything you know is already in the box, what’s left?”

“What you don’t know. The unknown.”

They approached the coffee shop, heavily decorated with photos of the sports teams from the college across the street. Sam pats his pockets for a moment before groaning, drawing the attention of the profiler next to him. “I forgot my wallet in my car earlier,” Sam explains. Spencer turns, ready to leave, when Sam stops him. “You can still get your coffee, I can tell you really want one right now. Go order and I’ll get us a table.” Spencer smiles at that and waits.

After receiving his concernedly cheap coffee, Spencer makes his way over to the table where Sam sits. Sam had taken off his jacket at some point and rolled up his sleeves, drawing Spencer’s gaze to the muscles there. His eyes flick up to Sam’s. Sam smiles gently as he analyzes Spencer’s eyes.

“You don’t mind sharing with me, right?” Sam says, glancing down from Spencer’s eyes to the warm coffee cup in his hands. Spencer shakes his head and holds the cup out to Sam. Sam takes a quick sip from the cup and thrusts it back towards the other brunet. “How much sugar did you put in this?”

Spencer chokes out a laugh. They sit in an amicable silence, broken only by the conversations of the people around them. Spencer’s knees bump into Sam’s under the table. Sadly, the coffee has run out and they have a serial arsonist to capture. Sam grabs his jacket and tosses it back on. Spencer can’t help the flood of disappointment in him as the strong arms of the man across from him disappear under the fabric.

They walk towards the campus once more and catch up with Morgan in their meeting area. Morgan finishes his phone call with Garcia and turns towards the two young men walking through the door, “Hey Reid, Garcia says it’s not ‘Karen’. It’s something more like-”

“Charown!” Gideon interrupts, speeding through the open doorway.

“Charown?” Spencer questions.

“Charown. I do it because of Charown.”

“It’s Hebrew.”

“Isn’t that god’s burning anger?” Sam interjects.

Dean, Elle, and Hotch enter the room to join the rest of the BAU. Elle and Hotch move towards where Gideon is. Dean hangs back near the other end of the room.

“The motive is now religious?” Elle asks.

“Well, you know, in a lot of religions God is related to fire.” Spencer spouts off.

Sam moves towards Dean, who gives him the look that says “what the hell are we still doing here”. Sam cuts a look towards Spencer and another to Hotch. They both turn towards the BAU members as voices rise higher and arguments start. Spencer turns away from them, seemingly overstimulated by the argument, before looking directly at Sam.

“Compulsion,” Spencer whispers. He nods to Sam and moves to the computer and video area. Dean gives Sam an odd look, which he shrugs off. He follows Spencer to the computer area, where Spencer sits intensely watching the tapes of the first fire. The screams of the first victim surround them and Sam turns away for a moment before steeling himself. Spencer taps the computer desk in deep thought before rewinding the video. He brings a hand up to his forehead to lean on as he intently watches the video. Sam stands directly behind him, pondering. He gets up from the chair and moves over to the whiteboard, where he erases everything.

“What’re you thinking Spence?” Sam asks, leaning against the desk that Spencer had just been at. He notices Gideon watching through the door and turns back to the computer with he recording on it. Gideon encourages Spencer to think outside the box, then leaves both the men to their thoughts. Spencer rushes over to the laptop again, replaying the same clip of where gasoline pours inside the first victim’s room.

“Three times,” Spencer says. Sam looks at the man next to him and then at the footage. The doorknob to the victim’s dorm turned three times in a row. Spencer quickly gets up and moves to where the professor’s burned office is. Sam follows behind, easily catching up to Spencer with his long strides. Spencer wipes the soot off the professor’s door plate, revealing the number three. Once more he turns and walks hurriedly to the first victim’s dormitory. Sam and Spencer move the caution tape out of the way and enter. Spencer opens the drawers in the victim’s desk, searching for something important. Sam stands back, watching with a mixture of unease and curiosity. He finds the victim’s schedule, “Professor Wallace, Tuesday, three o’clock.” He gestures for Sam to follow him as they head back to the rest of the BAU.

“I know why the profiles never fit,” Spencer states confidently, “You were right to tell Morgan to not rely on precedent. The fires thus far have been completely task oriented.”

“So once they’re set the Unsub is done?” Sam asks. Hotch nods.

“Exactly. The Unsub is not a classical serial arsonist. He’s someone who uses fire because of a completely different disorder!”

“Which is?” Gideon questions.

“An extreme manifestation of OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. He does everything in threes. And if I’m right, he’ll have to kill again. There’s a form of OCD called scrupulosity.”

Sam makes a confused face and turns to Hotch. “Religious obsession and compulsion,” the unit chief explains. Sam nods in understanding.

“So he has an obsessive fear of committing sin?” Sam ponders aloud.

Spencer nods, “It creates so much anxiety that he’s compelled to do something to ease that anxiety.”

Spencer presents all of the evidence he’s found so far and explains all the behavioral evidence connecting the Unsub to a pattern of threes and the fires.

“I think I know who it is. And it’s not a he, it’s a she.” Hotch states before calling the dean of the school.

While the dean sends over Clara Hayes’s file, they go over all the evidence leading them to Clara. “They were working on the three body problem,” Sam remembers.

Dean, Elle, and Morgan head to Clara’s room with a S.W.A.T. unit. They find the walls plastered with papers and the room filled with candles. “OCD? I’m thinking more like OMG,” Morgan says, earning a hearty chuckle out of Dean.

“OMG?” Elle asks.

“Oh, my God,” Dean and Morgan answer.

They read off the fire related biblical quotes on Clara’s walls and gaze at the pictures on her desk.

“Moloch was the demon sun god of the Canaanites. In order to keep from incurring his wrath the people would sacrifice their children to them by burning them alive,” Spencer tells the group in Clara’s room.

Hotch and Gideon give the order to the local officers to run into each building and pull the fire alarms to get the students out. Elle, Dean, and Morgan had found at least 30 homemade bombs in the building. What they didn’t know, however, was that the chemistry students working late at night were stuck in the elevator.

Clara finds the three students in the elevator and sprays them with gasoline, enjoying the sound of their screams. She pulls out a stick and lights it on fire, staring at it for a moment.

“Put it down Clara!” the male student yells.

Hotch attempts to talk her down, but she keeps telling him that they need to be tested or they’ll face God’s wrath. She mutters about Charown, Charon, Moloch, and other religious deities. Dean sprints up the stairs with Gideon, hearing a gunshot. Gideon stomps out the fire starter while Dean and Hotch hold their guns on Clara. She was helped downstairs and taken to medical care. Dean worked with the campus security to help the students out of the elevator.

The BAU had decided to stay the night and fly early in the morning the next day. Sam and Dean drove over to the hotel the agents had been staying at. Morgan walked over to the Impala, striking up a conversation with Dean on the car. Sam headed towards Spencer, walking with purpose to get to the man. “Hey Spencer. I was wondering if I could get your phone number? I’d hate to lose touch with a genius,” Sam smiled as he spoke. Spencer nodded and spouted off his phone number, watching Sam punch it into his contacts.

“I sent you a text so you can put me in your contacts. Don’t be a stranger, okay? It was nice finding someone so easy to work with.”

“I-I’ll see you around Sam.”

“Yeah, I hope so.”

Sam walked over to the Impala and got in, waving goodbye to Spencer as the brothers sped off to whatever case they had next in line.

Spencer watched until they were completely out of view before entering the SUV next to him, grab bag in hand. He had a feeling he’d see Sam again.

#spencer reid x reader #Spencer Reid #Sam Winchester #Sam x Spencer #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic series #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #cm fanfic #angst #fluff #pining #mlm

[malethirsty]

Shifting Relationships: Sam Merlotte

Summary: It’s a rough love story, man meets boss, man falls into seemingly one sided relationship with boss, but what if all it took to bring out another side was a simple day like National Horny Day.

Warnings: M/M smut (21+), Bareback (Wrap Before You Tap!)

Inspired by: https://twitter.com/malethirst/status/1205305932273446913?s=21 & The concept of National Horny Day

This service day would be chaotic to say the least, to say it would be naturally busy is a gross understatement. At Merlotte’s Bar and Grill in Bon Temps, Louisiana, when prompted for marketing ideas you had suggested the idea of capitalising on major days in pop culture & society in order to net more customers, and your boss Sam Merlotte had been rather impressed by this. It worked positively as more people did come in, willing to part with their cash for some good old Southern hospitality and cooking, unfortunately it meant you had to cover those pop culture days that seemed utterly ridiculous, so when something like National Horny Day popped up, you wanted the floor to swallow you whole. The people of Bon Temps were normal sorts of folk, but any chance anyone got drunk or rowdy, then the entire mood changed & you were worried a spill out onto the streets would result in bad press and you waiter position being taken away, and Hell Hath No Fury Like You if someone in Bon Temps took away your position in the bar.

“Can we get an area of the premises where people can fuck?” You asked Sam, a few weeks out from the day in question. As you predicted, Sam spluttered at your suggestion “W-What? No Y/N, we are running a restaurant, not a brothel!” He responded with a shocked tone, and you quickly doubled back to explain yourself “I mean people here in Bon Temps can get overly passionate once drunk and filled with enough horniness, I thought it would be better to contain it, rather than let our town be a national circus act.” You were blushing, it was quite awkward to tell all of this to your boss. Sam turned to you, a grin starting to form “You know what Y/N, that actually sounds like a good idea, the area can be free so we don't profit off it, and people can maintain whatever composure they have without creating a mass blow out.” “Really?” You wondered and Sam nodded his head “How are we going to work it then, cause buildings take a long time to put up, and it would have to be big so that it isn't one coupling per sesh, cause that would cause more harm than good and-” you hadn’t realised you’d been blabbering without breath before Sam took ahold of your hands and looked into your eyes, a reassuring shade of blue gazing into your frantic soul “Calm down Y/N, you get so worried about things sometimes, take a breath.” He breathed in slowly through his nose and out of his mouth, you repeated his action till you calmed down “Y/N, I will handle it, you don't have to worry your pretty head about any of it”

You blushed subtly, at least what you hoped was subtle. You had a crush on your boss for quite a long time, in fact it had happened once you caught sight of him when you went to drop your resume off at Merlotte’s, when you first glanced at him, you thought as if a denim wrapped angel had fallen from the sky and into your life, he wasn’t built like society’s muscular gruff man, but you didn’t care, you’d gladly take this denim wrapped stud over anyone else. You had a big smile on your face when Sam called you back for an interview, and kept up a positive attitude in his office, so much so it led to your position. You always had a spring in your step to do whatever he asked, your heart fluttering when he turned the corner and observed the bars goings on (You made extra sure that service was top tier when you were the one out on the floor). It had been that way for a long time, but you’d kept it all to yourself due to your nerves. Thankfully Sam did not pick up on it, and smiled at you "Now, you get the outside cinema ready for the adults, and I'll take care of matters inside", and with orders now given, you sprang into action before anything else could occur.

Sam was right, people had kept themselves composed at Breakfast where the bar was only open to those experiencing the morning after, you had served Jason Stackhouse and a number of women at one booth with a smile. Lunchtime was when adults gathered in the Outdoor Cinema you set up, where a mattinee of Last Tango In Paris was being shown. The intigue the audience had toward the movie was prominent, as you bustled around waiting the customers on the side tables nexts to their seats. With a massive lot of plates covering your arms, making you look like you were attempting a balancing act rather than waiting a table, Sam stepped up to help “Looks like you might need a hand.” He grinned at you “Yeah I do Mr. Merlotte, thanks!” Sam’s hand brushed against yours as he took a plate and you drew a sudden deep breath, Sam stopped for a moment, looking at you, obviously hearing the deep breath, but seemed to decide nothing of it as he collected and escorted the plates out to the team that had also moved outside to cook. You rushed into the restaurant, blissfully empty and made your way to the bathroom where you rested against the door, taking in the moment, almost like how Marilyn Monroe would marvel at a diamond ring.

Eventually you pulled yourself from your thoughts of Sam and noticed you were hard in your work pants "Oh damn it!" You groaned. It was hard enough to work alongside Sam, but even worse when you were hard. Knowing this wouldn't go away, you moved towards the toilet, and pulled down your pants. Gripping ahold of your cock, you began to stroke it to thoughts of Sam finally combatting the sexual tension between you at closing and fucking you on the Pool Table, focusing on his beautiful body, how soft his lips were, how hard his nipples could get, how big his cock was, how it would stretch out your walls, how rough his pace was, the delicious Southern voice whispering a manner of dirty things into your ear. You had gotten closer and closer to the edge as time passed, moans and cries of Sam's name from your mouth growing louder and louder until you finally cried out as you shot your load into the toilet. You gathered paper up and tossed it down, and full flushed, determined to get rid of your moment of pleasure, not that others would mind someone walking in the bathroom on National Horny Day, but it was your boss you'd pleasured yourself over and you weren't in the mood for being sentimental. Your process was interrupted by a knock at the door, shit. Not noticing you must have spent a long time to the point you had accidentally caused a cue, you rushed washing your hands "I'll be out in a moment" you shouted back as you rushed the drying of your hands and opened the door. However no one stood in the doorframe, “Hello?” you questioned, a woof breaking the silence. You looked down to see a dog sitting on the floor, you breathed a sigh of relief, maybe the person at the door gave up and walked away, and besides, the dog couldn't have knocked, they don't have hands. “Hey! How did you get inside?” you asked stooping down, the dog turned it’s head towards the back door, as if that somehow explained it, so you crossed over to see if a door had been left open, however no doors were unlocked, and you needed a key to get back inside, you & the other Merlotte's staff had been briefed on National Horny Day protocol by Sam to not let patrons inside the restaurant for Lunch. “Well no one’s outside, let me see where my boss is, maybe you have a tag or something and I can work out where you belong.” The dog shook it’s head as if it understood you but that seemed ridiculous, animals couldn’t understand big complex sentences like that. You were about to turn to Sam’s office when the dog gave a wail “Oh, you don’t like being alone" You stretched out your hands "Come on, let me take you to Mr. Merlotte’s office, I think you’ll like him.” You made to pick up the dog, when something happened, the dog somehow morphed into none other than the naked form of your Boss! You froze in place, literally stunned.

“Y/N, don't freak out alright, let me explain.” you heard Sam say, shock overtaking you “What? How? What?” You went on, however Sam crossed to you & placed his index finger on your lips, you immediately fell silent “I'm a shifter, I have the ability to turn into any living animal on Earth as long as I’ve imprinted on it first, which I do by locking sight with it, I keep a picture of the dog you saw up in my office for easy access.” You had seen the picture before but thought it was a dog that had no value or had passed, so you never bothered him about it. Sam drew a long breath, you could see that this had been a massive weight to come off his shoulders “Y/N, please say something.” “You turned into a dog while I was working, and then shifted back in front of me, naked I might add, I need a moment.” You held onto the wall to steady yourself “Do you want water or?” Sam asked “No I need to control my breathing like earlier.” You responded back, slowly but surely steadying yourself, stopping a massive outburst of anger or confusion, you didn’t know what. After a while, you had gathered yourself, looking up you saw Sam looking both worried and sad all at once “I’m alright Sam” you said, which seemed to relax him “So you’re a shapeshifter, like a vampire but also not at the same time.” “Supes are what people like us are, short for supernaturals.” He explained “So who else knows about this?” “Very few people, please keep it that way.” You nodded, you’d worked out his motivation becoming clear for keeping you back, but you still had questions “How come I’m only finding out about this now?” "I guess I needed to get the right amount of courage to say what I needed to say, kind of like how were keeping in your desire for me." Sam responded. How could he have known that? He wasn't there! All you had heard was a knock at the door and shifted Sam outside of it and dogs didn't have hands, 'But Sam as a human before he turned does' you realised in the back of your head, your mouth going dry.

You stood frozen in place, actually stuck, not knowing what to do, what to say, or how to respond to knowing that Sam had heard you pleasuring yourself to thoughts of him. Sam made his way over to you “‘I know you want me Y/N, so let’s see what else that talkative mouth is good for.” And Sam shoved you against the wall and kissed you, deeply. It was as if a dream had suddenly burst into life right in front of you, like fairy dust had rained down, like the sun shined bright and the stars came out to shine for this alone, you closed your eyes taking in the moment, Sam’s lips against yours, tongue slipping between your lips and teeth and into your mouth, tangling with yours. Sam soon pulled away, leaving you flushed “I've known since the first day, I could smell your lust on you. I was flattered, but once that faded, I knew I loved you as well, and now we're gonna make up for lost time. On your knees” You barely recognised the rough impact your knees had with the wooden floor as you took Sam’s cock into your mouth, sucking deep. “Oh yeah, I’ve been dreaming bout this, how good your mouth would be round my cock, keep going Y/N, fuck!” You ran your tongue over the head of Sam’s cock, tasting the precum building up there, making Sam’s legs begin to buckle “Fuck get up Y/N, pool table now.” He grabbed your hand and rushed over to the other side of the bar, ridding you of your garments along the way, you noticing the beds structured around the bar "Sam, did you set up the horny den here, in the middle of the bar?" You questioned and he shrugged "You were right, it takes long to build outhouses, and we can regulate this evening's speed dating sessions to outside, but fuck all that Y/N, I’m so horny, I need you, your mouth your ass, all of you, Fuck!” Now finally both naked, you got up onto the pool table, Sam moving on top of you. “I want you Y/N. I want to be deep inside you.” "Then take me Mr. Merlotte" you breathed out "Call me Sam baby" he smirked down at you before pushing his cock forwards, burying it in your ass. You cried out, the sting apparent, Sam detecting it, soothed you with wet kisses to your face, and down your neck “Relax Y/N.” Sam said soothingly, and you listened and tried to get used to the sensation of Sam thrusting forwards, as he found a rhythm to fuck you to. “So hot” he groaned as your walls clamped down around his dick “God you're fucking tight Y/N, Goddamn!” He praised. "Fuck Sam, keep going! Fuck me with all you got Shifter" you grinned at him, and smirking back Sam fucked harder, causing you to arch into him "That's right, back your ass onto my cock & arch your back for me. Fuck yes!" You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking you in place as your boss continued to fuck you with everything he had, balls slapping against your ass. "Fuck, this is so damn hot Y/N, don't you love this? Your boss, filling you up with his cock while everyone's outside, you finally getting the man you deserve, I'm gonna have to watch myself round you now, I'll get a glimpse of your ass, mine now, and I'll think back to tonight, and then I'll be in the bathroom stroking myself to you, may even let you get me off. "Suddenly he flipped you over and began to trail his head over your chest, smelling you and rolling around “I’ve got to give you my scent, you already smell great, best scent I’ve ever smelt, but I need to get mine in there.” He explained, worried you would be freaked, he was surprised when completely unpeterbed you leant up to his face and licked the sweat off, trailing down to his chest to do the same, taking time to get a grip on his chest hair. “You don’t need to worry about me not getting you Sam, I’ve already gotten you, consider that me returning the favour.” With a softly growled “Fuck!” Sam kissed you, whilst resuming his new rough pace, the air filling with growls and grunts from the shifter, and pretty moans and groans from your mouth “Fuck I love you Y/N, I fucking love this.” You were a horny mess before your boss, needing, craving more of him, so you begged “Fuck Sam, more!” Sam obliged you, as he began to grunt louder, the sound sounding so amazing to you, he was committing these pleasurable noises because of you “Fucking insatiable, I fucking love it! By the end of this week, our scent will be filling my trailer, my office, hell even the woods where I run.” You threw your head back, letting any single lustful sound fall from you as Sam continued. The end was approaching for you, much to your displeasure which Sam was able to read from your scent “Don’t worry bout it, after service is done for tonight, I’ll take you to my trailer, gonna shower you up so you're all pretty for me, then get you in my bed and we’ll fuck the rest of the night away, alright?” Sam looked down at you, panting heavily, glistening with sweat. You couldn’t find words, so you nodded instead. Sam continued to fuck into you now stroking your cock on top of everything else and within moments you cried out a string of lustful praises to Sam as you shot your load all over the both of you. “Fuck, that’s real nice Y/N. You’re gonna make me cum. You gonna take all of my load?” he asked you breathlessly, needing your approval. Getting enough breath into your lungs you simply got out “Yes!” Sam fucked rougher, with your walls clenching down, milking him of everything he had “I’m going to give you a raise Y/N, you’re gonna make me cum, FUCK!” Sam exploded out in a moan as he shot his load deep, his arms that had been holding him up gave way, causing him to collapse onto you. Panting he gave you a string of kisses, some hickeys down your neck “Mmm. Y/N, was it worth the wait.” “Fuck yes.” You moaned causing him to laugh “Yeah it fucking was, for me as well. God I’m gonna fucking love the time we’re gonna have, gonna get you all showered, fuck a few more times, maybe I’ll cancel tomorrow, so no one can disturb us, make your ride me naked in my office, while I moan out all kinds of dirty things while you take my cock like a slut.” “Yeah, I’d like that.” “Then you got it cheré.” He picked you up off the pool table and tossed you your clothes, placing his Merlotte's shirt back on “Happy Horny Day Y/N.” He said happily sated, looking over at you with a grin “Happy Horny Day Sam.” You returned with equal charm.

#Sam Merlotte #Male Reader #Sam Merlotte x Male Reader #Sam Merlotte Smut #x male reader #fanfic #smut #x male!reader #Reader Insert #Scent Kink #Sweat Kink

[theclaravoyant]

a Noble tradition

The Doctor loves Christmas, so Ryan, Yaz, and Graham take her to a local Christmas market on Earth, where she runs into some unexpected old friends. (*Very* old friends.)

AN ~ I was prompted to write a fic where Thirteen meets Donna, and I really got into a nostalgic Noble family mood with it. I wouldn't technically call this fluff, but it's bittersweet with a positive outlook and lots of wholesome platonic goodness. Enjoy <3 (but please note Donna doesn't remember the Doctor, because I enjoy suffering too much)

Relationships: The Doctor & Wilf, The Doctor & Donna, Team Tardis 13/The Fam

Read on AO3 or Pillowfort (word count ~1900)

a Noble tradition

“I love Christmas,” the Doctor remarks cheerfully, beaming as she looks around at the market Yaz, Graham and Ryan have brought her to. There are baubles and strips of tinsel draped from every snow-and-pine-covered surface, bells jingling, and carols warbling over a distant speaker. “So colourful. And everybody’s nice to each other, mostly. Not that people should need an excuse, but…”

She trails off, distracted by a tray of gingerbread men someone is carrying past. She follows it to a patisserie stall and Graham, ever grateful for the opportunity for food, jumps at the chance to follow her while Yaz and Ryan trail a few steps behind, admiring the handmade wreaths and glowing lights and hats with unnecessarily long ear flaps that decorate the nearby stalls. By the time they reach the Doctor, she has already picked out their gingerbread folk, and passes them around enthusiastically. They are fresh and warm in the frosty air, and Yaz and Ryan accept them with delight as the Doctor begins to regale them with a story of a town called Christmas on a planet oh so far away from here - a tale Graham briefly interrupts to pass her a jam donut shaped and decorated like a Christmas tree, and which as a result, diverges into one about the time a Christmas tree nearly killed her. Naturally.

“Hold on,” Graham remarks. “All that funny business at Christmas in London a few years back, was that all you?”

“Well-“

“Oh yeah!” Yaz cries. “Pig in a spaceship? Disappearing hospital? My cousin was in there, you know. Said something about alien rhinoceros?”

“Well, it was- I mean, I was there,” the Doctor explains as all three of them look around at each other, impressed. “And it was actually more of a space vampire. The space rhinoceros were just looking for her.”

“Oh, well that’s alright then,” Ryan shrugs, smirking as the illustrious, ancient, alien defender of earth takes a gigantic bite out of the tree-shaped donut and in doing so, all but buries her nose in jam and bright green icing. Her eyes are bright with mirth for a moment and then - mid-chew, like a deer on high alert - she pauses.

Graham, Yaz and Ryan eye each other warily.

“I know that voice,” the Doctor whispers.

“We about to become one of those stories then, Doc?” Graham offers. “Assassin Santas running about or something?”

He glances up and down the fairway of the market. Ryan is wondering how effective a nearby baguette would be as a weapon. Depends what they’re facing, he supposes. He can already see Yaz mapping the exits, figuring out which would be best to heard civilians toward in the case of an emergency, but then the Doctor leaps into action.

“Quick!” she orders. “Hide me!”

“What?”

She runs a lap around the display table, trying to figure out where to go, and settles for nicking one of those beanies from the neighbouring stall instead, with the really long ear flaps. This one is deliberately designed to look like a cartoonish reindeer, with stuffed antlers sewn on and all, and it really would look utterly ridiculous if they weren’t all so busy trying to gauge the danger as the Doctor bustled around and muttered to herself. Probably not all that dangerous then, or she’d be rallying them instead, but try as they might to ask her what is going on she - as per usual with the first go round of things - doesn’t quite have time to clearly explain.

“What’s the point of that?” she frets, tugging at the hat. “He doesn’t know what I look like. It’s fine. It’ll be -“

She cuts herself of when she realises that the man in question is already at the stall, staring her in the face. He’s got on an old hand-knitted sweater with pine trees stitched into it, and red foam antlers around his head. He beams, full of merriment, and gestures to the treats on the table.

“These yours then?” he asks. “Love the hat!”

“Wilf.” She doesn’t mean to say it, doesn’t mean to give herself away, but how can she not? She has missed this family for so long, and this is the man she died for all those years ago. She just knows that he’s been watching the sky for her, all this time, and she wonders if he knows how grateful she is for that constant reminder that she is not alone.

Wilf, of course, is good natured but confused by all the carryings-on. He laughs it off as the Doctor releases him from the hug, and watches her with a strange expression. But he is very bright, and there’s something about this strange woman, so he tries something. Nods to Graham and suggests -

“All these young whippersnappers with you? You should take them round the corner, there’s one of them police boxes, like the ones from when we were young. Amazing. It’s like going back in time.”

He sets his eyes very deliberately back on the Doctor for that last part, and she’s smiling and almost crying at the same time. Oh, she has missed him. But now he knows, so she opens her arms and gestures to her new self.

“I told you I was going to change, didn’t I?”

“Blimey,” Wilf remarks. “Did a good job of it. Even if you are dressed like a rainbow upchucked on a fisherman.”

“Told you,” Ryan mutters. Yaz elbows him.

Wilf’s face lights up upon seeing they’re with the Doctor, and he gleefully shakes everyone’s hands and introduces himself to the full circle.

“This is Wilf, he’s an old friend,” the Doctor adds. “Very old friend.”

“How long’s it been?” Wilf wonders.

“A long time,” the Doctor breathes. “Decades. Centuries. Depends who you ask, really.”

“And you still remember us old things?”

He looks so surprised, it almost hurts, and the Doctor wonders if he’ll ever know what it feels like not just to miss someone, but to miss missing them… and then to get them back, if only for the briefest of moments. A smile touches her lips and she promises -

“Always.”

Wilf smiles back, with a solemnity that suggests he knows something of what she’s going through, at least enough to begin to imagine, and without further prompting he offers -

“She’s good, you know. Doing well. Started up her own contracting place a few years back, business services they call it - managing temps, bookkeepers, IT, all that stuff. She’s in charge of the whole thing, and getting quite a good reputation too.”

“Good on her,” the Doctor praises, and she can’t help but smile. “Helping people, and ordering them around all day. Sounds right up Donna’s alley.” Wilf laughs. “It’s a struggle sometimes, but she’s really grown, you know. I thought it would all go away after… after you left… but she is finding her feet again. Really taking responsibility for herself and grabbing life by the horns, eh? Bloody fierce, she is, I knew she could do it.”

“THERE you are!”  

Before the Doctor can so much as open her mouth to respond, there is an interruption. It’s a new voice, but an old one. It’s seared into the Doctor’s soul. (Speak of the devil, Wilf remarks fondly.) Upon hearing it, the Doctor freezes. Should she run? Hide? Dive behind the table? Suddenly it’s too late and that red hair is already here. A quiet voice whispers in her head: she doesn’t know what you look like. It is going to be okay. She doesn’t know. She can never know.

“What’s all this, then?” Donna wonders, looking around the gathering that has formed. Only half-jokingly, she points at Wilf and asks the Doctor, “Is he bothering you?”

She can never know. Words freeze on the Doctor’s tongue.

“I wasn’t bothering anyone, sweetheart,” Wilf insists. “We just got to talking, that’s all.”

“Bonding over crazy Christmas headgear, I see,” Donna remarks, eyeing the Doctor’s hat. Just as the Doctor is about to regain control of her voice, a pattering of tiny footsteps come crunching through the snow, and Donna sweeps a little blonde boy into her arms.

“This is my great-grandson Devon,” Wilf introduces, because of course, as far as Donna is concerned there’s no need. What is puzzling is the gestures he is making, until he explains a moment later, “He is deaf. Donna adopted him earlier this year. This is our first Christmas all together as a family!”

The Doctor beams, but finally manages to stumble into a response. Quite convincingly if she does say so herself, and with signs to boot.

“That’s brilliant! Merry Christmas! Have some gingerbread, on me!”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Donna jests. “Devon, what do we say to the nice lady?”

Blushing, Devon musters up the courage to say:

“… I like your hat, Nice Lady.”

The Doctor laughs. “He’ll fit right in, this one.”

Ryan hands her a cookie, which she passes onto Devon with pride. Donna nudges him.

“What do we say?”

“Thank youuuuuuuu,” Devon recites.

“Thank you,” Donna repeats genuinely as she takes a cookie for herself and, at this collection of strangers’ insistence, another for Wilf. “We should be going before Mum loses her head. Come on, Granddad.”

“Come on, Granddad!” Devon mimics in an exasperated tone. Yaz grins and hides it behind her hand, and Wilf sighs dramatically and makes a show of adhering to his dear family’s wishes. He spares one last glance for the Doctor, and a fond nod; a promise of all the things they’ve left unspoken. The Doctor stares after him for a long moment, until bittersweet tears fill her eyes beyond seeing, and then she wrenches the hat off her head because if she thinks of how Wilf-like it is for one more second…

She blinks the tears away, and turns back to her friends.

Ryan, Yaz, and Graham say nothing, and they’re all looking at her with such sympathy in their eyes it almost makes her tear up again. Instead, the Doctor takes a deep breath.

“I warned you to be sure when you travel with me,” she reminds them. “It doesn’t always end well.”

The others share a look. They could take this moment to ask any number of questions - was it Wilf who had travelled with the Doctor, or just Donna? Why did Wilf remember, and not Donna? What exactly did Donna not remember and why did the Doctor look like that about it all?

Instead, Ryan offers encouragingly; “I dunno, she looks alright to me."

The others nod in agreement and the Doctor finds her spirit is lifted. Donna is driven, successful, and loving, and so very loved, and as painful as things had been ending between them, the Doctor could hardly ask for a better life, even for her best friends in the world.

Gingerbread, surely, is the least she can do.

“Shall we get a box of these to go, then?” she suggests.

“I don’t know about you, Doc,” Graham puts in, “but right now I could go for something a little stronger than gingerbread.”

Yaz nods. “Here here.”

“They do mulled wine at the pop-up round the corner,” Ryan informs them. “Tis the season and all that, right?”

“Right,” Graham agrees. “I’m sold.”

“Me too,” Yaz says, and all three of them turn to look at the Doctor, who tucks a gift box full of gingerbread under her arm for good measure, dumps a frankly ridiculous amount of money into the cashbox, and gestures for her friends to lead the way.

#doctor who #dwfic #thirteen #thirteenth doctor #the doctor & donna noble #the doctor & wilfred mott #teamtardis13 #clara's fic tag

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

Your Love - Harry Styles AU - Part 7

Part 6

When you and Harry got back to your hotel room, you threw your bag down onto the floor and took off your shoes. You laid back on the bed and groaned.

“I’m starving and I’m exhausted,” you laughed.

Harry laid down next to you. “I bet. You smashed it out there tonight,” he smiled kissing your head.

You smiled. “So, did you and Nick have fun?”

“We did,” he nodded. “Although, I have to admit... I was feeling a little jealous whenever you were dancing with your backup dancers.”

You giggled a bit. “Really?”

He blushed. “Yes, I couldn’t help it.”

“Would you rather get up on stage the next show and be my new dancer?” You smirked.

“Yeah, I’m not that jealous to go and make a fool of myself,” he laughed.

You laughed. “Are you hungry? I can order us some food,” you said.

“The hotel kitchen is open this late for room service?” He asked.

You nodded grabbing the phone.

“Okay, then Um I’ll just have whatever you’re having,” he said.

“Want to share a pizza?” You asked.

He nodded. “That’s fine.”

You dialed the number for room service and placed an order for a medium pizza and some drinks. When you were done, you placed it back on the hook and turned back to Harry.

“Did Nick give you a hard time about us?” You asked him.

He shook his head. “I feel like he’s happy for me as long as I’m happy, but there’s also a small part of him that disapproves because of the job situation,” he said.

“It makes I guess,” you said. “But it’s not like anyone is going to know about us for a while anyway.”

Harry didn’t respond, he just wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door and Harry went to answer it. The food was brought up, so he brought it in and you both ate it on the bed, while you found something to watch on the TV. Once you were finished eating, you got up from the bed and cleaned it off.

“I think I’m in the mood for a nice, warm bath,” you said. “What about you?”

“Did you read my mind?” He smirked. “I’d love too.”

“Okay, I’ll get everything ready,” you said walking into the bathroom.

The bathroom in the hotel was quite spacious and had a huge jacuzzi tub. You turned the water on and got the temp just right before dropping a bath bomb in the water. You grabbed towels from under the sink for when you two were done. Harry walked in bringing the wine bottle and two glasses in the bathroom. He put his phone on the counter and turned on some music. He walked over to you and helped you take off your clothes, while you did the same to him.

He smiled pressing his lips against you and pulling you close to him. You smiled kissing him back before pulling away and getting into the tub. Harry followed you and sat down in the water. He pulled you to him and placed his hands on your shoulders. He softly and slowly began massaging your shoulders and you closed your eyes.

“That feels amazing,” you smiled.

“Well, as much as you swing your head around on stage I’m surprised you haven’t thrown your neck out of alignment,” he laughed.

You giggled. “It has happened before.”

“Not on my watch,” he smirked as he continued his motions.

After a while, you turned around to face him. He pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around you. He kissed your neck before planting kisses along your collarbone. He then pressed his lips against yours and you wrapped your arms around his neck. He pulled away after a bit and pressed his forehead against yours, leaving you both smiling.

“I’ve never... I’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” he whispered. “You make me nervous... you make me happy... you make my heart skip a beat... we just met and I’m already feeling something for you... it’s fucking crazy right?” He laughed.

“If you’re crazy, then I’m crazy too,” you smiled. “Because I know exactly how you feel.”

“I really hope we can make whatever this is work when you leave,” he whispered.

“Me too,” you nodded running your hand over his chest.

He smirked and brought his hand up to yours and mimicked what you were doing to him on your chest.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You smirked.

“Oh... nothing...” he said innocently running his hands over your thighs.

“Why is that your nothing always turns into something?” You giggled.

“Because it just does,” he said pressing his lips against yours.

The water started getting cold, so you two quickly got out. You were freezing as soon as the air in the room hit you. Harry grabbed the towel and wrapped it around you and rubbed your arms a bit before wrapping his towel around his waist. You took his hand into yours and walked into the bedroom. Water still dripped down your legs because neither one of you actually bothered to use the towels to dry off.

You stopped just shy of the bed and turned around to face Harry. You dropped the towel and wrapped your arms around his neck before pressing your lips to his. He put his hands on your hips and deepened the kiss between the two of you. When you needed the oxygen, you pulled away from him and started kissing his neck and chest while loosened the towel and let it fall from his waist. As your lips trailed kisses along his chest, you had placed your hand on him and slowly moved it up and down.

“Fuck,” he groaned out.

You smirked up at him as you brought your lips lower and replaced your hand with your lips before wrapping them around him. He jerked a bit as soon as he felt you. His hands were in your hair as you slowly moved up and down. You looked up at him and saw his closed eyes and his mouth open as he cursed out. You kept moving until he let loose and he pulled you up to your feet. 

He pressed his lips to yours with such passion, you lost your balance and fell onto the bed. There was hunger in the kiss that made your movements sloppy and quick, yet still not quick enough. He ran his hand over you, but you pushed him away before pushing his shoulders back onto the bed. You brought your lips to his again and ran your hands through his hair. 

His hands roamed the skin of your back and your ass before planting them there. You let out a moan when he gave the same attention he had given to your shoulders earlier in the night. You reached over and took a condom out of his wallet that he placed on the bedside table and slid it on. You quickly, but carefully sat on top of him and moved at a slow and steady, yet passionate pace. 

He sat up and wrapped his arms around you, his forehead against your chest as he pushed himself into you, meeting your movements. You threw your head back and bit your lip as you tried to contain the moans from leaving your body. When you were at his place, you didn’t care if the whole neighborhood heard you, but you knew at the hotel you were surrounded by the girls and other people you worked with and the embarrassment that hearing you fucking someone could bring. 

However, Harry had other plans. He reached up and pulled your lip out from your teeth. 

“I want to hear you,” he demanded. 

‘I-I Can’t,” you groaned. “They’ll here.” 

“Who the fuck cares,” he mumbled. “I know what you’re capable of... don’t fucking hold back on me now love...” 

You continued to move on top of him and contain any sound from leaving your lips. 

“Fine, if that’s the way you want it,” he mumbled.

He gripped your hips and picked you up off of him and laid you down on your side. He turned to spoon you and pulled your leg over him before pushing himself back into you. He wrapped his arm around you and grabbed your chest while he pushed himself into you slowly. You whimpered and reached down to touch yourself, but he stopped you. 

“If you want to come, then I’m going to need to hear you,” he smirked. “Until then, I’m not changing my speed.” 

“I hate you,” you mumbled. 

He smirked as pressed kisses on your shoulder. “All you have to do is let it all out, baby,” he whispered. “Don’t worry about anyone else... it’s just you and me.” 

You closed your eyes and fought back a moan every time you felt him. When you still hadn’t given in yet, he kept his slow pace, but pushed himself hard into, hitting exactly where you wanted it. You couldn’t hold back any longer and finally gave into him. He smirked and hovered over you as he quickened his pace. 

You looked him his eyes as he held himself up over you. “Fuck,” you groaned pulling him down to kiss him. You pulled on his hair and moaned into his lips. He picked up his pace even more and pressed his thumb against you. 

“Shit,” you cried and pressed your head into his shoulder. 

You were almost there and he knew it and he was determined to make you come as loud and big as he had previously. He awkwardly bent down and brought your chest into his mouth and kept going. You were now gripping the sheets in your hands and you were sure your nails were going to cut right through them. He sat up and pushed your legs wider apart and brought one of them onto his shoulder. 

It didn’t take long before you moaned out his name with a scream and something dripped on to him and the bed. He kept going with the same speed as he was quickly approaching. He completely lost when you had came for the second time in only a few short minutes. He slowed down his movements before sliding out of you and laying next to you on the bed. 

He wrapped his arms around you and you laid your head on his chest as he ran his fingertips along your back. You both still were in the process of catching your breath. 

“No one is going to let me live that down tomorrow,” you said. 

“Well, to fair, I’m sure you’re not the only one they heard,” he laughed kissing your forehead. 

“Do you have to be at the studio tomorrow?” You asked. 

He nodded. ‘My shift starts in about three hours,” he said. 

“Oh, then you better get to sleep,” you said. “We can’t have you falling asleep on the job.” 

He shrugged. “Falling asleep on the job is worth the sex we just had,” he smirked. 

You rolled your eyes as you reached over to turn the light off. “Goodnight,” you said. 

“Goodnight baby,” he whispered pulling the blanket over the two of you and closing his eyes. 

#One Direction Imagines #Harry Styles Imagines #Harry Styles AU #Your Love

[edxwin-elric]

Morning After

Checkmate Ch. 3

Rating: M

Pairing: Royai/Roy Mustang x Riza Hawkeye

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Word Count: 4425

Chapter Title: Morning After

Description: Royai multi-chapter/modern/BDSM AU where Riza, a cautious submissive, met Roy, an experienced Dom, and now there is sex with future romance potential.

A/N: This one is not smut. It’s more exposition and hints at romantic feelings. There are some smut allusions though.

tag || first || ffn || ao3

previous || next || ch. 3.5 (havolina)

Riza

A large hand slides across my back and around my belly, and I make a disgruntled sound.

“How are you feeling this morning?”

I mumble something unintelligible and curl up into a ball around the pillow I’m holding. Roy laughs softly behind me and strokes my neck, making me jump.

I wasn’t totally expecting to sleep in the same room. The same bed. But after he cleaned me up, he slid a t-shirt over my head and brought me up here. To be fair, I didn’t put up much of a fight. I like being with him.

“I thought you might want the first shower,” he speaks up again.

“What time is it?” I groan.

“After ten. You didn’t have work or something did you?” He frowns down at me.

I shake my head, rubbing my hair across the mattress.

“No…” I yawn.

Though, my dog will be wondering where I am if I don’t get home soon. But he’ll be all right for a little bit on his own.

“Seriously, Riza. How are you feeling?” he repeats the question in a low tone, and I open my eyes.

“You mean…about last night?”

He nods, and I feel my face heat.

“I’m fine,” I assure him, scooting back, so I’m leaning on the pillows behind me. “I don’t hurt or anything.”

“You’re sure?” He reaches out and cups my jaw, and I swallow at how nice it feels. “I don’t want you to hide anything from me. Even if it’s embarrassing, or you’re just shy about it.”

I don’t tell him it’s a little late to start getting embarrassed in front of him. That ship sailed the night we met.

“It’s sore,” I admit, looking down. “But not bad. Really. I’m okay.”

“Okay, good.” He runs his thumb over my cheek and moves his hand. “This arrangement only works if there are no secrets. I told you that before.”

“I remember, Roy.”

“Right.” He stands and turns to look back at me, lying on the mattress. “I take it you don’t want the first shower?”

“No. You can have it.”

“Okay.” He starts to walk toward the bathroom but stops in the doorway and looks back. “There’s coffee in the kitchen,” he informs me over his shoulder.

I blink in surprise before I catch sight of his sleep pants on the floor. My eyes snap up only to watch his firm ass disappear behind the steamed-up shower door. I bite my lip and look down, feeling a rush of heat between my legs.

I turn and slide out of the bed, stretching my arms over my head. I flinch when I feel a draft on my ass and look behind me. The shirt Roy gave me is unbelievably soft if not entirely long enough. I drop my arms and shuffle out into the hall and to the stairs. I freeze halfway down when I smell syrup. Frowning, I go the rest of the way to the kitchen, where I stop in the doorway and stare.

He said there was coffee. He failed to mention there was also bacon, scrambled eggs, orange juice, pancakes, and toast. How did I not smell this earlier? What time did he get up to start preparing all this? I mean, I knew he could cook since he’s mentioned it several times, but… And just how much food does he expect me to eat? There’s enough here for twenty people.

I take a small step into the kitchen and inhale, the delicious scents of well-cooked breakfast filling my lungs. With a glance over my shoulder at the stairs, I grab one of the plates set out and begin filling it. I’m in the middle of dying and going to heaven from the pancake that is melting in my mouth when I hear Roy behind me. I turn from my seat at the bar and watch him as he saunters into the room and goes straight to the coffee pot. My eyes travel from his damp, messy hair down the line of his bare back to where his pants are hanging loosely on his hips.

Yum.

“Good morning,” he says in a low voice as he turns to face me, sipping coffee from a dark mug. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes,” I nod, feeling unsure again of how to behave with him. “And, thank you. For breakfast.”

“Don’t mention it.” He shrugs and takes another drink.

“Is this, um, normal?”

“What?” He frowns. “Eating breakfast in the morning? Or–”

“I mean, do you usually cook breakfast for your subs?”

He doesn’t answer at first, taking a long drink of coffee and grabbing a strip of bacon from the plate. I watch as he chews, my eyes drawn to his insanely strong jaw. God. I’m getting wet just looking at him. Even his facial structure is sinful.

“No,” he murmurs finally.

“What?” I blink, my cheeks going pink.

“I don’t usually cook them breakfast. Nor do I buy them wine.” My eyes widen as he continues. “It’s also rare that I let them stay overnight. And even then, not in my bed.”

I feel all the air go out of my lungs, and I look down at my plate.

“But don’t read too much into it. I just have a fondness for you.”

What? What the hell does that mean?

I start to ask, but I don’t know how. And he doesn’t say anything after that. Just goes about his business, fixing a plate and sitting down on the stool beside me at the bar. As if he didn’t just confuse the life out of me.

“So, what do you have planned for today?” He turns to me casually before taking a bite of pancake.

“Uh.” I blink. “I… I have to walk my dog,” I answer lamely, still not entirely certain what just happened.

“I love dogs,” he says in a low voice. “So loyal. What breed is he?”

I frown.

“I’m not exactly sure, I guess. He was a stray one of my coworkers found, and no one else in the office would take him, so I said I would.”

“I see.” He nods. “So, what’s his name?”

“Black Hayate.”

He raises his eyebrows, and I immediately start trying to explain.

“I… He’s… It means ‘black hurricane’ in Japanese,” I mutter. “I don’t know why I… I like it. It fits him, I think.”

“Is he particularly destructive?” he goes on around another bite of food.

“No. He’s a very good boy.” I grin to myself. “But he’s stuck with the name now.”

We eat in silence for a few minutes until he speaks again.

“So, you mentioned an office. What do you do?”

“Oh, well. Um…” I swallow a bite of eggs. “I’m sort of between jobs right now.”

“Really? Are you looking for something? I might be able to find you a position at my firm. Though I suppose I should find out more about your skill set.”

I blush and shake my head.

“I’m really okay. Also, I’m not sure working with you would be the best idea.”

“Fair point.” He nods. “But go ahead and tell me about what you’re interested in. Or what you’ve done before.”

“I’m very organized, so I’ve taken reception jobs here and there. I was registered with a temp service for a while. Most recently I was a P. A. to a lady who started her own company… My father always wanted me to follow him into the field of scientific research. Specifically, chemistry. I’ll admit I’m good at it, but I didn’t care for it much.”

“What would you like to do?” he asks softly. “If you could choose.”

“I like flowers,” I admit, poking at a bit of toast.

“Flowers? You mean gardening or–”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a florist.” I turn to look at him. “I mean, I think arranging them would be interesting and calming, and flowers smell good… But I guess that’s sort of silly, since I don’t even own a flower vase.”

“Not if you want to do it,” he counters. “I think that sounds interesting.”

I sigh.

“Well, it’s either that, or I’m going to open a pet shelter.”

“Open one?” He frowns. “You mean start one from the ground up? That sounds expensive.”

“When my mother died, she left me some money,” I tell him on a shrug. “I could use that. I just don’t know.”

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “About your mother.”

“It was a long time ago. But…thank you.”

There’s another lull in the conversation where I finish most of my food, and Roy reaches across the bar to grab another handful of bacon. As soon as he drops the strips onto his plate, his phone buzzes on the counter, and I focus on my orange juice while he texts.

“I hate to have to cut this short,” he says slowly, “but it looks like one of my employees is having a crisis at the office. Nothing serious, but I’m going to need to go in and sort it out.”

“Oh.”

“Should we go ahead and make plans for our next meeting?”

A shiver goes down my spine, and I swallow. Right. I almost forgot, for a second, the nature of our relationship.

“I’m free on Wednesday and Thursday. This Friday I’m going out of town, and Saturday I have an engagement,” I mentally recall my calendar.

“Does Sunday work? Not tomorrow, but the next one.”

“I’m free all-day Sunday,” I murmur.

“Then let’s schedule it for then. I’ll text you later with a time.”

“Okay. I’ll go ahead and get changed.” I start to stand when he stops me with a hand on my thigh.

“You’re forgetting something, Riza.”

What? I blink.

“I am?”

“I haven’t given you your homework yet.”

My heart jumps into my throat, and I have to steady myself with a hand on the counter to keep from falling off my stool.

“Right,” I whisper.

He looks at me thoughtfully for a second before he shakes his head.

“Go ahead and get dressed. It’ll give me time to think.”

I nod and start for the stairs, ignoring the way my entire body feels hot and off balance. I’m afraid I’ll trip, but somehow, I manage to stay upright all the way to his room.

Roy

When she comes back down, I’m still sitting on the stool where she left me, the struggle to decide what assignment to give her still going on in my head. There are just too many things I want from her. To do to her. Ways she makes me hard.

Fuck.

“Have you, um, decided?”

I jerk my head up to find her standing in front of me wearing her clothes from last night. My eyes catch on her chest where the rosebuds on her bra are poking through. My cock hardens instantly. When I remember the matching thong, I almost groan.

“Roy?”

“Do you have a toy?” I grunt.

“What?” she whispers.

“A toy,” I repeat more clearly. “Do you have a toy?”

“I’m…not sure what you mean?”

“Something you use to get yourself off when you’re alone. A vibrator? Or a dildo?”

I watch her lips part in surprise, and damn if my already hard cock doesn’t turn to steel.

“Um, yes, I have a vibrator,” she admits, swallowing.

“What kind?”

She reaches a hand up and pushes her hair behind her ear.

“It’s, uh… It’s a g-spot, um, dildo vibrator,” she confesses. “It’s purple.”

“It resembles a penis?”

She nods once. “It’s not quite as big as yours,” she murmurs, and I suppress a laugh.

“Is it strictly for vaginal use?”

I watch her cheeks pale slightly.

“Riza?”

“It, um… I can use it on my nipples, my clit, my, um, pussy, or…in my ass.”

Fuck. I need to get my hands on this toy.

“Did you use your toy this week? After you sent me my pictures?”

She closes her eyes and nods, making my cock throb painfully.

“For your homework,” I start off, sliding off the stool, hoping to relieve some pressure, “anytime you’re wet this week, whether from thinking about our sessions or any other reason, and you’d like to use your toy to take care of it, you are to call me.”

“Call you?” she whispers.

“I’ll make sure your needs are met,” I promise, my voice dropping. “But I’ll be talking you through how I want you to use your toy.”

She bites her lip, and my eyes drop to where her thighs are clenching together.

“Are you wet right now?” I ask in a low tone.

She starts to nod.

“Yes, Sir,” she murmurs.

“Good. If you need to use your toy when you get home, you know what to do.”

“Yes.” She nods again.

“Oh, and before each call, I’ll want both a photo of your toy and the wet spot on your underwear.”

“Yes, Sir.”

I take a deep breath and roll my shoulders.

“I’ll see you Sunday, Riza,” I tell her softly, dropping my dominant voice. “Have a great week.”

“Thank you, Roy.” She gives me a small smile and lets herself out of the apartment.

Fucking fuck.

I’m going to kill Havoc.

Riza

When I get home, Black Hayate is waiting at the door.

“Good boy,” I bend down and rub him behind his ears as he wags his tail at me. “Are you hungry?”

He lets out a short bark and turns to pad over to his food bowl. After I feed him, I lean against the counter and stare at my phone.

I need to call Becca.

I can’t call Becca.

I mean… I think I like him. For more than sex. That’s the kind of thing Becca would be good at helping me with. On the other hand, if I tell her about that, I have to tell her…all of it. And then—

But, I mean, she’s Becca. So…maybe she’ll understand? Or I could be vague and say I’m into kink…

That’s dumb. Becca would immediately demand details, so that wouldn’t—

My phone starts ringing in my hand, and I let out a small yelp and almost drop it when Becca’s face appears.

Like…did she know? How?

After a calming breath, I press the green button and hold the device up to my ear.

“Hey. I was just thinking about calling you.”

“Oh really? Was it something serious?”

“Maybe? I’m not sure. Did you need something?” I shift my weight, my nerves making me restless.

“I was on my way to brunch and thought you might want to come with me.”

“Um…sure. I’m not very hungry, but I would like to talk.”

“It’s a date,” she announces.

“Oh, and I need to take Hayate out, so if we can find a café, that would be great.”

“I have one in mind. I’ll text you the address.”

“Thanks.”

She hangs up, and I go about getting my dog set for his walk.

When I arrive at the place Becca picked, I find her sitting at a table under the cover of an awning sipping a steaming coffee drink.

“So. What did you want to talk about?” she opens before I even sit down.

“Well…actually, it’s about Roy.”

“Ooh! Tell me everything. How was it last night?” she gushes.

I feel my face getting warm, and I distract myself by looking down and looping Hayate’s leash around my chair leg.

“That dirty?” Becca pipes up again, and when I meet her eyes, she’s giving me a deeply suggestive look.

“I… It…” I swallow and rub my palms over my thighs. “That isn’t what I wanted to discuss,” I mutter. “It’s more… Well, up until now we’ve been seeing each other strictly for sex–”

“And I’m so damn proud of you for that.”

“But,” I say over her, “this morning he made me breakfast, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t part of his usual morning after routine as far as booty calls go.”

“Riza Hawkeye: A Booty Call. What is this world I live in?” Becca sighs and looks up dreamily.

“Of course, that’s the part you got hung up on.” I roll my eyes. “Anyway, I’m confused. I need advice.”

“You like him,” she says cheerily, setting down her mug.

“Well, yes.”

“No. You like him. Not just his big dick.”

“Maybe, but I don’t–”

“And you think he likes you, but you’re not sure, and now you need to know because if he doesn’t, things will get totes awkwardville.”

“That is not a thing people say.”

“But it’s still true.” She takes another sip of her drink as her food arrives, and she beams up at the cute waiter.

“Whatever,” I mumble pointlessly.

“This is perfect,” she tells me after we’re alone again. “Jean just called to let me know he’s going to have the next few nights off. Now you can invite Roy Boy to double date with us.”

“Uh, Becca, didn’t you hear me? I don’t really know if he feels like I do. I mean, he might just want to fuck.”

And spank me. And blindfold me. And…

I squeeze my thighs together in my seat, and shift so I can cross my legs. I can’t think about this here.

“Then this will help us find out.”

“Well, not this week,” I reply. “I have things going on, and I need some more time to think about it before I decide to do anything drastic.”

“A double date isn’t drastic.” She waves her fork around with a bit of salad on it. “Sex without a condom is drastic.”

I frown at her and shake my head.

“Anyway, you still have to give me the details about last night.”

“No,” I state plainly. “I don’t. And I won’t.”

My panties are wet enough already without that going on again.

“Oh, come on! At least tell me what he thought of the lingerie.”

I sigh.

“He liked it. A lot.”

“Really? What did he do?” She giggles.

“His face got…sexier,” I murmur. “And when I looked down, there was a pretty serious bulge in his pants.”

“Damn, I need to meet this guy. Then what?”

“He sort of took his time taking them off of me. And then he fucked me. So…I’d say that was a pretty good sign.”

“Did you do it in a new position this time?”

I cough slightly and quickly recover before answering.

“We were on the couch this time. Missionary,” I tell her softly, my ass clenching at the memory of the plug. “But enough about that. Tell me about what you did.”

“Me?” She frowns. “I watched a few episodes of Friends and then used my rabbit to get myself off in the shower.”

“I guess it’s a good thing Jean will be off then.”

“Oh yeah.” She nods, smiling. “Tomorrow will be a full-on sex-a-thon.”

“Anyway, which episodes of Friends were you watching?”

I relax as she starts retelling me in great detail every line of the show between bites of her salad. I may still be unsure of what my feelings are about Roy—besides that I really like what we do during sex and also that he’s sweet when he isn’t making my body cry out in pain and pleasure at the same time. Sometimes even then. I mean, I do like him. Probably more than I should. I’m not sure exactly when that happened, but…

“Riza, are you even listening to me?”

I blink and look up at my friend.

“What?”

She exhales through her nose and gives me a disappointed look.

“Now I have to start all over.”

I grin to myself as she takes a deep breath before I reach under the table and pat my dog. For right now, I’ll try not to think about Roy. I don’t have to have everything figured out yet. Maybe when I see him on Sunday things will be clearer.

I bite my lip, thinking about what he might do Sunday night. I re-cross my legs and clasp my hands tightly in my lap, letting out a slow breath. I already know I won’t make it to Sunday without talking to him. At the rate I’m going, I’ll need to call him before dinner.

Roy

“Havoc,” I growl as I storm into my office. “You’d better have a serious fucking emergency on your hands to call me in like this on a Saturday.”

“It is, boss.” He stands from where he’s been leaning on my desk and looks me over. “Fuck. What’s wrong? You look ready to murder someone.”

“Well, yes,” I bite back, as I round my desk and fall into my chair, glaring up at him. “I was in the middle of having breakfast with a beautiful woman when you interrupted. So, if I look pissed, that would be why.”

“Oh.” He nods. “That explains it.”

He goes quiet, and I feel my jaw get tight.

“So why the fuck am I here?” I grind out. “Start talking, Jean. Or do I need to also tell you that the woman I was with was naked except for my shirt, and I had a whole different morning in mind.”

“Right.” He nods quickly. “Um, well, Madam Christmas called and the three guys she threw out last week came back again. This time they refused to leave and even threatened to hurt some of the girls who work the floor. They finally bailed after some of the other guys there forced them out, but she said the customers were freaked and the girls are shaken. As things stand, she doesn’t want to involve local police, but she wants a detail for tonight and asked that we do a little digging into these assholes.”

Shit. She probably called me first, but my phone was turned off because I was with Riza. Dammit. I’ll have to go by there and check on things.

“Thank you,” I tell him quietly. “This qualifies as an emergency, so you’re forgiven for ruining my morning.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“Now get out of my sight before I change my mind,” I grumble.

“Okay.” He starts for the door. “Oh, and before I forget, I’m not going to be available for the next three nights. Breda and Falman said they wouldn’t mind taking the job at Christmas’s though.”

“Good to know.”

I wave him away, and he disappears out the door. The last thing I want to do today is go visit Madam Christmas’s club. Not that I don’t like it there. I’m just not into the sex club scene these days. Plus, I don’t want to deal with her questions. Or the pleading looks from the subs who know I’m a Dom. I’m off the market, but they don’t know that. And I don’t think I want to take Riza to the club anytime soon. As much as I’d like to show her off, I like having her to myself more. And I doubt voyeurism is something she’s into.

Rising from my chair, I stride toward the door. The sooner I get this mess taken care of the better.

“So that’s really all I’ve got to go on.”

“That’s enough for me. Thank you.” I follow the lady out of the surveillance room and start for the stairs.

“Roy, wait. Stay for a drink at least.”

“I would,” I start, “but I have work to do–”

“You never come by anymore, and I’m curious about how you’re doing,” Madam Christmas interrupts. “Just one drink. On me.”

“Fine.” I sigh. “Whiskey. Dry.”

“I know.” She grins, leading me down to the main floor.

I slide onto a stool as she pours.

“So, have you met anyone lately?”

I take the glass from her and swallow a good amount before answering. The question is her way of asking if I’ve picked up a new sub. Besides being the proprietress of this place, and therefore knowing about my tendencies, she’s the woman who raised me. Growing up in the backroom of a sex club makes it no wonder how I ended up a Dom.

“Maybe,” I answer her cryptically.

“You’ll have to bring her by.” She leans on the counter. “Unless you’ve branched out to men. Have you?”

I snort into my drink. “She’s definitely a woman.”

“Well. I had to ask.” She grins. “And you like her?”

“I’m breaking her in.”

“I mean you like her,” she repeats. “Not that she gets you off.”

I swallow the rest of the liquor and set my glass down.

“I don’t know,” I admit quietly. “She’s…different than any sub I’ve had before. Than any of the women I’ve dated. But I’m not sure that means I’m interested in pursuing something with her outside of our agreement.”

“You are,” she tells me knowingly. “I can see it on your face.”

“My face?” I frown.

She nods slowly. “You’re forgetting I watched you grow up. I can read your face like a book. And it says you have a crush.”

“Crush?” I scoff. “I’m a grown ass man. I don’t get crushes.”

She gives me a skeptical look, and I scowl.

“Maybe I have…an interest. But it’s not a crush.”

“What’s her name?”

I debate answering for a moment, deciding if that’s something I’m ready for her to know. Riza isn’t a very common name, and with technology today she can run a thousand searches on her before I make it back to my apartment. I should know. Fuery is already running most of those searches on the bastards that have been harassing the clients at this place.

“Roy–” she starts to say something, but as she does, my phone starts ringing.

When I look down at the caller, I’m instantly on my feet.

“Excuse me,” I mutter. “I have to take this.”

Without waiting for her response, I turn and head for the door, answering it as I go.

“Riza?”

There’s a pause where I just hear a soft breath panting on the other end of the line.

“Riza? Are you there?”

And then a text comes through. I pull my phone away from my ear to look at it, and I almost trip and fall. I quickly catch my balance and jog to my car. The images she sent burned into my brain.

“Riza,” I say quietly, folding into the driver’s seat.

“Sir?” Her soft voice goes right to my cock, and I suppress a groan.

“Let’s get started.”

#royai #checkmate #dom!roy #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #fanfiction by me #my royai #roy x riza #royai fanfic #royai fic #fanfiction #fma fanfiction #chapter 3 #fueled by fire #roy mustang x riza hawkeye #fma #fmab #fullmetal alchemist

[arya3601]

Face Paints and First Meetings

Dean is a high schooler working part-time at a carnival, painting faces for the night. Castiel is a high schooler that isn't allowed to pick what he gets.

Read it on AO3!

A hand smacked the fold-out table that was Dean’s “booth”, his head jerking up from his phone at the sharp noise amid the hubbub of the crowd.

“Hey, there, artsy,” a short, blonde man said, grinning crookedly, hand still flat on the plastic surface, “My brother wants to get his face painted, and we were hoping you could help with that.” 

Dean raised his eyebrows but plastered on his professional, customer-service, dealing-with-rude-people smile. If the man couldn’t be bothered to read the stupidly bright and colorful sign declaring Face Painting, $10, there was a large chance Dean would need to work hard to keep his cool. “Well, you’ve come to the right place.” He stuck his phone in his pocket before waving vaguely at the assortment of paint-splattered brushes standing proudly out of a red plastic cup. Not incredibly professional, but he did work at a fall carnival, after all. It’s not like he could afford a nice studio set-up as a high schooler with a part-time gig. Plus, his usual clientele consisted of four-to-seven year olds, and as long as Dean knew how to paint Spider-Man, they couldn’t care less. “Long as you’ve got ten bucks, I’ll paint whatever he wants.”

 “Oh, it doesn’t matter what he wants.” The man grinned wider. “Ooh Cassie!” He turned and sang over his shoulder, “Come here!”

 “Cassie” parted from the throng and walked over, radiating embarrassment. He looked about Dean’s age, which was a welcome surprise after painting children all night. No offense to the little guys, but the squirming and nose wrinkling made it hard to paint straight. He was cute, too, Dean mused to himself. Dark, messy hair and blue eyes. The trench coat was a little weird, sure, but certainly not the worst choice to protect against the October temps. “Gabe, do we really have to do this right now?”

 “Yes.” Gabe’s face was serious, but Dean trusted that about as far as he could throw the guy. He could still see the corner of his mouth twitching and the wicked amusement in his eyes. “You agreed to this, bucko.”

 “Yes, but I thought it would take you longer to find someone.” Cassie muttered, rubbing his forearm nervously. His eyes were locked onto his brother’s, obviously trying to puppy-dog-eyes his way out of the situation.

 Damn. Guy could give Sam a run for his money. Dean chuckled quietly to himself.

 Unfortunately for Cassie, it seemed Gabe was immune to the look. He turned back to Dean, smirk firmly back in place. “Columbo here- “

 “Rude.” Cassie muttered quietly.

 “-has agreed to sit still while you paint whatever your little heart desires all over his pretty face. And then walk around with it all night, no matter what it is.”

 Dean blinked and slowly raised his eyebrows. “And just why would he agree to do that?” He glanced over at the teen, who still looked incredibly like he wanted to disappear.

 “Not your problem, sweet cheeks.” The blonde finally lifted his hand to reveal a crumpled ten on the cheap table. “We got ten bucks, you paint. Weren’t those the rules?” He gasped dramatically, covering his mouth with his hand, “Unless you changed them?”

 “No,” Dean plastered on his fake smile again, suppressing the urge to punch the guy. “Those are still the rules.”

 “Well, ain’t that just swell.” Gabe turned and raised his eyebrows at his brother, sweeping his hand dramatically to the wooden stool across from Dean. “You sit, Cassie. I’ll be back in twenty minutes. That cotton candy looks to die for. Paint something good!” Gabe disappeared as quickly as he had come, melting seamlessly into the Friday-night crowd.

 After a few moments, Cassie shuffled awkwardly around the table, lowering himself slowly onto the seat.

 It was almost comical, how much taller that made him than Dean. The stool was higher up, for the kids, so it put the guy at least a full head above Dean. This one might hurt his neck a little, Dean noted.

 “You know,” Dean began conversationally, fiddling with his paints, carefully avoiding eye contact. He felt like, if anything, that might make the guy more embarrassed. “If you want, we could just tell him to shove it. I won’t get fired or anything.”

 “No, I did agree to this.” The teen muttered, but he still sounded like he was marching into his own grave. His eyes were focused intensely on the red and white striped canvas wall behind Dean’s head.

 “Yeah, it’s frickin’ ugly, isn’t it?” Dean turned around to where Cassie was looking, trying to lighten the mood. “I tried to ask for a black one or something, but the owner of this place is really weirdly attached to the whole ‘carnival’ look.”

 Cassie cracked a small smile, shoulders loosening a bit. His feet rested on the bottom rung of the stool, legs clearly longer than the seat was made for.

 “So what’s your real name?” Dean asked, turning back. “I have a feeling it ain’t actually ‘Cassie’.”

 “No, it isn’t, Gabe just likes to call me that because he knows it bothers me. My name is Castiel.” It looked like the small talk was helping him relax, so Dean kept going.

 “Hate to agree with that guy,” Dean screwed up his face in distaste, leisurely picking up a brush. He was hoping if he started slowly, he wouldn’t spook the guy. “But it is kind of the older brother’s right to call the younger one nicknames. God knows I bug Sammy enough with it.” He dipped the brush into blue paint, almost absentmindedly.

 “Yes, well,” Castiel shrugged. “That doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it.”

 Dean chuckled. “No, it doesn’t.” He lifted his hand, bringing it up to Castiel’s face carefully, but not yet touching his skin. He smiled at the widened eyes, slight panic obvious in them. “The paint might be a little cold, but don’t worry. This doesn’t hurt at all.” He said soothingly, drawing from past experiences with freaked-out toddlers.

 “I’m not worried it will hurt.” Castiel screwed his eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed and nose crinkled. Dean sighed internally. So much for that, then. “I’m worried about what you’re going to paint.” He cracked his eyes open when he didn’t feel anything on his face.

 Dean laughed, lowering his hand again. “Don’t worry, dude. You seem like a really nice guy, so far, anyway, and I’m not the type to paint dicks on anyone’s face. Even if they’re a dick.”

 The slight blush and averted eyes told Dean that had been exactly what the other boy had been expecting.

 “No way, man!” Dean crowed. He felt slightly offended, but couldn’t help but sit back and laugh. “You thought I was going to draw dicks on your face!”

 A woman walking by his table cast an offended glare at him and hurried her little boy along. Dean snorted at the kid’s delighted grin, still giggling to himself.

 “Well!” Castiel began defensively, “You’re a high school boy! They draw dicks on everything!” He pointed at Dean, “Plus, if Gabe got to choose the design, he definitely would have told you to paint them on me.”

 Dean pursed his lips sympathetically, but couldn’t help the small chuckles still escaping. “Yeah, I met him for thirty seconds and I could see that. Don’t worry,” He held up his free hand, the other still resting on his knee with a dripping paintbrush. “I promise I will not paint dicks on your face. Scout’s honor.”

 Castiel squinted at him suspiciously, but nodded acceptance. “Okay, fine. You may continue.” His shoes squeaked on the cheap wooden rung. “I trust that you won’t paint inappropriate things on my face.” His face smoothed out as he relaxed again.

 “Oh, are all inappropriate things banned?” Dean grinned, quickly reaching up and swiping a few calculated lines on Castiel’s face. “I just promised no dicks, we didn’t talk about other stuff.”

 Castiel squinted at Dean again, lips pressed tightly together, obviously trying to figure out whether he was kidding. The crowd noise seemed louder in the silence, overlapping voices creating a rumbling background to the impromptu staring contest. “… you wouldn’t.” A game booth a few tents down started ringing some kind of bell.

 Dean snickered at the look, secretly thinking that it was adorable. It was like a puppy growling at you. Especially with the random streaks of blue across his forehead. “No, I wouldn’t. I’m joking, Castiel. I am not going to paint inappropriate things on your face.”

 “Good.” Castiel muttered, his face slowly returning to a calm expression. His hands tangled together in his lap, he still visibly looked a little unsure about the situation.

 Dean calmly reached up and started adding lines, dipping back into his paints every few strokes. “So why are you doing this?” He asked gently, dabbing color onto a temple. “Don’t get me wrong, face paint is a way better route than a tattoo or something, but no offense, you don’t really look like you want to be here.” He leaned in and stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he grabbed his thinnest brush, beginning to slowly add web-thin lines.

 “No,” Castiel protested softly, “I don’t mind it here. I like the energy. It’s almost like sitting in the middle of a thunderstorm.” His smile crinkled the wet paint next to his eyes.

 Dean felt the odd sensation of simultaneous disappointment at the smears and appreciation of the cute smile. He smiled and shook his head at himself, reaching up to fix the area.

 “I just don’t like to participate. It’s very suffocating, the crowds are…” He shrugged self-consciously. “Gabe says I plan too much. I’m not ‘impulsive enough’.” He did the little air quotes, the dork. “This was supposed to show that he was wrong.”

 Dean raised an eyebrow, adding more white to his paper plate “palette”, mixing a lighter shade of blue. “I don’t know, man, it kind of just sounds like an opportunity for him to mess with you.” He would know, he’d pulled schemes like this on Sam enough.

 Castiel sighed before scrunching his nose at the touch of the brush on the bridge of it. “Yeah, I figured that out about five seconds after I agreed to it. Like you said, though, face paint is better than a tattoo.”

 The game booth bell rang out again. “… he wouldn’t.” No way.

 “Oh, I assure you, he would.”

 Dean shook his head in disbelief. “Crazy, dude. Your brother is crazy.”

 “You don’t know the half of it.” Castiel muttered darkly.

 “Probably not,” Dean agreed. He used his free hand to gently push some curls off of Castiel’s forehead, smoothly adding a few more lines.

 Castiel’s eyes slipped closed, apparently now used to the feeling of the brush. “He once replaced every document on my laptop with a copy of the Bee Movie script.”

 Dean winced in sympathy. “Ah, damn. He didn’t erase anything super important, did he?”

 “No,” he sighed, “I had back-up copies of everything incredibly important.” His mouth twisted into what Dean could only describe as a pout, and a cute one. “It did put me a few days behind on a final paper, though.”

 “Yeah, I bet.” Dean said, dipping into some gray. “I haven’t done anything like that to Sam, just the little stuff. Itching powder in his underwear, spoon in his mouth while he’s sleeping,” he shrugged, even though he knew Cas couldn’t see it. “Nothing that would really hurt him or ruin anything critical.”

 Castiel scrunched up his nose again, and Dean sighed at the new smudges. “That’s certainly better than my brother, but it still doesn’t sound too pleasant for Sam.”

 “He always gets me back, don’t worry about him too much.” Dean carefully corrected the blotches and continued. “Don’t wrinkle your nose like that.” He admonished softly. “It messes up the paint.”

 “Oh, sorry, I didn’t think about it.” Castiel seemed embarrassed by that.

 “Not a big deal,” Dean tried to soothe, lightly brushing a few more curls out of his way. “You’re doing way better than my usual, promise. Have you ever tried to paint the Batman symbol on the cheek of a five-year-old who just finished his third cotton candy?” He shuddered loudly.

 “No,” the corner of Cas’ mouth twitched up faintly. “Can’t say that I have.”

 “It’s not for the faint of heart.” Dean muttered darkly.

 Castiel chuckled under his breath before they both fell silent again.

 A girl walked by arm-in-arm with her girlfriend, both laughing loudly at something. A boy a few stalls down whooped as he won a stuffed crocodile. The crowd continued to buzz, friends yelling at each other across the path as parents scolded children for wandering off.

 It was oddly peaceful, sitting here, painting Castiel’s face. It was nice, Dean thought as he switched brushes again. A comfortable silence.

 “What are you painting?” Castiel asked quietly, eyes closed.

 Dean grinned lightly at the hesitancy in the other boy’s voice. “Cas, I am painting a giant Hello Kitty design.” He said, keeping his voice low and calm. “Aaaallll over your face. You have a pretty little pink bow here.” He tapped the handle of the brush against Cas’ temple, “A nice little yellow nose here,” tapped against the tip of Cas’ nose, “And whiskers.” He traced the handle over Cas’ cheeks teasingly.

 “Dean,” Cas’ voice was amused, if anything. His eyes stayed shut, seemingly unconcerned. “You haven’t painted my nose or cheeks, and you were using like five different shades of blue.”

 Dean chuckled under his breath. “Yeah, okay, Columbo, you’re right.” He sat back for a moment to take in the whole design critically. “You know that Willy Wonka movie with that blueberry chick?”

 Cas’ eyes flew open and he shifted suddenly, about to stand. “You did not- “

 Dean quickly reached out and tugged him back down, laughing. “No, no, Cas, of course I didn’t.”

 “You better not have.” He muttered as he sat again. “I have to walk around with this all night, you know.”

 Dean nodded, pretending solemnity, dotting a few more places. “I know, Gabe told me.”

 “Assbutt.” Castiel muttered.

 The bell rang out from the game booth again. Dean carefully sat down his brush and raised his eyebrows. “Assbutt?”

 Castiel looked over at the churro truck down the way, avoiding Dean’s eye line. “Yes.” His cheeks looked suspiciously pink. “And are you calling me Cas now?”

 Dean suppressed a smile and shook his head. Dork. “Yes.” He reached out and turned Cas’ face back to him, doing a final sweep of the design. “Lookin’ good.” It really did look good; at least Dean thought so. It had helped that no one else had wanted their face painted. He hadn’t had to rush to get to another customer.

 “Are you done?” Cas didn’t seem to mind the hand that was still resting against his cheek, but Dean put it down anyway. No need to freak out the guy.

 Dean hummed an affirmative before grabbing his hand mirror and holding it against his chest. “You ready to see it?”

 Castiel looked unsure, but nodded anyway.

 Dean felt a warm glow fill him at the guy’s trust, and couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. The game booth bell started ringing again, this time flashing lights, too. Someone had just won big. Dean raised the mirror to Castiel’s height. “Ta-da!”

 Castiel looked awestruck. A few moments passed, silence from both teens as someone at a game booth yelled something about a palm tree.  “… how did you do this?” He whispered, reverently trailing his fingers across the lines.

 Dean suddenly felt bashful and dropped his arm, shrugging awkwardly. “I just painted it, dude.” He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure. “So you like it?”

 Castiel gently pried the mirror from Dean’s hand and held it up to his face, turning left and right to see the entire piece. “Oh my gosh. It’s amazing! I love this!” He beamed at Dean, who couldn’t help but smile back in the face of that gummy smile.

 Castiel continued to examine himself in the mirror, admiring the beautifully complicated network of blue lighting emanating from his right temple, arcing across his face to the other side. Dean had layered different shades of blues and whites, making each branch look incredibly 3D and lifelike, and even added some stormy clouds across his hairline. He couldn’t stop smiling at it; the artwork was so stunning.

 Dean leaned back against his chair, quietly satisfied that Castiel liked the final product. “Soo…” He drawled, “I guess this means you’ll take risks more often, huh?”

 Castiel lowered the mirror and beamed at him again, replying, “If it ends anything like this, I will become the most reckless person in Lawrence.”

 Dean rolled his eyes and took back his mirror, putting it back on the table. “Slow down there, Evil Kenevil, you can work your way up. Nothing dangerous, you got me? I kind of like your weird, dorky ass.”

 Cas rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling. “I feel like I should be insulted, but I think that was a compliment, so thanks.”

 “Yeah, no problem.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck again. “So, look, uh…”

 Castiel waited patiently, fingers absently reaching up to brush against the paint again. It probably itched, Dean thought.

 He blew out a hard breath before deciding to just get it over with. “I know we didn’t talk all that much, but you seem like a really cool guy.” And you’re unbelievably adorable, Dean added silently. “I haven’t taken my break yet and, if you’re not in too much of a rush to get back to your brother, I’d like to see if we can’t hang out some more. Maybe.” He glanced up. “Like get dinner or something.”

 Castiel tilted his head to the side, reminding Dean of when they got Bones as a puppy. He couldn’t help chuckling again at the cute motion. “Would it be a dinner-date or just a dinner?”

 “Well,” Dean tapped his fingers against the table, staring at a yellow splotch on his ring finger. “That’s up to you, I guess.” He glanced up, “I wouldn’t mind it being a date, but if you’re not comfortable with that, we can just get food as friends. No pressure.” It would be a little disappointing, sure, but he definitely wouldn’t mind being friends with Castiel.

 Castiel ran his hand through his hair, a few curls falling onto his forehead. “I would like for it to be a date, as well.” He smiled shyly.

 Dean stood up, brushing his jeans off. “Awesome.” He smiled and stepped forward, gently brushing the curls back off Cas’ head. “Careful with that for a minute,” he warned quietly, “paint might not be totally dry yet.”

 Castiel hummed acknowledgement, and Dean could see the slight blush at their closeness, without a brush in between them. They both smiled softly at the other.

 “C’mon.” Dean took a step towards the main thoroughfare, sticking his hand back to Cas and wiggling his fingers in invitation. “We won’t find gourmet steaks, but Garth’s deep-fried turkey legs are pretty great, if that’s okay with you?”

 “Sounds good to me.” Cas sent Dean a quick smile as he took the painter's hand.

 “Will Gabe be worried if we aren’t here when he finally comes back?” Dean asked, beginning to find his way through the throng. He accidentally bumped into a woman, both parties muttering a quick apology.

 “Probably.” Cas stepped closer, grip tightening on Dean’s hand. Dean smiled privately at the action. “But he always is telling me to be more impulsive, so, if anything, he’ll be proud.”

 “He wouldn’t leave here without you, would he?”

 Castiel was silent for a few paces, “You have a car, right?”

 Dean threw back his head and laughed, squeezing Cas’ hand and stopping in front of Garth’s truck. He had a feeling he was going to have a very good night.

#My writing #fanfiction #fanfic #Destiel #DEANCAS #meet cute #supernatural #carnival #face paiting #first date #whelvenwings

[spnbaby-67]

Her Surprise Chapter 2

Summary: What happens when you go to a local Starbucks after you check into your hotel, and Jensen and Jared catch you doing a little dance? 

A/N: Hi ya’ll thank you so much for loving this story, it’s actually my third fiction after Craving You and Mistaken Identity. Don’t forget to read those, currently in progress. I was going to wait till next week to post this chapter, but since I had issues with my tumblr page not letting me post Craving You and others issues I thought I’d give you guys a treat, So hope you love it. Thank you Gaynor @secretlyfurrydragon for your help as always, Au Jensen is Single, No hate to Danneel I love her just the same, Also please don’t post this on any other sites, ask me first, thank you bunches, and here we go!!!! 

Warnings; None maybe Language, Slight freak out, Jensen’s green eyes, Jared’s amazing looks. 

Pairing: Jensen and Reader, 

Catch Up Here

From what I saw on Pinterest, yes I’m a Pinterest nerd and a web head, Vancouver is a beautiful place. Now seeing it in person, I can say it definitely is. We got here about 3 o’clock there time and the sun was still shining, it was a bit chilly. I really didn’t care much and I wasn’t going to let that stop me,  because I wanted to see what we can do before we left and  before Ari had to go home next week. We have been living together as best friends and roommates for awhile, this was the first time we were able to take a trip together. So that there, is going to be awesome.  

Ari and I met three years ago at work, we are both nurses and work at the local hospital in Texas. She kept her personal status a secret for awhile, which I don’t blame her I would have to. She doesn’t have to work, but she loves it. Me on the other hand, I have to work every shift I can to get by.

My parents both passed away, which left me with all their bills plus mine. I had placed an ad for a roommate on the hospital’s rent and buy board we have, three hours later after I posted it she came to me telling me she’ll take the room.

We been best friends ever since. She loves Supernatural just as much as I do, Jared Padalecki is her fave. I love Jared don’t get me wrong, I do. But those beautiful soft candy green eyes of Jensen’s just melts my heart. I’ve been following his career since Days of our lives, I literally cried when he left the show. Course I stopped watching it after that. I was miserable till I found him again on Dark Angel, but even that was short and sweet.

Everyone calls me crazy for liking him, but screw them. They don’t know the great things both Jared and Jensen had done for there fans over the years, including me. That though is a story for next time. Jensen makes me happy and with me being a big girl, depression is a real thing.

Walking from the hotel to the nearest Starbuck’s, it had gotten colder. I’m glad I packed a shawl.  It’s a tradition that every time we go out we hit the nearest Starbucks first, I loved their vanilla bean frappachino, but with it being kind of cool right now, hot chocolate with marshmallows will do.

The shop itself was nice, cosy and warm as we walked in. I had to chuckle because one of the songs on the radio was ‘Heat Of The Moment’ by Asia. I looked at Ari with a grin, we knew then that it was a sign this will be the best weekend ever. There was a bit of a line, but it’s ok we didn’t have a time crunch that needed our immediate attention. So, we waited.

“So, what’s on the schedule for tomorrow?” I asked her as she was looking over the convention schedule she had printed prior to leaving Texas.

“Um, first thing we get breakfast because the doors don’t open till around 10:30 ish. I figured we can order room service while we are getting dressed, that way we can be on time for the show,” as we moved up a bit.

I looked over her shoulder at the schedule to, “Ok, who's first?”

“Looks like Louden Swain will open, big plus there. I love Rob. Um first up on the panels though is Osric.”

“Oh, he’s cute. A little young for me, but he’s cute,” I only had my heart set on Jensen so everyone else was just ok.

“Calm down, you won’t see him till Sunday. Unless he comes for the SNS tomorrow night.”

My goal is to hear Jensen sing live in front of me. Yeah, you can listen to him on YouTube, but nothing beats hearing him in person. We continued talking about the schedule and what we had to do, we didn't hear the bell on the door go as some people came in behind us talking about the convention.

Carry On My Wayword son came on right after Asia, I smiled at Ari and we did a little dance that we always do when we hear this song. Something that we made up, but it went with the beat of the song. Something told me to turn around, and when I did, I almost fainted. It was Jensen and Jared standing behind us clapping at our dance. I think I acted like an idiot I don’t remember as it was a blur, my head felt dizzy though seeing those beautiful green eyes staring back at me. I couldn’t move I was frozen, but somehow I tapped Ari on the shoulder.

She turned to look at me with a questionable look on her face, “What?” she asked me. I move my head to point to the direction where they were standing, she followed my finger I had in front of my chest so they couldn’t see me pointing. What happened next, surprised even me. She placed her hand on my shoulder, as she had to grab me before she fell.

“ARI!” I shouted seeing her eyes closed freaked me out.

I reached down to get her, but Jared noticed her almost fall. He reached out on reflex and caught her before she fell to the floor. “Are you ok?” he asked, as he looked at me then at Ari.

He helped her stand up, she was shaking like a leaf. Much more than I was, “I'm just um, shit Mr Padalecki, I'm a huge fan.” Her voice was shaky and I wanted to laugh, but I knew she’d do the same for my reaction when and if I looked at Jensen who was standing really close to me.

“Please it's Jared, this is Jensen.” He held his hand out for Ari and I to shake it, Jensen followed suit.

“I'm Ari and this is Y/N my best friend. She’s the Dean to my Sam,” I wanted to really laugh now, she was nervous as hell and saying things I couldn’t believe. She bit her lip, then placed her hand on her mouth, course me I’m standing there blushing as Jensen notices me.

“Please to meet you Ari, and Y/N, are you both here for the convention?” Jared asked us.

The barista asked us a couple of times what we were having, every time Jared would distract Ari. I thought it was cute, Jensen was standing ever so close to me that I swore a couple of times our hands slightly touched. It's true what they say when you have that connection, electricity sparks through my whole system. I was literally scared to move. “Um, yes we are it's our first convention,” I told them with what voice I had left.  

“Awesome,” Jensen said in that Dean voice that drove me nuts. I love his Dean voice. “So, you staying until Monday then?” He knew some people only stayed the four days which is the norm.

“Actually,” Ari finally had our drinks ordered correctly this time, Jared ordered his and Jensen’s. “Y/N here is staying a week and a half, it's her vacation time. I on the other hand sadly have to leave next Thursday. I only got a week off.”

We moved to pay our drinks, but the lady at the register said they were already paid for. I looked at Ari and she said she didn’t, then we both looked at Jared and Jensen.

“Really?” I asked such a Dean move.

Jensen winked at me, “Welcome to Vancouver.”

God, I think I just died.

They joined us, after we got our drinks and went to sit down in some empty chairs by the window. Jensen sat really close to me, and Jared across from Ari but close to Jensen.

“So if your name's Y/N, what’s with the letter J on your necklace?” Jensen asked as he held the chair for me to sit.

Ari laughed, I blushed harder. I looked over at Ari to tell her to shut up. “It’s um, she got me something for my birthday tomorrow and this was it.” I opened the little heart revealing his photo, I swallowed hard as now I really felt like a stalker.

He smiled, looks at Jared, “I told you she was a Dean girl,” with a satisfied smirk on his face.

We laughed that off, then I decided I better drink my hot chocolate. I sighed letting my head falling back a bit after taking my first sip. “Oh my god that’s so good.” They looked at me kind of funny. “What?” I asked looking at them.

Jensen did that nose thing when Dean pulls before he reaches over to a pretty girl, then he did just that, “You um, got marshmallow on your upper lip.” He gently took his finger and wiped it away.

Thank god he wasn’t holding my hand or anything, because he would have felt the heat creeping through my body. I think my body temp just rose at least to 110 degrees inside. HOLY HELL. I turned to smile at him and thanked him, but not before I look at Ari with a holy crap look. Yup, I just died. Jensen Freaking Ackles touched my lip, I can die happy now.

We talked for about thirty minutes more before Jensen had gotten a call on his cellphone, he excused himself to take it leaving Jared with us. I dunno why, but when he left it took a bit of my heart with him. I mean it’s a freak of chance we get to meet with them, as many fans don’t get the opportunity to. But it just felt weird, you know?

Jensen came back over to us, he placed his hand on my right shoulder and looks down at me, “I am so sorry sweetheart, but Cliff our security guard will be here in just a few minutes. We got work to do.”

For some reason hearing him say “we got work to do” just made my day, what can I say I’m a huge Jensen/Dean fan. “It’s ok,” I tell him as I stood up to meet his eyes. “It was really great to meet you.”

He smiled at me, then leaned in for a hug he took his cellphone out of his pocket, then asked for mine. we took a selfie. I guess he was thinking we were expecting that. “You didn’t have to do that you know, we are not like that.”

He holds my hand a moment, “It’s ok, I wanted to. Happy birthday y/n,” he paused a second. “See you around, yeah?”

I watched him stop and sign something for a fan before he left, “Yes, thank you. See you later.” Oh I so hope so.

He and Jared left us in a blubbering mess shortly after that, I fell back into my seat rehashing everything. This man is so super sweet it’s unbelievable. I open my eyes to see Ari smiling at me. “What? Not you to?”

“Someone is in love,” she sang stressing the love part.

I rolled my eyes at her, “Don’t you dare start, he was just being sweet. Just as Jared was being sweet to you, I’m sure he has a girlfriend who would pound my head into the wall if she saw us flirting just now. I’m so not looking forward to that moment.”

“It’s ok Y/N, I was just teasing. But I bet you will have sweet dreams tonight huh?” she had a mischievous look on her face.

I threw the napkin I had in my hand at her, as I sat there with a dreamy look on my face. So far, all is perfect with the world. I mean how could it not be? Note to self, relax and enjoy the weekend ahead, it’s going to be awesome.

Tags are open:

@secretlyfurrydragon @nanie5 @theshygirlao3 @invisibledevour @andreiaafaria @skylarraker @muchamusedaboutnothing @racheladams77 @anotherwaywardsister @jensen-gal @akshi8278 @percussiongirl2017 @helpmeyouassbutt @sarahsassafras13 @waterlilyshaista @pariskitty18 @bombaluv96 @quackerstheduck66 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @smoothdogsgirl

#Jensen Ackles #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles x reader #reader insert #Jared Padalecki #starbuck's #Vancouver Convention #goofing off #Ofc Aeryn #Her surprise

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[rotzaprachim]

Kanej Modern Occult Detective AU

For the amazing Isabelle @pivoinesaturnienne who requested ‘Inej and Kaz in a modern au pls 👏🏼☺️’ 

Based roughly on the episode and a half I have seen of Lucifer 

1. Kazuya Brekker was born in the 1600′s, the son of a Japanese woman and a Dutch merchant. His mother saw something chaotic in his dark eyes and named him for the peace she hoped he’d acquire instead. Both of his parents died when he was young, and he was primarily raised by his half brother Jordie. They’re living in Amsterdam and hustling at the trade exchange (though Kaz has figured out how to route large chunks of VOC guilden into his personal accounts, but damn those bastards deserve it) when the city is smashed with an epidemic. He dies, and then comes back to life as . ..  something a little more than human. 

2. Kaz basically spends the next 400 years as a literal demon- flitting between parallel realms (he’s always felt like a member of two worlds anyway), accumulating ridiculous amounts of cash, and holding a hell of a lot of grudges. For some theological mumbo-jumbo reasons I don’t feel like figuring out, Kaz ends up stranded in modern day New York City, without the benefit of his usual demonic powers. 

3. Inej Ghafa runs a private investigation firm in Queens. She takes almost any clients who need her, and resultantly barely makes enough to keep the lights on. (There’s one person who drags her home from the office and makes sure she eats a meal that’s not ramen, stale bagels, or instant coffee, and that’s her room mate Nina.) 

She’s Tamil Catholic and actively practicing. 

She’s also still super close to her family, and treks out to New Jersey on Sundays to go to Mass and lunch with them. 

On the whole she really likes her job. It can be difficult and tiring, and it’s impossible to be an investigator and not constantly, furiously angry with the institutionalised inequalities of the Justice System, but usually she feels like she’s doing something that helps others. Usually. 

It’s on a grey Thursday morning she meets Kaz. She doesn’t really know what the GQ model, or whatever the hell he is, is doing in her office, but she’s not exactly going to complain, if only for the pure aesthetic appreciation. Still, she feels acutely aware of the knife she has hidden in her desk drawer.

He stands sort of awkwardly at the door until she gestures for him to sit down.

“I can’t pay a temp right now,” she says evenly, even though this guy looks more one of the Wall Street up-and-comings whose corporation deals her eviction notice than the kind of people who usually visit her office, with the Tamil-language signs out front and cigarrettes-and-old-coffee smell that’s been stuck to the place since before she got here. 

He leans across the table. He has very dark eyes and God probably drew the lines of his face with a ruler. Inej doesn’t know much about men’s fashion but the textured, grey wool coat he’s wearing looks like it cost more than several months rent for her. He has a raspy-but-smooth voice (like, a whiskey commercial level raspy-but-smooth voice) in an accent she can’t quite place.

“Luckily for you, my services are free.” 

(Later, watching the glittering, flickering gold map of New York- “New Amsterdam,” as it always will be to him, although maybe he just likes having “dam” in the name- he can’t stop thinking about her. Why did he choose her struggling PI office as the base of his mandatory redemption? He doesn’t know. All he knows is that he feels like he’s been pulled underwater without knowing it and he can no longer see the surface.) 

4. He may have lost most of his powers but he does manage to tap into his accounts, which are demonstrative of four hundred years of investing, schmoozing, and outright stealing. He’s always been better at aquiring money than spending it- that always felt like some unbreachable loss of control- so he decides to finally dish some out. Her rent is paid off for the next six months and replaces the tea kettle that barely works with a fancy Italian model. one day when they need to go on a bit of a road trip upstate to find a cheating husband, he greets her outside the office with a to go cup of that really fancy hot chocolate (house made marshmallows and all) and a ‘60′s Chevrolet Corvette. 

(He keeps the car. it’s a nice car, timeless and simultaneously restrained and vulgar. His style.) 

Inej, for the most part, is super worried that he’s connected to some kind of organised crime. It’s Nina who chills her out a bit, using the talent she’s always had for knowing when people are telling the truth or not. (It’s in their heartbeats.) And she knows that Kaz in general is shady AF, but she also knows he won’t bring any harm to Inej. 

5. TOGETHER!!! THEY! SOLVE! CRIMES!!! AND BRING JUSTICE TO NEW YORK! Like honestly Dream Team material right here. They solve a mixture of regular and occult cases. Inej is sharp, focused, and hyperaware of details, not to mention extremely driven in her mission. Kaz is in general utterly ruthless, but at least now it’s directed to a good cause. 

There’s an incident where they have to infiltrate a shady party to find evidence against Jan Van Eyck, a particularly corrupt developer. This of course involves wearing formalwear and going undercover as Dr. and Mr. Selvaraj (Of course!). And it involves Inej wearing a silver-white gown with embroidered flowers and a pearl headband with her long, straight hair down around her bare shoulders. 

(Needless to say, she turns a lot of heads.)

Afterwards, with the ballroom up in flames and Van Eyck in handcuffs, Kaz and Inej stand outside the convention centre. Inej is swapping into a pair of flats, heels dangling from one hand.

“So.” She says.

“So.” He repeats. 

“My room mate and I are working our way through trying every takeout option with a delivery charge of less than a dollar in the vicinity of our apartment.” 

“Umm hmmm.” 

Kaz tried to focus on the holding laundromat sign across the street instead of Inej, how luminous she was in the reflections of the flashing red-and-blue squad car lights. 

“And we’re halfway through the new season of Peaky Blinders. And we won’t rewind to the beginning.” 

“Uh huh.” It took a lot of mental concentration for him to read out “M-O-E’S P-A-Y A-N-D W-A-S-H” instead of focusing on her, the flutter of her eyelashes and the way she was biting her lip right now, like she usually did when considering a decision. 

“So, you could, you know, join us.” 

“Join you?” 

“Me and Nina. Watching Peaky Blinders. Probably going to order in adobo and lechon, because Nina’s finishing a double shift and she says she needs deep fried pork to recuperate.” It was going out on a limb, and Inej felt winded after putting the option in the open, like she’d run a race in her ballgown. 

“Me? Go with . .. you? To your apartment?” 

Goddamn it. Kaz knew from the way his face was burning up and the way she was smiling that his face blushing something mighty. 

“Yeah, genius. Come back with me.” 

He offered his arm like a true gentleman as they exited the scene of (not really their) crime.

#aus #asks #fills #thank you so much lj! #kanej #kaz #inej #kaz brekker #Inej ghafa #my lord these two really are my TOP OTP how has I written so little for them???? #also: I didn't know if Japanese-Dutch people from this period were historically accerate and THEY WERE #look up Cornelia van #Nijenroode #vaguely Lucifer

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[ryqoshay]

How to Handle a Nico: How to Care for a Nico

Primary Pairing: NicoMaki Words: ~1.9k Rating: K Time Frame: Maki is in med school. Nico is working as an idol producer. They are living together as a couple, but not married yet. Story Arc: Stand Alone

List of all HtHaN scenes

Author’s Note: Had to do some shallow dive Google searches for this one, as I knew it is common place for people in Japan to go to work/school/etc even if fairly sick. Forgive me if this is not a 100% accurate portrayal.

Warm.

Really warm. By the gods it was warm. Hard to breathe warm.

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than her diaphragm convulsed violently, expelling a horrendous bout of coughs up her throat. She curled into herself as pain radiated from her throat, through her nasal cavity and throughout her head.

“Nico-chan?” A concerned voice asked from nearby.

Nico rolled onto her back and slowly opened her eyes. “Uhhnnn…?” was all that came out of her mouth as a response.

Cool.

A damp cloth was placed on her forehead providing immediate comfort and relief. Nico couldn’t help but sigh.

“No wonder you were so tired last night.”

That was true. Nico had been feeling fairly lethargic yesterday, but she had attributed it to the busy schedule and long hours at work.

“Maki-chan… what time is it…?”

“Shhh…” A finger touched gently to Nico’s lips. “Don’t worry about it. I already called Hanayo and told her you wouldn’t be coming in today.”

“But…”

“I figured something was up when you slept through your alarm and you didn’t move when I woke up and got out of bed.”

“Breakfast… I need to make…”

“It’s coming.”

“You’re not… c…” Nico was cut off by another coughing fit.

“No, I’m not cooking.” Maki laughed lightly and placed a comforting hand on her girlfriend’s arm.

“Good… I don’t want the house to… burn down when I can barely move…”

Maki raised a hand as though to deliver a chop to her girlfriend’s head. Nico stuck out her tongue. Maki sighed and put her hand back on Nico’s arm.

“Well, if you’re feeling good enough to tease, maybe you can just make your own food.”

Nico opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was a cough strong enough to make the towel slide off her forehead.

“Anyway, we do have friends who work in food service.” Maki continued, replacing the cloth. “Nozomi is on her way now with breakfast and Honoka will be here later with lunch.”

“Oh… alright…”

“And Hanayo said she and Rin would pick up something for dinner and drop it off after work.”

Work… Class… “What about your…?”

“I already called Papa and explained the situation.” Maki explained, taking the cap off a bottle from the nightstand. “What with sharing a bed with you, kissing you and… uhm…” she cleared her throat “other stuff, I’ve been fairly exposed to whatever you got. I may not be showing symptoms, but there is little doubt that I’m carrying it, so it would be best to not bring it with me to the hospital.”

“But…”

“Plus, you coughing in my face when I took your temperature a moment ago definitely didn’t help.” She held out a cup full of cough syrup.

“Sorry…” Nico gratefully accepted the medication, despite wrinkling her nose at the smell.

“But I can study here while you sleep.” The redhead assured. “I’ll be fine.” The doorbell sounded. “Ah, that must be Nozomi. I’ll bring something up to you in a little bit.”

“A… Alright…”

Something smelled wonderful.

Nico opened her eyes just in time to see Maki set a tray on the nightstand. Steam rose from a bowl of soup and Nico’s mouth watered, suddenly realizing she was hungry.

“Let’s take your temp before you eat.” Maki said, sitting on the edge of the bed and revealing a thermometer. “It was pretty high earlier.” She handed the device to the older girl. “If worse comes to worse, I can have Mama or Papa write you a prescription.”

Nico nodded and put the thermometer in her mouth. After a moment, the device beeped so Maki reached forward to retrieve it.

“That’s still really high.” The doctor in training commented, checking the readout.  “How are you feeling?”

“Horrible… Tired…” Nico replied, glancing at the soup. “But a little hungry.”

“That’s good.” Maki nodded. “Well, that last part, at least. Your body needs nutrients to fight its battle. And fluids.”

“You know I used to take care of three kids who got sick a lot, right?” Nico chuckled, which lead to more coughing. “I know how to deal with the flu.”

“Well, yeah, but… uhm…” The redhead blushed a little.

“I’m teasing, Maki-chan.” The raven-haired girl lifted the spoon to her lips. “Mmmm… that’s good…” she sighed, relishing the soothing warmth in her throat. “Almost as good as mine.”

Maki rolled her eyes but didn’t dispute the claim. After the other girl had finished her meal, she took the empty bowl and set it back on the tray.

“I’m going to get back to my studies.” Maki said, standing up with the tray. “Let me know if you need anything; more food or water or whatever. I can help you change and take a bath later if you want as well.”

Part of Nico wanted to point out that she wasn’t an invalid, even if she was sicker than she had been in a long time. But the rest of her couldn’t deny enjoying the attention her girlfriend was so willing to give to her. She smiled and gave into the latter side. “Thank you, Maki-chan.” She said after a moment.

“Sleep well, Nico-chan.” Maki replied over her shoulder before exiting the room.

What was that noise?

Nico opened her eyes. That sounded like a vacuum cleaner, no, two vacuum cleaners. Did they own two vacuums? Voices. Plural. Nico didn’t believe she recognized any of them. Who the heck was here? Did Maki hire a cleaning service?

Nico reached over to her phone. It felt strange to message someone in the same house, but at the same time, she didn’t want to strain her voice by trying to yell over the noise of the vacuums.

NicoNii: Did you hire cleaners?

NishikinoMaki: Yes

NishikinoMaki: Sorry if they woke you up

NicoNii: That’s not the problem

NishikinoMaki: ?

NicoNii: We’ll talk once they’ve left

NishikinoMaki: Alright…?

“It’s a waste of money.” Nico insisted.

“Is it?” Maki raised an eyebrow. “I need to study. You need to rest. The house needs to be cleaned.”

“Like I said, I can cl…” The raven-haired girl was cut off by another coughing fit.

“Not like that.” The redhead stated flatly. “You need to rest. Doctor’s orders.”

“You’re not a doctor.” Nico rasped.

“I’ll have Papa or Mama come here to give you a personal diagnosis if you want.” Maki crossed her arms. “But I can already tell you what they would say.”

“Oh?”

“They would say that I need to study and you’re sick. But the house needs to be cleaned, so hire cleaners.”

“You sure you’re not just impressing your own opinions on them?”

“Who do you think I got my opinions from?”

Nico was about to reply when she realized Maki was right. Her own views of preferring to do one’s own housework instead of hiring help had come from her mother.

“Nico-chan.” Maki’s tone softened as she took a seat on the bed. “I know you would rather clean on your own, and I wish I had more time to help you with that. But for now, just think of it like cooking. As much as you like cooking for us, and as much as I adore your cooking, we still go out from time to time. Today Nozomi made our breakfast and Honoka made our lunch, and I didn’t hear any complaints from you.” Maki slid her arm around her girlfriend. “The cleaners are the same thing, something the current situation called for.”

“I suppose…” Nico sighed. “I just don’t want it to become a bad habit or some sort of crutch we lean on. We’re adults living together in a house. We should be able to take care of it.”

“Adults with busy adult schedules.” Maki pointed out. “Most days I’m happy knowing I get to share a bed with you because that’s the only time I get to see you. And that’s assuming you aren’t on tour. If we only get a few hours a week of free time, I’d rather spend them with you than cleaning. And if hiring cleaners from time to time is the way to ensure I get my time with you, then it’s a bargain.”

Nico pursed her lips, finding it harder and harder to counter Maki’s points. Certainly she took pride in maintaining a clean home, but there was no denying that she wanted to spend as much time with Maki as their schedules would allow.

“Tell you what,” Maki continued, “when you’re feeling better, I will try to set aside some time to help you with your next cleaning session, alright?”

“But you don’t really want to.”

“Of course, I don’t really want to. There’s so many things I’d rather do with you than clean…”

“I’ll bet.” Nico smirked.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“But if cleaning is what you want to do, then I’ll do it with you.”

“Alright.”

“So, are you good for now, or do you want to try to squeeze in a bath before Rin and Hanayo arrive with dinner? I’ll wash your back.”

“We can wait until after dinner, I’m good for now.” Nico yawned, slipped out of Maki’s arms and lay down. “But, I’d be better if you were with me.” There was no teasing in her tone, just a tired smile.

“I… uhm… still have to study…” Maki couldn’t help feeling guilty giving that excuse, especially after having just made a big deal about wanting to spend more time with Nico.

“Yeah, I kno…” Nico coughed again. “And I don’t wanna get you sick anyway.”

“Well, at this point, if I’m going to get sick, I’m going to get sick.” Maki admitted.

“It’s alright, Maki-chan, I was just kidding.” Nico dismissed. “Go on and get back to studying.”

“A little break is fine.” Maki crawled into position and slipped under the sheet. “Just until Hanayo and Rin get here.” She reached out to pull Nico to her.

Nico smiled before snuggling into her girlfriend and releasing a content sigh. “Thank you, Maki-chan.” She murmured a moment.

“Mmm?”

“Thank you for caring for me.”

Maki chuckled. “You don’t have to thank me for that. This much is normal for couples, right?”

“Yeah, but still, I want to be sure you know that it means a lot to me.”

“You’re welcome.” Maki nuzzled the top of Nico’s head. “You know, I’m kind of happy…”

“You’re happy I’m sick?”

“No, no…” Maki shook her head. “It’s just that the last time or two you were this sick, Nozomi and Eli took care of almost everything.”

“You got medications for me.” Nico pointed out. “That helped a lot.”

“I know, but… I… I don’t know, it’s different now.” Maki fumbled for an explanation. “I mean I know Nozomi and the others brought food and stuff, but today I got to be the one to really tend to you directly. I… I guess I… just kind of liked that…”

“Was Maki-chan jealous the last time?”

“T-that’s not what I meant!” The redhead protested. “I just…”

“I know, Maki-chan, I was just teasing.” The raven-haired girl resisted laughing so as to avoid it causing her to cough more. “But like you said, it’s normal for couples. We live together, so of course you’re going to be the one who is here for me the most.”

“And that’s what I like.”

“Yeah, I like it as well.” Nico sighed and snuggled more. “I love that you’re the one who is here to care for me.”

“I love you, Nico-chan.”

“…ve you… oo… Maki-…n” Nico murmured, already falling back asleep.

Author’s Notes Continued: If it isn’t already painfully obvious by this point, I really like cuddly, fluffy, happy NicoMaki. Cuddly, fluffy, happy NicoMaki is best NicoMaki. And “I love you.” I love having them say “I love you” to each other. ♡ ＼(￣▽￣)／ ♡

I must admit I learned a bit in my Googling for this scene. Apparently, while it is common for those in Japan to go to work with the cold, influenza warrants staying home. Of course this meant I needed to learn the difference between the two; something I’ve never really bothered to research as I seldom get sick.

Draft One of this scene had Nico getting sick over the course of a few days before culminating in the need to stay home, but apparently that’s a cold. The flu apparently sets in quicker, so I had to change that. Then I found an article claiming that cough syrup was nearly non-existent in Japan, but immediately after, I found articles talking about the syrup form SS Bron, a popular cold and flu medication.

I’m still not entirely certain about prescriptions or antibiotics as most searches continued to bring up OTC products. Here in the States, a doctor is allowed to prescribe some medications without so much as seeing the patient in person, whether or not this holds true in Japan, I know not. However, in the School Idol Diary where Nico gets sick, Maki offers, rather offhandedly, to have her father give them meds, so if nothing else, I am taking some artistic liberties there.

On the topic of SID, that chapter is part of what Maki was referencing when she said that Nozomi and Eli primarily took care of Nico “the last time or two.” I am more or less taking that scene into HtHaN canon; more the part of Nico getting sick and less the part about it being how the rest of µ’s learns where she lives as I am going with the anime canon there. As for the “or two” part, I’m sure Nico got sick at least once in the years she lived with Nozomi, but whether or not I write that scene is another matter altogether. Someday... maybe...

Lastly, I am currently placing this scene after How Not to Celebrate a Nico in the timeline to coincide with Maki being currently banned from the kitchen. I may or may not move to after Homecoming if I need it to be after Nico starts touring again, for whatever reason.

#NicoMaki #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #How to Handle a Nico #Love Live #fanfic

[winsister91]

Clean Up On Aisle Four

Summary: Hungover from a raunchy night, reader gets to work to be greeted by a familiar face as their new trainee.

Characters: Dean x Reader

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, sex in a public place, unprotected sex, doggy style, language...throw fluff in there for good luck.

Word Count: 2487

My Masterlist!

~ Dean and forever tags are open! ~

A/N: Just a naughty little smut one-shot before I go off on a break for the weekend. Genuinely gonna miss you all! Gonna have to download the app so I can stalk yas :P Thankyou again for the love on my series Three Wrongs Make A Right, I’m genuinely attempting plot on that one so it hasn’t got fully down and dirty yet. This random one shot here was a random idea that occurred to me at work the other day, so had to vomit it out before my little break.

Tag list from @spnfanficpond I deleted a bunch that didn’t seem to be working, and now noticed that some aren’t working from these few too? I don’t understand if I’m doing something wrong or not. Feel free to lemme know if you’d like to be added/removed. Let’s go!

Shit shit shit shit SHIT. You run into work late, hair a mess, make-up not applied and your eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep/hangover.

It's unlike you to go out the night before work, but your bestie had persuaded you, only for them to drink too much and ditch on you half way through the evening's proceedings.

You'd already found company by that point however. The dreamy, olive eyed hulk variety of company. His face comes into your mind and your legs quiver in memory of what happened in that dreamboat's motel room. He was called Dean, and boy that was a night you will never forget. Shame you had to dash off at 2AM to get home because you had to be ready for work in the morning. You would have happily stayed for a round two or three otherwise.

Now here you are, back in work, gotta get caffeined up and focused for the new temp trainee coming that afternoon.

You work in one of those huge department stores that tries to sell everything. It does food, furniture, clothes, electronics, gardening...stuff and... well its easier to list what the place doesn't sell really.

It's three hours before your trainee arrives, so your manager, annoyed at your lack of punctuality today, demotes you to the tills all morning. It's not that you dislike people, but trying to be all smiles and customer service with a raging headache and running on three hours sleep is enough to break anyone's morale.

“Thankyou!” you beam at a couple at your register, cheek muscles hurting from the false smiles, all you desire at this moment in time is a good strong coffee.

“Hey Y/N!” your manager yells from one of the nearby aisles, “Your trainee is due is ten minutes, close your till off and get ready to meet them.”

You close your eyes with relief that you get to escape for a moment. You can make yourself a quick coffee in the staff canteen whilst you wait. Double win.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Sipping at the piping hot nectar you sit in wait, running through everything you'll have to cover with the noob in your head. Grab them some uniform, quick store tour, warehouse procedures, a new bedroom display has got to be made up too. Maybe you can claim that to do with them. The door to the canteen opens whilst you go in for another sip of your  cup o' joe. You look up and see a familiar set of green eyes combined with a cocky smirk.

“Dean!!” you yelp in shock, choking on your beverage.

“Why hello there sweetheart,” he replies smoothly as he heads towards you, “Well today just got a lot better.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” you hush, feeling your cheeks burning.

“I was told to come and meet my training mentor,” he shrugs, biting his bottom lip, “I gotta say, I'm just as shocked as you are. At least we can skip the awkward small talk introductions.”

You stifle a laugh, rubbing your face in your hands in total bewilderment. How is this even possible? Dean was right awell, today did just get a hell of a lot better.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

You cant help but giggle seeing him emerge after you'd given him his uniform. He didn't exactly suit the gaudy blue t-shirt with yellow sleeves. The navy work trousers did cling around his ass very satisfyingly however. Dean spots you admiring the booty, raising an eyebrow and laughing.

“It's not like you need to imagine what's under there,” he winks.

“Shhhh!” you give him a playful elbow to the arm, “If management find out we know each other, they'll totally put someone on else to train you.”

“Well we simply just can't have that can we?”

“Right! So just...behave yourself already!”

Dean did not behave himself. Throughout your tour of the store and warehouse he continually messed about and made innuendos that left you a in a near constant state of blush.

“The hell is this supposed to be then?” He laughs, picking up a rather phallic looking piece the store had on sale in the bathroom section.

“Christ Dean I dunno,” you hold your head in your hand, fighting back the laughter trying to burst out of you, “Some kind of ornament or something I guess?”

“This shape though? In the bathroom? Yeah they knew what they were doing with this thing,” Dean puts the 'ornament' back down pulling a stupid face.

You move on, narrowing your eyes at him, but unable to hide the smirk on your face. Next was the bedroom section.

“What that's then?” Dean inquires, pointing to the corner where a huge curtain hides and divides off a chunk of the room.

“That's one of the bedroom displays but it needs changing over to the new stock. So the bed sheets need changing, the small furniture swapping out etcetera,” you explain, “That's our first job actually.”

“And they hide it?” Dean raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, its so the customer's see only the full display, apparently seeing it built up and swapped around can destroy the illusion.”

“So...nobody is likely to go snooping in while its being changed?”

“Well...its cordoned off, so generally not.”

A glint twinkles in the Winchester's eyes which makes you slightly worried but guiltily intrigued.

You head over to the curtain, both slipping in behind it.

“We need to get rid of all this stuff first, like the bedding and what not...” you state, grabbing a corner of the duvet intending to pull it back. Dean throws himself onto the bed, stretching out with his arms and folding them behind his head.

“Dean!” you giggle at him.

“Man I'm beat,” he closes his eyes, adjusting himself to get comfy.

“We haven't done anything yet!” you squeak, throwing one of the pillows at him.

“Yet,” he gives you a wink, “What actually happens to all this stuff once it's swapped to the new?”

“I dunno,” you shrug, “All the furniture gets sent back to the depot...the bedding bagged up and sent with it.”

“It's not checked or anything?” he gets up and walks over to you, bringing his hands to your waist and breathing down your neck.

“Dean,” you mumble, shuddering as his breathing gives you goosebumps, “I don't know what you're thinking but-”

“You know exactly what I'm thinking,” he gives a few light pecks down your shoulder towards your collarbone, “Are we likely to be left alone?”

“Um...I guess?” you try to protest but Dean is difficult to resist, “But...this is my job Dean, and yours.”

“This aint my job for long,” he mumbles, “Just stay quiet if your worried.”

He looks directly into your eyes and you see his are full of want and hunger. Fuck it, I hate this job anyway, you think.

Your lips lock onto his. Like last night his kisses are strong and passionate. He bites at your bottom lip and his hands grab your ass tightly. You gasp as he hoists you up onto his hips, his tongue asking for entry into your mouth which you accept instantly. You hands run up his back, pulling the awful shop's shirt up and off him, revealing that amazing body. Its toned and firm, a few scars here and there but they do nothing to ruin the spectacle of perfection displayed.

Dean lays you down onto the bed, one of his hands big enough to hold both your wrists down above your head. His free hands runs up the front of your shirt, lifting it up so he can access your breasts. He pulls a cup of your bra down and kisses at your already hard bud. It sends tingles straight down you, and you bite your lips together in an attempt to muffle your whine of approval. His tongue now circles it, starting slow but gradually building. You can feel the sensitivity there growing, almost becoming unbearable. You clench your eyes, biting your lips so tightly to stop any noise escaping you. Your back involuntarily arches and you just about manage to convert your moan into a deep exhale, but you can feel your throat shaking. He switches to your other breast, and your arms desperately want to come down, they want to touch him or at very least dig into the sheets, but Dean holds them there strongly. You opt for bringing you legs up instead and wrapping them around his waist. You manage to pull him forward, driving that bulge between his legs into your groin, and your eyes roll back in memory of what that bulge contains.

“You're keen,” Dean whispers, with an eager smirk.

“After last night who wouldn't be?”  you smirk back.

He releases your hands as he unbuttons his trousers, so you work on unbuttoning your own. Your eyes dart around the curtain surrounding you, hoping no one out there has cottoned on to what's going on in here. It's all making you very nervous and out of your comfort zone, but the out right freaking...naughtiness of it all makes you so damn hot at the same time.

You see Dean's hard cock in his hands and he rubs lightly away at the tip, breathing heavily at you.

“Lose the shirt,” he orders.

You automatically do as he says, tossing it aside and laying back down as Dean lowers himself onto you. You're kissing again, your hands in his hair pulling lightly while he teases at your folds.

“Fuck,” you gasp as quietly as you can, pulling your knees up so you can give Dean entry.

“Nuh uh,” he whispers, “We did missionary last night.”

Before you can even respond, Dean flips you over so you're now bent over on your knees. A slight panic suddenly takes you.

“Wait Dean I'm not into ana-” you hush quickly.

“Neither am I don't worry,” he interrupts, “Done it this way before?”

You shake your head, so self conscious in this position and nervous to be trying new stuff in this scenario.

“Relax,” he coos, “Just give it a try, I've heard crazy reviews. You don't like it we'll switch back I promise.”

“O-okay,” you stutter, not a hundred percent convinced, but despite only meeting him last night, you have a weird sensation of trust towards Dean.

Not being able to see what's going on is throwing you the most at the moment, you worry that he'll do something that takes you by surprise and makes you cry out. It's like Dean can read your mind, he does everything he can to give you a pre-warning. You feel his fingers gently caressing your folds again, and in this position they seem to be so much more sensitive, sending a tingle all the way down your legs to your knees. You throw your head back, trying to replace moaning with deep breathing.

He replaces his fingers with his cock, and slowly eases in. Your mouth opens but you somehow manage to hold back the moan, clenching your eyes tightly. As Dean slowly begins to build momentum, your clench the headboard getting used to the sensation of your g-spot being hit at this new angle. It feels so much more intense, your coil beginning to quickly tighten already. Dean's breathing get heavier and you hear him mumble numerous curse words in lust.

“Play with your clit,” he whispers to you, his cock thrusting deeper as he leans into your ear. Once again you find yourself obeying, one hand still clutching on the headboard for balance and the other making small playful circles at that most sensitive point.

A very slight whimper escapes from you as you feel your body start to come alive. Dean is clutching onto your ass so tightly, it causes a new pleasurable pain you haven't experienced before.

“God Y/N,” he grunts, reaching his quickest pace, “I c-can feel you getting tighter. F-fuck.”

Hearing him say these things makes you so much hotter. Your g-spot now getting hit rapidly, your circling finger gaining speed. It's overwhelming.

“D-dean,” you gasp as quietly as you can.

Another grunt comes from him as he makes a final deep lunge into you, and you feel his cock throbbing as it releases his warmth, coating all inside you.

You white out momentarily, your knees caving in as the spring inside you explodes. You force your head into the pillow, hoping it will muffle the strained moans you try so hard to hold back.

You both drop onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling and trying to regain your breathe.

“That was...” you start, wondering if that really did just happen.

“Amazing,” Dean finishes, chuckling slightly as he grabs your hand.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

You both hastily get dressed and manage to sneak off to the bathrooms for a quick clean up. As you come out you run into your manager, a look of disgust on their face.

“You and the newbie seen that bedroom section!?” he cries.

“No!” you answer quickly, attempting to sound convincing and not sure if you're succeeding, “We were just finishing a quick break and heading over there actually.”

“It's a mess!” the manager exclaims, “Looks like some customers have been fooling around in it or something.”

“Now that's just sick,” comes Dean's voice from behind you. He must have just come out of the bathroom too.

“Ah, so you're the trainee then?” the manager looks down his nose at the Winchester.

“Not any more actually,” Dean shrugs, “I'm quitting.”

You look at him in shock, the manager just scoffs and walks away mumbling something about time wasters.

“Your quitting!?” you shriek, “After all...that!?”

“I'm sorry sweetheart,” Dean looks genuinely apologetic as he brushes a stray hair from your cheek, “This was only a temp thing because me and my brother were having some...money issues... but he just text me to say it's sorted so we're actually gonna be leaving town tomorrow.”

“Oh...” you feel a little deflated. He did tell you last night he was only in town a short while so this was to be expected really. It's annoying but...there is one small opportunity left, “So you'll be around tonight then?”

“Uh...” Dean raises an eyebrow and tilts his head at you, “Yeah I will.”

“Meet me at 8?” you smile cheekily, “Same bar?”

Dean laughs, scratching his head, “Yeah I'd like that.”

You give him a wink and stride back to work, a new found spring in your step. Yeah this wasn't ever going to become a full blown relationship, but it sure is a lot of fun.

Best day at work, ever.

Tags! @aprofoundbondwithdean @manawhaat @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @bkwrm523 @nichelle-my-belle @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @notnaturalanahi @salvachester @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @revwinchester @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @deals-with-demons @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @bennyyh @deanwinchesterxreader @melbelle45 @4401Inc @sis-tafics @mrswhozeewhatsis

#spn fanfic #dean x reader #dean smut #dean fluff #dean public sex