because apparently we have a dressing room and there is beer already in it

Playboy, bad boy Kim Taehyung

Originally posted by namjoonie00

Series genre: Smut, angst, fluff

Description: Kim Taehyung, one of the nastiest human beings you have ever been associated with. You despite even breathing the same air as him yet he still somehow finds a place in your life.

note: Park Jimin will also play a major role in this series. Also, this chapter will have some Harry Potter references that are not absolutely necessary to the story itself. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

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anonymous asked:

new plan for season 13: instead of seeing Dean at 40 still sleeping with random young bargirls and waitresses, drinking beer and eating burgers.. we see Dean in the ER after a minor heart attack.. then, bookending every following episode, him dutifully taking his daily antiretroviral medications in front of the bathroom mirror and grumpily attending AA meetings.

I see you and raise you: Dean wakes up in the hospital from a coma with machines beeping around him, Sam folded in a chair asleep, and Cas, whom he has to blink in surprise at, trying to negotiate his memory with the man dressed in regular clothing reading a book like he has nothing else to do.

And Dean scrambles to try and remember what the hell happened to land him in the hospital, but can’t, and straining to swallow, makes a raspy call to Castiel, who is by his side in an instant and a shout to Sam to wake up, one hand slamming the Nurse button as he does, because “Dean! You’re awake!”

“What happened?”

His answer is delayed by Sam, and Dean has a horrible moment of watching his brother start to cry because Dean’s okay, and Sam can’t even make words, basically ugly crying into Dean’s shoulder as he’s folded over the bed to hug his brother and babble apologies that don’t make any sense, “-but I got him and I’m sorry it took so long and oh God Dean, we thought you were going to die and Cas was dead and you weren’t breathing and oh God you’re awake.”

Nurses and doctors pour in and Dean has no clearer answer than he did before on what is even going on, but he’s poked and prodded and tested and examined, and listened to medical babble while Sam wipes at his face, both he and Cas nodding diligently to the doctors as they explain potential symptoms, like memory loss, the need for intense and on going physical rehabilitation?? to get Dean back to normal strength, that he’s going to sleep a lot in order to regain his strength, the slow introduction to foods??? and the expected recovery time for something like this being over the course of months.

Dean can feel himself flagging, already feeling worn down and tired, wondering if the nurses put something in his IV while he was distracted with all the rest. He barely manages to gain their attention, before drifting back off to sleep.

When he wakes, the light in the room has changed, but the occupants has the new addition of Bobby, who has to wipe his eyes and gruffly tells Dean it’s about damn time he woke up and stopped keeping the world waiting, and Dean is so flummoxed he can’t he form words to try and make sense of what the hell???

What happened?

“Lucifer,” Sam explains. “He beat you into a coma before I could stop him.”

“He- what? But we- Sammy, we locked him up.”

“Right, both he and Michael are locked in the Cage now.”

“Michael got out, too?”

They all exchange looks of confusion, Castiel slowly shaking his head.

“No, Dean. Remember? Michael was never in the Cage, he needed to take you as vessel and settled for your brother Adam?”

Dean gapes, looking at all their faces, and shaking his head, “Are you talking about Stull Cemetery?” Nods from all. “Dude, that was, like, what? Eight years ago? I remember that,” he says with an eye roll. “What happened with him getting out the second- or apparently third time?”

They all look at each other in confusion, and creeping exhaustion makes Dean impatient, jabbing a finger at them as he talks. “Civil war in Heaven against Raphael, the Leviathan getting loose from Purgatory- in which Bobby should be dead, so explain how you’re not- then me and Cas spent a damn year in Purgatory, then Naomi brainwashing and controlling Cas for months on end.. what happened after that? Oh, fucking Metatron forcing all the angels to fall and Cas becoming human after he stole his grace for the spell. Kevin and later Charlie fucking dying. Mark of freaking Cain, me dying and becoming a demon, then finding a cure, which released Amara, God’s freaking sister, and then all the bullshit with the British Men of Letters and Lucifer getting out and his Nephilim baby with Kelly– and why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Dean…” Sam looks worriedly at Cas, who shrugs, and then back, shaking his head, and Dean has a moment to wonder at how much younger he looks. He’d thought it was due to grief earlier, but it’s startling now, his hair cut shorter than he currently likes it. “None of that happened. I don’t- I mean, I’m not sure how you thought– Lucifer put you in the hospital in Stull Cemetary, before I was able to regain control and force him out and into the portal. And the Chuck-” he hesitates, eye darting back and forth as he tries to explain, “this won’t make much sense, but Chuck is actually God, Dean. In disguise.”

Dean stares like he grew antlers. “I am aware, thank you. Made us pancakes and nearly died helping us fight Amara, then both of them took off together.”

“He must have been able to hear our conversations,” Cas tells Sam, “and his subconscious tried to fold them into whatever he was dreaming.” He looks at Dean. “Dean, Chuck showed up at the cemetery, brought Bobby and I back, but your injuries he wouldn’t interfere with since comas fall under free will and the decisions of the mind, but you were immediately brought here via Life Flight, and you’ve been here since, Dean.”

His brows knit together, confusion and incredulous warring on his features. “No. That’s… Cas, that was years ago.”

Sam shakes his head. “No, Dean. It was six months ago.” He gestures to the angel. “After Chuck gave Cas the option to become human or not, we both had to get jobs and an apartment so we could stay near you. We’ve been living here since you were admitted.”

Dean looks at Cas, startled. “You’re human? Why?” Because that doesn’t make sense, and Dean is sort of completely and utterly horrified to see the angel punished in such a way as to cast him out like that when he’d only done the right thing every time.

A flush spreads across Cas’ cheek, blue eyes sliding off to the side. “Because… my family is here.”

And that’s just- Dean can’t, and he says as much, shaking his head. “I- this… this is too much. I- that doesn’t make sense. I can’t, guys, I can’t.”

Sam nods, all earnestness and puppy dog eyes, and God almighty, it makes his kid brother look even younger. “No, Dean, I-I get it. we’re sorry for dumping all this on you. It’s a lot to take in.”

“I just… I need a minute,” he insists, and his brain hurts with the head on collision that is memories versus information, and any attempt to reconcile the two, and is it possible this is Djinn dream? Dammit, did he get infected again? But no, that wouldn’t explain this either.

He thinks he might be sick.

“Call the nurse and just give me a minute.“

They diligently leave, and the nurse- fucking Charlie Bradbury in the damn flesh- helps him sit up so he can dry heave into a ugly pink bucket until his stomach hurts and he’s got strain marks rising on his throat as she rubs his back, murmuring softly, and then hugging him once he done and starts to cry, to break down in sobs, because Djinn dream or whatever the hell this is, she’s alive and here and the ache that had settled in her absence releases because he has missed her so very much, and all of this is way too much, more than he can stand, and he’s just very tired from a life too hard for one person to live through.

But hours and days pass, and it seems no less real, no clues or giveaways this is some sort of supernatural event, and he knows he not dead and in Heaven, because that’s not how heavens work.

Sam and Cas are civilians, Cas having taken Bobby’s last name in order to be given a family history outside of Jimmy Novak, who’d long since gone to heaven. More over, they’re civilians with clearly no intention of getting back into hunting. Sam explaining that since they saved the world, he was washing his hands of it. They’d done what they’d set out to do: avenged Mom and corrected their mistakes, and the world shouldn’t- couldn’t demand more of them than that.

The world is saved. Dean still has his family, with Cas- though he’d never let himself hope- staying as part of that, still staying too close to Dean’s side for what is socially acceptable, but after years of feeling like he was drifting away, it’s a painful relief that leaves Dean wrapping him in a hug that lingers too long, whispering, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Of course, Dean,” he answers, just as reluctant to let go.

And Dean thinks he might die, because coma nightmares aside, even with the painful and strenuous physical therapy- Benny and Kevin are his physical therapists, like what the hell- Dean has everything, the world on a platter, and he’s so very happy. Years worth of nightmares don’t even matter anymore.

He’s happy.

You’re welcome.

Andre Burakovsky #1 - Meet the Team

Originally posted by temipanarin

A/N- hiya! sorry its been a lot longer wait between imagines but I’m trying my best. I am currently only able to do some writing while watching hockey games or on my commute home from school so its not the best writing conditions… Anyways…

for the anon request: Love ur writing! Can you write a Andre burakovsky one where you meet his team and you’re kinda shy? Thanks! Lots of love<3

(thanks for the love! these little messages make my day)


You were not going to freak out. You were determined to keep your cool. They were just people, probably feeling some kind of awkwardness like you were feeling. Except they were more mature, adult hockey players who spend half of their lives talking to media and people they don’t know. So yeah, maybe you were freaking out.

Look, you love your boyfriend, Andre Burakovsky, with your whole heart. Even though you have been dating for just under six months you know that he’s it for you. It’s just that you are naturally a very shy and introverted person. Sometimes you experience mild social anxiety and large crowds with loud people really don’t make you feel good. In fact, you met Andre at a house party that your best friend had dragged you to. Instead of spending the night downstairs playing drinking games with the rest of the party-goers, Andre found you sitting in the living room, sipping your solo cup of beer and cuddling with the house cat. He immediately sat down next to you and started stroking the cat as well. After sitting there in silence for over five minutes he finally looked up at you, smiled warmly, and said, “He’s cute, but I still like dogs better.” you giggled and 2 hours later you were still sitting in that couch with a purring cat half in both of your laps when your friend came stumbling up the stairs meaning that you had to take her home.

Since then Andre has been the best thing in your life. But now your breathing is getting all out of whack and you are trying to reason with your stress-riddled brain to no avail. After six months you still haven’t met Burky’s team and tonight is the night. The Caps were playing at home and, like usual you were going to be in your usual seat in front of the glass. The exception however comes after the game where instead of texting him a congrats and meeting him at his apartment after the game, you were going to go down to the locker room and meet him and all his friends. So yeah, you were freaking out.

You steeled yourself and gave yourself a pep talk driving into the arena but once you stepped inside and saw some of the familiar faces of the arena staff, you relaxed right away. By the time you were sitting down in your seat the alarm bells going off in your head about meeting the team were significantly quieter. When the Caps took the ice for warm up Andre did his customary two laps around before circling to you, blowing a kiss, then jumping against the boards in a fake shoulder bump that always made you giggle and you focused on watching the boys warm up. Shortly after that, the game started and you were whisked away to your happy-place which is being totally immersed in the game you love so much.


The final horn sounded and you got up with the rest of the Verizon Center to give your team a resounding cheer for their 5-2 victory. Andre had scored twice and you were grinning ear to ear despite the growing panic in your chest. You decided that you were just going to have to suck it up and you really didn’t want let Andre down because you knew how much this meant to him. You flashed your pass at the man who Andre had told you about and turned left down the hallways that you were instructed to follow and sure enough you found yourself leaning against the wall facing two very large doors with the huge logo painted on. You nervously fiddled through your phone and got a text from Burky much sooner than you were expecting.

Andre: You here? I’ll try to be out asap so you don’t have to meet the boys all by yourself

You smiled at his consideration and texted him back a single thumbs up before continuing to fiddle around on your phone. 15 minutes later a very dishevelled and slightly wet Andre comes bursting through the doors and sweeps you off your feet. You giggled loudly as he spun you around and peppered kisses all over your face and neck.

“I’m so happy you’re here.” he beamed at you when he set you down.

“I noticed.” you giggled, “great game.”

Andre continued to smile at you like an idiot, “the boys are so excited to meet you. They say that it’s because that means that I will finally shut up about how awesome you are, but secretly it’s because they’ve seen you at games and really want to meet you.”

You gulped slightly and Andre immediately recognized your shyness creeping back in so he wrapped you up in a hug again. “I promise this dinner is super low key and all the boys are really nice.” you exhaled shakily and nuzzled into Andre’s chest for support.

“Aw, baby Burky and his girlfriend are the cutest things I’ve ever seen.” you turned around and spotted Holtby, Ovi, and Backstrom all clean and changed from their showers emerge from the dressing room and make their way over to you with warm smiles on their face.

“You must be (Y/N).” Niklas grinned at you, “happy to finally meet you.”

“We hearing so much from Burky, it feels like we already met.” Ovi said with a matching expression.

“Oh shut up, I do not gush about my girlfriend every second of every day.” Andre protested

“Ahh puppy love.” Ovi pretended to sigh wistfully

Niklas bent down to whisper to you as Andre started to pick a bit of a fight with Alex making you laugh nervously, “Don’t worry. He loves you very much. I’ll try to contain Ovi at dinner. He doesn’t understand volume control.” he winked at you helping untangle the mess of knots in your stomach before grabbing Ovi by the shoulders and pushing him towards the exit with Braden trailing behind.

“We’ll see you at dinner!” he called behind him before disappearing down the hall


“No really! Every part of that story is true!” Andre assured the group of Caps laughing at the dinner table.

“You forgot the best part though,” you corrected, “ in Andre’s haste to put his number in my phone before my friend started puking everywhere, he mistyped and I thought he had given me a wrong number. It took two weeks of apparently him moping around before my friend managed to connect the dots and gave us the right numbers. Ever since then it’s been history.” you smiled at Andre who kissed you on the forehead which made you blush a startling shade of red.

Now that dinner has been served and you have spent the past hour and a half with Andre and almost half of his team you feel significantly better. You had a brief episode at the beginning of dinner when you sat down where you felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb and was wishing that a manhole would open up from under you and suck you sway from all these people. But then Tom Wilson sat down on your other side and proceeded to tell you embarassing stories of Andre that you had never heard before. Before you knew it you were giggling while all of the boys were trading locker room stories about everyone and then you took a risk and started to tell stories of ANdre from home. All the boys turned to you and were listening almost enraptured as you recounted the tales of Andre failing as an adult with your signature sarcastic humour. Within seconds you had the team hollering with laughter and you felt all of your nerves completely dissipate. When you finished your story as the meal had arrived you looked over at Andre who had a conflicted look of happiness that you were blending with his best friends and embarrassed that all of his not-so-finest moments were being shared.

You leaned back into Burky’s shoulder as the conversation moved to something about Ovi and Russia that you had stopped paying attention to awhile ago, “I love you.” you murmured up at him.

“I love you too.” he smiled, “but maybe next time we just stay in by ourselves?”

“Oh yeah? What caused this sudden change of heart” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“I discovered that I don’t like to share”


Up next: Auston Matthews!

@leonygunawan said: HI ITS ME AGAIN!! i want to request a zach dempsey imagine where y/n are very close friends to jeff and at the night of the very very tragic accident y/n were with zach when clay called you THANK YOU SO MUCH LOVE YOU💖💖

Author’s Note: Warning! Character death ahead.

Originally posted by void-obriens


“Zach,” you warn, narrowing your eyes and planting your hands on your hips as you stand in front of the TV. “Don’t give me those puppy eyes. We are not watching Transformers again. We’ve seen it three times this week.”

“But we watched Titanic all last month,” he pouts. 

“It’s a classic!”

“A classic that you constantly feel asleep to ten minutes in and then managed to miraculously wake up right when they hit the iceberg.”

You scoff. “‘Cause that’s when the good stuff starts happening!”

Keep reading

I Think I Wanna Marry You...(Part V)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Time is running out as Y/N and Dean try and maneuver their way around this new conflict whilst keeping their cover…Easy, right?

Warnings: Swearing, mild angst; Castiel is clueless

Word count: 5k (yikes)

Part 1, 

Part 2 Part 3 ,Part 4

A/N:  Way overdue, but here it is! surprise surprise: our favorite angel finally makes an appearance.

PS. Big shoutout to all my Boston-born pals. No hate, this is all purely for fictional purposes and I’m sure you guys and your town rule!




Apologies if I forgot to tag you, let me know in my inbox and I’ll be sure to in the next part.                      


Dean’s footsteps are thunderous thuds as he stalks down the hallway, fists bawled and jaw clenched. He makes a turn for the right, heads to the elevator that takes him to the ground floor and makes his way out onto the terrace where the party is going.

His eyes scan the perimeter in search of Sam; he’d left him in the company of Emma and Y/N’s cousin Brendon, talking about politics and nerd-things (Dean’s conclusion: yawn). Turning to the right, he spots Marilyn and Y/N’s father. The noise around him swarms his mind, clouding it, only catalyzing the agitation stewing in him. Dean scowls and then heads to an empty table by a dropping willow tree.

His footsteps crunch against the grass as he moves to take seat, and finally resting his head in his hands. He lets his eyes shut. Exhales. Sighs.


How did he get here? All he can is being sent up to get her, taking her things along with him, and then in the blink of an eyes, here he is. A labored breath leaves Dean and he sits up, leaning back in his seat. Instead, he decides, he might as well allows himself to observe the crowd for now. To recollect. Lamenting on this entire situation is out of the question—if he gives it too much attention, things could get wild in his head. Could swell larger than they need to be, and so he allows his gaze to skim the crowd, when he catches the eye of a familiar face glaring at him.

And then the elder Winchester’s jaw tenses.


Rick standing in the centre of the crowd, mingling with the guests; Rick, despite the conversation he’s engulfed in, staring him down like a hawk.

Rick coming towards him.

Mind hazy, Dean has to do a double take, squinting to make sure he’s right. And apparently he is—the dark-haired man is sauntering across the garden, a beer in hand, sporting a composed smile.

Dean waits anxiously before he approaches, halting a few feet from the table. He raises his bottle. “Pleasant evening, isn’t it? It’s a surprise to see someone spending it alone.”

“Maybe that’s what makes it so ‘pleasant’” He sneers the word as though it’s venomous, like the mere syllables cause his tongue to burn. “…because I’m alone.”

“Not gonna lie: that’s sad.”

Dean shrugs. He doesn’t know why, but apparently Rick stupidly takes this as an acquiesce for him to join him, because he then drags a seat out from the table and sits himself down opposite the elder Winchester.

Rick’s smile softens. “Dean, right?”


“Yeah, Y/N’s boyfriend.” Rick nods in understanding as he offers his hand. “We met—rick.”

“I know.”

An awkward silence befalls as Rick’s expression falters, and he shyly tucks his hand back at his side, clearing his throat. “Right.” He mumbles. “So—how are you liking everything in Boston? Y/N told me you’ve never really been well acquainted with these parts. She said you’ve only been here—once, twice?”

Dean nods. He’s not really in the mood for company; and doesn’t want them to, but for odd reason the words end up leaving him anyway.  “Twice. Business trip that lasted three days and then we were outta here.”

“Never thought of coming back.” Rick asks with a quirked brow, and the elder Winchester shakes his head. “What about Y/N? No interest in seeing where she came from?”

“Why do you care?”

“I…don’t. I’m…just..making conversation.”

“Well then maybe you should stop.”

Rick’s brows shoot up in surprise.

Dean is steady and as stoic as a soldier, his expression giving away no sign of emotion. Green eyes are dead set on the hazel ones across the table, and in the air thick with a newfound tension dangles another silence

After a moment, Rick clears his throat. “So, uhm, Dean,” He continues, trying to sidestep the awkwardness. “Y/N said that you two are partners. You work together in the squad?”

“Yup.” This is getting beyond mind-numbingly boring; Dean really doesn’t like this guy. Like, really doesn’t like him. And he knows it’s untheical, and he knows he’s being petty (likes that’s new), but he doesn’t care enough to do anything about it because just because he’s somebody else for these two weeks doesn’t mean he needs to abandon his actual traits.

”That would explain how we’re partners.” He rolls his eyes, averting his gaze to the far left when all fo a sudden he notices a movement.

Then the elder Winchester’s senses heighten; drowning all peripheral sounds out, he focuses on the shift, the patter of feet, a shadow cast upon the damp ground. A large male figure. Getting closer. Closer.

“Right, I forgot.” Rick laughs casually, throwing back some beer. Wiping the corner of his mouth with his cuff, he then returns his focus to Dean who tries to look less like a hunter. “So you’re a cadet, too?”

“Uhm….” His eyes skitter. Th strange ris getting closer, his walk rigid. “Yeah…Cadet. I’ve been on the force for almost four years now.”

“That’s a lot.”



When he turns his head, much to his relief, it’s Sam. The younger Winchester walks up to the table, looks down at Dean, his long brown hair swooping around his face like a curtain.

“You alright?”

Befuddled momentarily, Dean nods.“Yeah…”

Sam eyes him dubiously, then looks at Rick. He smiles at the younger Winchester. Turning back to his brother, Sam announces, “Cas is here.”


“He just arrived. He’s, uhm, waiting in the lobby. Says he wants to talk to you there.”

“Oh..right….” Cluelessly, the elder Winchester then casts Rick a cursory look. He inhales and stands. “Gotta go, buddy. Talk later.”

“Oh, uh—“And then they leave.

The dark-haired man, befuddled, says something, watching as the pair begin to move, but Dean is already so out of earshot that he doesn’t bother. He follows Sam through the crowd and out of the garden, into the garish lighting of the lobby.

Sat at one of the black leather couches, Cas looks around the room a few times, shifty-eyed, until his gaze rests on the elder Winchester and his panic dissolves. He pushes himself up, eyes focused on Dean.

“There you are.”

“Cas, where have you been? I left you like six voicemails.”

“I’ve been busy. Heaven’s duties, tracking Crowley, i…”The angel exhales, averting his gaze. “I’m sorry. I would have gotten here sooner.” He explains, then turns to Sam. “Where’s Y/N?”

“What are you wearing?” Dean’s eyes slide over his friend’s attire: brown khakis, a salmon button up with an orange spotted tie, and sandals. Morbid. Unethical. If Dean had a blow-torch with him, he’d set it on max and go to town.

Horrified eyes lift to Cas’ apologetic face. “Sam told me to dress casual.” He explains.

“Yeah, casual, not train wreck.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“I could say the same about that tie—or the whole ensemble.” With a slight repulsed face, Dean dismisses it with a shake of the head and wave of a hand. They’re on a tight schedule.

“Come on, I think I have something you can wear. People are starting to stare.” He then ushers Cas along with him up to their bedroom, until the realization strikes him like a bolt of lightning. The elder Winchester, cursing internally, then turns to Sam.

“You have to go in there.”


“I can’t. Y/N and I, we…” He sighs and averts his gaze, desperate to sequester his embarrassment from the public eye. “We got into a fight. She wanted to me to leave, I can’t go back in there.”

“A fight about what?”

“Does it matter?” Dean snaps, and Sam’s eyes lift in surprise at his tone. “She doesn’t want me in the room. You’re going to have to get Cas’ clothes. We’ll be downstairs.”

“I could go get them.”Castiel offers.

The elder hunter shakes his head. The music from downstairs is floating all the way up here, drowning his focus. “Not looking like that. Y/N’s sad as it is, that whole outfit will just bring her down.”

“What did you do?” Sam asks.


The two speak simultaneously, Cas’ tone admonishing and Sam sounding like he’s tired of this story before he’s even heard it and Dean doesn’t have time for this. Instead of staying here to explain himself, with an indignant huff he pivots and stalks back down the hall, before suddenly bumping into someone.

He feels the smack right in his chest and winces at the contact, stepping aside as something clatters to the floor. The other person curses, and before he can even open his eyes Dean knows who it is.

“What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like?”

Y/N bends to pick up the sheets of paper on the floor. Meanwhile, Sam and Cas hurry over, they’re expressions unreadable once his gaze meet with hers.

Clutching the papers to her chest, Y/N’s face breaks out into a surprised, slightly confused smile.

“Cas…You made it!”

The angel can’t help it; his expression cracks, too, as he goes in for a brief hug. “Of course I did.” He says. The moment is cut short by Dean scoffing.

“Yeah, wait a few days and she’ll get tired fo you.” He remarks.

“You have a bone to pick, Winchester?”

Dean shrugs and looks away, pouting like a child. “Maybe…”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough.” Sam intervenes, because Y/N looks like she’s about to knock a man’s teeth out. He looks to her and his brother, arm still keeping her a safe distance from the elder Winchester. “Man, you two are acting like kids.”

“How else do you want me to act, Sam?! Y/N’s being ridiculous about this whole thing..”

“Excuse you…”

“Oh, so I’m supposed to sleep out in the hall now just because I said something that hurt your feelings?”

Y/N bites her lip to keep from spitting venom, her arms like tentacles wrapped tightly around the papers as she glares bitterly. Dean, with his eyes wild and jaw clenched once more, challenges her gaze, but it only takes a minute before he realizes something: she’s changed out of her old clothes, now sporting one of her dresses from back home reserved for the dinners.

The elder Winchester’s expression softens as his eyes slide over her frame. They rest on her face pink with anger. “You changed.”

“No shit.” Y/N spits, brow still creased, steam still puffing from her ears. Her nails at this point are digging into the papers. “I was just downstairs. I thought about what you said and realized that if I didn’t show, then they’d suspect something was up. I couldn’t risk blowing our cover.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You think I didn’t try to? It’s not my fault you were off somewhere being an ass.”

“Hey, stop it.” Sam chastises as he shoots Y/N a glare. She glances at him and then the floor, abashed.

“Well,” Cas begins, speaking up for the first time in eons. “…none of that matters now. At least Y/N managed to keep your cover. For tonight.” He glances between the two of them, emphasizing his words. “But from now on you two can’t go around acting like you’re anything less than partners. It could put this entire mission at risk.”

“Mission…”Dean scoffs. “…this is all just a big joke. I have no idea why even agreed.”

“Neither do I, jackass. I should have asked Sam.” Y/N, tears brimming in her eyes, shakes her head then shoves the papers into Sam’s chest.

“Here’s the new agenda. There’s been a change of plans. The binder says it all.” She says, before squeezing through the wall of the three men and rushing to her room, Dean’s eyes following her.

When she slams the door, the walls tremble.


The next day is a disaster. Between runs for cake samples, trips to the florists and fittings, Y/N is forced into the presence of Dean and company—Sam and Cas, trying their best to keep the two from fighting in front of the family. On the brightside, so far so good. They’ve barely uttered any profanities to the other. They’ve barely spoken overall. A few words here and there, the occasional peck on the cheek (barf) for the sake of reputation, but other than that they haven’t spoken.

Mainly because Y/N doesn’t want to. Because after the previous night, she wants nothing more than to avoid Dean at all costs, and it’s been hard. Impossible, almost. Without the other in sight, one of them is always hounded by the family, which makes staying mad at her sweetheart more tedious than needed.

It’s Thursday morning when they’re out on the two running some more errands. Being forced to hold hands with him as they stroll down the boulevard makes her skin seethe like a vampire in the sun. She’s angry—how can she not be?

“Easy there, anaconda. Your holding my hand not your prey.”

“Bite me.” She sneers as she slips her hand from his, jiggling it to dissolve the feeling of his calloused hands.

At one point she would have done the opposite; she’d relish the feeling of Dean’s palm against hers, crave it. There were instances where the only reasons they’d be holding hands was because Y/N wanted them to, and now all of that had vanished as fast as it came.

They pass an open bakery, an Indian restaurant perfumed by the scent of curry and then make a left. Because of the wedding being moved closer, all the planning has been catalyzed. This means that there’s a ton of activities Y/N and her folks had planned to carry out within the following days that they have to get accomplished by Saturday, and so to make things move a lot faster, they’ve been separated into groups. Bridal party A: Y/N, Castiel and the Winchesters and Bridal B which includes her mom, S/P/N, Emma and Aunt Steph. Brendon and the guys, she’s been told, are handling things back at the hotel. Seating arrangements, catering.

Their assignment? Getting the ring.

The store is a quaint white structure sandwiched between an antique parlor and restaurant, bouquets of a vast variety lining the entire wall, a colorful welcome as they scuttle in. Y/N keeps her hands in her pockets, walking a safe distance away from Dean. He probably thinks she hasn’t noticed, but he’s not very discreet when he keeps sneaking glances her way.

But she ignores him.

Cas and Dean move to the front desk to speak to the employee smiling welcomingly at them while Y/N remains with Sam by the exit.

He looks over to her. With her arms crossed over her chest, she’s looking at some earrings in the display case.

“So you’re not gonna forgive him, huh?” He prompts. She shrugs. A ring with a diamond the size of a nugget glints in the daylight and she rounds the display to take a closer look.

“Nope.” Is her simple reply.

“Come on, Y/N…” Sam almost pleads. “You know that this is all gonna blow over. It always does. The two of you can never actually stay mad at each other.”

“Watch me then. He’s gonna stew this time.”

“But not forever, right?”

She looks up and he’s at her side. There’s a small, polite and almost knowing smile on his face. One she’s seen before. One she hates to see because of the truth it holds, the gospel behind it. Y/N sighs then looks away…and that’s good enough of an answer for Sam. His simper then grows into a teasing smirk and he leaves to go see what Cas and his brother are up to.

Watching him go, the young girl bites her lip, her mind gripped by the reality the younger Winchester just showed her. He’s right. It’s inevitable—she’s going to forgive Dean. No matter how much she denies it, she always does, so what’s the point of just postponing it all?

Getting it done now would be much easier, she reasons as she moves to the earrings display. So what if Dean’s ego is pampered by her surrender? So what if she has to be the one to cave—it’s not like anyone is keeping score? They’re not. They’re not petty like that…

But still.

Y/n feels reluctance tug at the strings of her heart.  When they’re done the trio walks up to her and tells her it’s time to leave. Apparently there’s been a bit of a delay.

“The ring will be ready by Saturday.” Castiel offers. “We pick it up first thing in the morning.”

“Looking at some rocks, huh, Y/N? Don’t get your hopes up.” Dean says as he takes a look. His eyes survive the vast variety, skittering from jewel to jewel. “I’m not making buying you stuff from every store we go to a habit. The scarf was just for show.”

“I didn’t—“ Y/N begins, defenses on already, but quickly stops herself.

Eyes narrowed, she clamps her lips shut and stares. He fingers a diamond pendant on the shelf. With a shake of her head, she tries to ignore his remarks, and sidesteps him, moving as fast as she can to get out of the door.

As if the day wasn’t odd enough, it’s Sam who drives them back to the hotel.

Y/N, with her back terse and nails digging into the leather seats, now knows why Dean never lets his little brother.

Because, boy, is he rocky. She doesn’t know if it’s like this all the time, but the car feels like a cruising deathtrap. They race down the road at an unholy speed. Much to her surprise, Dean says nothing. He’s quiet. Dead silent, entranced instead by the scenery zipping by in a flash.

“Damn, Sammy, cool it.”

“Oh, sorry, Y/N.”

“Don’t like it fast, huh?” Dean speaks for the first time since they got in.

Turning her attention to him, she shoots him a glare. He doesn’t notice it, though. Too busy staring out the window. Engulfed by his own thoughts. Apparently not enough to miss the chance to poke fun at her.

“Relax, Y/N…” the elder hunter continues, finally turning around to look her in the eye. Expression bored, his lips quirk up in a dead smirk. “…he’s just trying to get you there quickly. You don’t like that either?”


“Hm…Maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t pick Sam to be your squeeze for the wedding. Otherwise things in the bedroom would be real awkward, am’irite?”

“Dean!” Sam admonishes.

Y/N fights the blush flooding her face. With a glad grin, the elder Winchester glances at his brother then back at her. The satisfaction is written out in the way his lips twitch, the smugness of his expression that she chooses to ignore because if she doesn’t, then things might get ugly…

“Can you stop acting like a child?”

“Why don’t you make me?”

“Is this some type of flirtation?” Cas’ voice cuts through the noise, dripping with cluelessness and earnest curiosity. Dean laughs. So does Sam. Y/N, she only rolls her eyes and turns to the window.

“I just don’t see why we’re in a rush. I mean, we still have like—“ she glances back at the car-clock, “—two and a half hours till they need us back at the hotel. Almost three.”

“So…what? You guys wanna go do something?”

“What’s there to do, Sam? It’s Boston.”

“We could go to the museum…? I hear their exhibitions are immensely meticulous and well done. It shouldn’t take us less than—“

“No one really wants to go to the museum, Cas, but we appreciate the participation.” Clapping him on the shoulder, Dean shakes his head. His eyes shoot to her. “Y/N: where to, since you are the local?”


“Well, you did leave here your entire childhood.” Sam reasons, shooting her a glance in the rearview mirror. “You’ve gotta know some place that’s…I don’t know—fun?”

“Fun? In Boston?” She scoffs. “Please.”

“What about a movie?”

“For three hours?”

“Oh, right…uhm….” They all think in silence, and Y/N lets them.

The truth is this: she does know a fun place. She knows a ton. It’s freaking Boston. She knows the woods just out of town she’d sneak off to with her friends after school and she knows some of the best burger joints you can find. She’s got eyes all over this damn town, in all the cracks and crannies that you can find, but getting her to confess is nothing but a far-fetched plan, she thinks—until the boredom starts to weigh in on her too.

Biting her lips, she reluctantly begins. “I think i have an idea…”

The chatter then quiets as all eyes flit to her constricted face telling just how badly she doesn’t want to say it. Y/N gulps. It’s only one option on the (long) list of many…


The sky is clear by the time they get there.

A vast stretch of blue across the town, a few tufts of white clouds here and there. It’s not going to rain, apparently. Not with the air clear and warm and dancing against the apples of Y/N’s cheeks.

She stops walking for a moment, staring at the cluster before her. Trees upon trees. Thick, evergreen, covering a radius of roughly ten miles, and before it the playground where they stand. Sand. A slide with chipped blue paint and abandoned swings. Usually this place is full but taken the fact that it’s a Thursday leaves it marooned, the only presences being those of adults and teenage couples roaming around in the park.

Whipping to face them, Y/N flashes the boys a tight smile. “This is it.”

“A park?” Dean’s voice, although surprised, holds no offensive tone. He squints at the light as he takes a look around, eyes resting on the little gates of the entrance. “This is what you call fun?”

“Extremely. Look,” She walks over and taps the slide’s chipped paint. “…it even has a playground just for kiddies like you.”

“I’ll join you on the slide, Dean.” Cas supplements with a smile and Y/N chuckles.

The gates let out an aged squeak as they push through. The boulevard is a wide stretch of cobble with parks on the sides with people playing instruments, a guy in rollerblades doing tricks. She remembers coming here all the time, being one of these personalities strumming her ukulele for some extra doe

“Check it out.” Smiling, Sam points to a girl doing a full back-bend and a man laying eggs on her extended torso. They all smile and make their way over. Apparently, she’s an acrobat putting her skills to sue for the same reason Y/N did, and so they leave her with a couple of dollars and a coupon to Denny’s before moving on.

They move from person to person to food-kart when Dean’s stomach starts to rumble.

“I feel like chili-dogs.”

“When do you not feel like chili dogs, Winchester?” Y/N smiles as she hands the vender the money. “You always feel like chili dogs.”

“Is there any other genuine feeling?”

“Apparently not.” She mumbles. A few feet away Sam and Cas are buying cotton candy, when the younger Winchester turns around.

He jerks a thumb back, raising his voice. “Do you guys want some?”

“No, we’re good.” Y/N shouts back, and he gives them a thumbs up before turning back to the guy holding two fluffy blue blobs. They’re handed two large sandwiches, then wander further down the path until they’re in the opening near the pond. There are trees everywhere and a few people dotted across the grass, the pond glistening in the sunlight, and Dean’s about to sit when Y/N stops him.

“Not here.” She says.

The elder Winchester, already halfway into his seat, furrows his brow. “What?”

She only waves for him to follow and continues.

He does.

It takes them roughly eight minutes to get to an isolated spot further into the park and Y/N is smiling proudly. A large oak sprouts from the ground and they settle down beneath it.

“Ugh, if S/P/N could see me now she’d scold me sore.” She says, un-tucking the napkins around her sandwich as they sit. “This is a total no-no for someone trying to stay fit for a wedding.”

“It’s not like you’re the bride, anyway. What’s that saying, again? Always the bridesmaid never the bride?”

“Really, Dean?”

He shrugs then takes big bite out of his sandwich Some marinara dribbles down his mouth and onto his chin. These ends of the park, for all the years she’s known them, are never fully. They never have anyone but Y/N and whatever company she strings along with her, and because of this the quiet that settles between them is deafening, encompassing.

She stares out at the pond glimmering like mercury, the ducks waddling over it in tiny clusters. A fond smile creeps onto her face. She remembers. Everything. She remembers hot summers spent dipping her legs in the water and cut-off shorts that bleached from the sun. She remembers ice-cream trickling down her wrist; laughs with friends and furtive I love you’s hidden somewhere in the intimacy of this place. She remembers, because she can’t win the fight not to.

“I used to come here a ton when I was a kid.”  She says, breaking the silence.

Dean turns to her. His expression is simple, mouth still dressed with marinara sauce and brow furrowed with a newfound interest.. “Really?”

She nods “S/P/N used to bring me.. When we were like ten, she’d tell my mum we were going to the library and we’d come here instead, sneak off to this little sequestered zone to…” She shrugs. “…skip stones, listen to music. I used to feel like the coolest kid on the block just ‘cause I was hanging out with teenagers. But…when I got older we sorta stopped. She went off to college, so I inherited the safe zone. Used to sneak off here after school with my friends.

“You had friends? Wow…” Eyes wide and lips quirked subtly, his tone is evidently teasing. Y/N laughs softly. Genuinely. There’s still a hint of earnest that tells her he’s a bit surprised, but she understands; despite having lived with the boys for so long, there’s not much they know about her life before hunting.

“Yup.” She answers. “A whole pack. They were nice, too—really nice, and we had a lot of fun before I left. Here, there, all over city, the state even. But, after that, things kinda…fizzled out.” A hint of melancholy seeps into her tone as she averts her gaze to the ground, quieting for a moment. She can feel Dean’s eyes on her, prying, interested in hearing what it is she has to say. The tension between evaporates. They’re no longer foes on this park bench, not with the newfound intimacy that seems to envelope them.

It’s hard re-opening this wound right in front of someone, in front of Dean. He knows her— for all the years they’ve been partners, for all the wholeness of her herself she has given him he knows her, but telling all this comes harder than she thought it would. There’s a knot in her chest refusing to untangle, that doesn’t want her to spill all this now, but it’s about time… Sighing, she swallows and turns to him. She blinks, expression saddened.

“You know why I hate this place so much? Massachusetts, Boston?” She asks.

Dean shakes his head.

“Because I had a life here. A good life. And I left a lot behind when I left to hunt.”


She can feel the tears stinging her eyes and tries to blink them away. They won’t budge. Instead they spill over, trickling down the curve of her cheek. She doesn’t want to remember having it all, because it means recalling leaving it behind. And it hurts—God, does it hurt.

Biting her lip, she sniffles and another tear trickles down her cheek. “I hate this stupid town,…” She says Carefully. Quietly. Her voice is hoarse and is at the precipice of cracking.

“Come on, Y/N…”

“I can’t wait to leave.”

And that’s all it takes.

And she’s in his arms, head rested on his chest, face pink and wet and fingers knotted together because she can’t breathe. Her chest stutters, falling as fast as it rises. Dean, smoothing his hand over her arm, tells her to breathe, to relax.

“I can’t, Dean…” Tears trickle down her cheeks as she shakes her head. “God, I can’t wait for this wedding to be over. To get out of this place.”

“Y/N, listen to me.” He coos, somehow managing to pacify her, because she actually does. Sniffling, she tips her head back and their eyes meet. Green on y/e/c. His eyes swim with a sadness, an anguish she can’t bring herself to understand.

Gulping thickly, the elder Winchester gathers his thoughts. His courage. Watching this is more painful than imagined; just because they fought, it doesn’t mean Dean doesn’t still care for Y/N. It doesn’t mean that watching her cry doesn’t make his heart splinter, or that hearing her quiet sobs is any less painful than taking a bullet to the shoulder.

He never makes her cry. Ever. Tries not to, but apparently fails because here she is, stifling a sob.

“You had a good life here, maybe even great, but leaving to embark on something new doesn’t mean leaving that good behind—it means taking it along with you.” His eyes bore into hers. “And that’s what you did. You took a whole lot’a good from this crappy town and brought it into our lives. You changed them. And it may sound selfish, but you leaving your old life behind was the best thing that could have happened to mine.”

Y/N manages a small, sad smile. A coarse chuckle escapes her. “Softie.”

“Hey…” he admonishes but it’s only semi-genuine before a smile breaks through; his eyes crinkle, pink lips pulled back and there it is again. That glimmer.

That spark that ignites the warmth in her chest…

She looks at Dean like she’s looking at him for the first time in years—takes in the wrinkles and creases engraved into his skin, the blots freckles across his nose, the little bit of gold that glints in the green rim of his eyes and she feels her spirit soar.

“You’re right.” Averting her gaze, her words are q bit mumbled. The elder-hunter’s eyebrows quirk.

“Am I?”

Y/N nods. Stuttering a breath, she casts her eyes to meet his.“I’m sorry I was being so difficult.”

“We both were. Some more than others, but…” She rolls her eyes at his words, punching him in the shoulder softly. He only laughs.

Dean offers a small smile. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.” It’s going to take some time for the guilt to dissolve, but an apology is one step closer to that achievement. Inhaling deeply, Y/n shakes her head slowly. “And I’m sorry for saying I would have rather brought Sam with me. You’re doing a great job keeping up with my family and my crazy ass. I never should have said that.”

“It’s okay..”

“Could you stop it? it obviously isn’t. i know that. I’m sorry, Dean. I….”The sentence melts away somewhere in her throat as she feels her chest shake. Her eyes water. Glancing away, the words are barely a whisper…

“…I care about you.” Y/N admits.

Stilling, he takes a moment processing. Then, lips quirking into a subtle, knowing smile, he offers her his hand. “Truce?”

She glimpses down at it. Rough and calloused. Dean’s. An unspoken contract. She can’t help but think back to their first day, in the car. An unspoken promise between the two of them, and within a second all the hate has vanquished. All the bitterness and resentment and the arguments and the tears, and all that’s left is that glimmer in her chest.

Grabbing it firmly, she nods. “Truce.”

                                                 ~ *~*~*~*~

:D :D :D

The angst is over! I know I said that the update was due last week, but my break just finished and I only got the time to post today. Nonetheless, I hope you liked what you saw.

That being said: likes, reblogs and follows are abundantly appreciated. Relatively sure the next part will either be the last, or the semi-last, but I’ve ALSO got a little something I wrote out a while back for this story as a deleted scene of sorts ;)

Stay tuned, y’all! Much love and I hope you’re doing welll!

Helping Hands Part 1

Word Count: 2,305

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Y/N

Warnings/Notes: Cursing, because I miss it. Just a lil something that came to me and that I wanted to get out. (Requests are Open)

You sighed into the phone, “I hate doing this.” You could hear the faint breath of the other person on the phone. They’d been quiet since they heard your voice, and only replied with short curt answers, and only breathing in short little pants. Not you, your heart was racing, your legs bouncing up and down as you nervously tried to get through this phone call.

The sun was barely rising, birds chirping as they flew overhead. The day was going to be a nice one. It was the first day of spring after all. Blood was caked to your clothes, to your face, and to your hands. You couldn’t even tell which was yours anymore, or which was… “It’s just- I’ve never hunted something like this before.”

You ran hand through your hair and closed your eyes. You hated this, hated the sting of tears threatening to fall from your eyes. The pain was starting to return. No longer did you have adrenaline to subside it. You looked up at the sky, the pinks and yellows starting to blur in your vision. “And I think- fuck- I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but I think I need your help.”

Keep reading

Party embarrassment

Could you do a one-shot where the reader is an avenger but really really shy? And at one of Tony’s parties when he approaches her she becomes nervous because she likes him and she embarrasses herself, so she leaves early and stays up in her room. And later that night Tony goes to see if she’s okay and see what’s wrong and she tells him about her crush on him? Fluff and maybe some smut?(((:

“I swear to god, I can fight the bad guys but I can’t even think of walking in 7-inch heels, what the hell is wrong with me?” You murmured in a low voice as you kept your eyes glued to the floor.
It was Tony’s monthly ball he hosted at the tower, everyone was invited and you were part of that everyone. You had got the invitation just a few days earlier and it was brought the host himself. The word was out that you were not fond of parties, and in the years of avenging, you hadn’t gone to a single party so he was making you go there as an obligation as important as saving lives. You just couldn’t say no.
The small card of the invitation didn’t say anything about a dress code, but as it had the word “ball” well you thought that a dress would be more than appropriate. You kept a dress in a bag so it wouldn’t ruin due to time effects, it had been forever since you last wore one. You took the comfiest looking shoes and you had your outfit ready.
The two days previous to the party you spent hours and hours just looking at YouTube make up tutorials; you had bought one of those palettes girls used to get the perfect make up and you were a quick yet patient learner. The day before the party, you dared to try to do your make up, it took you a good hour to get it perfectly done. You appeared with a paper bag on your face and went to brag to Natasha who was truly impressed. You had just learnt the basics and you were ready to use it for these kind of moments.
The party itself was great. Music was great, people were great and you were having the time of your life. The only thing that you were missing was a good drink. The glass on your hand had some fancy drink you were not fond of. You wanted a good old beer and you were on your way of making it.
The heels were making things hard, and as you had your eyes glued to the floor you couldn’t see up. You were really near from the bar, but on your way appeared someone out of nowhere, making you spill your whole glass on your dress and the other person had also spilled a bit of their drink on you.
“For fuck’s sake, can I be that unlucky?” You growled.
“I’m sorry” A manly familiar voice dragged you out of your whining “You should’ve seen where you walk (Y/N)”
“I know Tony” You pouted, finally looking up “Is just that being pretty is quite painful and dangerous” You pointed at your shoes and your shaking legs “God, I even spilled some on your shirt” You threw your head back in “I’m more than embarrassed right now” You rolled your eyes “Excuse me, I’m gonna go change” You started to walk away but he held your arm tightly.
“You look really pretty” He said before letting you.
You blushed uncontrollably as you took off your shoes and made your way again to your dorm. Enough embarrassment for the night.
“(Y/N)?” A soft voice joined by a knock startled you. You were already in your jammies ready to call it quits for the night. You had embarrassed yourself for the hundredth time in front of Tony and you were not going to do it one last night before the night was over… Perhaps you would; the fluffy pink pajama was enough disgrace. You had your hair tied in a high bun and your make up was well placed on a wet towel in the litterbin in your bathroom “Are you awake?”
“Yeah, come in” You sighed.
His hair was already messed up and the first button of his shirt was open. His tie had disappeared from his neck and you thought that maybe it was stolen by his pick up for the night. Everyone thought Tony would go back to his old self, but apparently he had learnt a lesson. Soon you realized the tie was wrapped on his hand. He looked incredibly hot now that he wasn’t that formal; not like he didn’t loo hot all well-dressed. This was a nice change.
“I thought you’d go back to the party” He said, closing the door with his weight “I kinda missed you back there–I mean, we” He hurried to add “We all did” He stopped for a second to look at you. You were on your worst look, considering how pretty you had been just a few hours ago, you looked like a hobo now. Somehow, a smile still sneaked up his lips “You ok?”
“Yeah, I mean, after embarrassing myself in front of you and the most eccentric people in New York City, I’m totally fine” You shrugged “Are you on your way to somewhere? Cause if you are I don’t want to interrupt you” You asked after a slightly awkward silence.
“I was actually here to see you” He flashed you with a smile and finally took the daring steps to sit on your bed “I kinda wanted to tell you again that you looked really pretty today, well, you are gorgeous”
“Too bad I took it all away” You said almost apologetically “Tony, are you drunk?”
“No” He shook his head and frowned completely confused “Why?”
“There’s this one thing I’ve been wanting to tell you for like a long time, and I need you to listen to me really, really carefully, ok?” He nodded twice so you could go on “This super hard and I swear to god that-”
“Spit it out” He let out a breathy chuckle.
“I kinda, not so kinda, like really like you…” You pursed your lips when you finished, eliciting another puzzled frown from the millionaire “I like you Tony, like a lot”
He threw his head back with a great smile on his lips; you were the one perplexed and frowning now. When he looked at you again, he still had that huge grin across his tired face. By then, you held your legs tightly to your chest and rested your forehead on your needs. Tony hopped closer to you and placed his hand on one of the arms that wrapped your shins.
He draw formless trails on the portions of skin that the pajama couldn’t reach. You looked up and only found a pair of hazel eyes looking straight at you. The corners of his thin lips were curled up into a soft smile. He was just centimeters away from you and you could feel it in yourself. Your heart pounded in your chest quickly and a buzzing filled your ears. You bit your lip every 2 seconds, only in anticipation. Anticipation because he was leaning closer and closer and closer…
His lips were gently pressed against yours. The first few seconds you were like a statue; immobile. Tony tilted his head to the side to gain more access to you, and your hands slowly crept their way up to his unbuttoned shirt. The soft material seemed to blend with your skin. He made you spread your legs and adjusted himself in the space they now granted him. You threw your bock back into the pillows and he followed you.
Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, only making the kiss deepen as he tentatively made you open your mouth. He rocked his hips gently against yours and maybe it was because he had a belt on, but something was hitting your wetting core and it felt pretty damn good.
He had his strong arms on each side of your body, helping him not to crush you on the bed. You held on for dear life to his shoulders and lifted your body just enough away from the bed.
His lips left yours as he traced a path of open mouthed kisses down your jaw and to your neck. You arched your back and gasped for some air as his hands slid down to the hem of your ridiculously oversized shirt/pajama.
“You should wear things your size, (Y/N)” He crooned when the fabric was covering your face and revealing your torso “And you should get an anti-scar cream too…” He whispered after throwing it onto the floor. Tony took a lustful look at each one of the tiny scars that decorated your chest “How did you get this one?” He asked and gently kissed one that conveniently laid on the valley of your breasts, just above your bra.
“A year ago…” Your breath got caught in your windpipe when he sucked on the wounded skin “We–we were… I–I don’t know” You ran your fingers through his dark hair and pulled his face closer to your skin
You hurriedly pushed down his arms his fancy vest and impatiently tore his almost immaculate white shirt apart. His perfectly trained torso had you hypnotized. He complained, but he was silenced by your mouth devouring his. He had some scars too, ones worse than the others. He sank on his knees on the bed and you followed. Your fingers parsimoniously traced the marks on his pecs.
“How did you get these ones?” You purred “My god, they give you such a badass look…”
“I’m not sure” He breathed when your lips met the rough skin “I can’t quite remember”
“This one is cute” You said as you leaned to kiss a scar on his neck, eliciting a soft moan from him “Crazy ex-girlfriend?”
“More like a crazy suit” He corrected “Blame it on the Mark 42”
You threw yourself to him again and made him fall back onto the mattress. You unmade his belt and he lifted his hips to help you remove it completely. You folded the small leather piece in half in your hand and made it sound loudly. You licked your bottom lip in anticipation and threw it away. You were straddling him and slowly rolling your hips back and forward and in circles. Tony had his eyes shut tightly as he held your hands again.
“Don’t be such a tease, (Y/N)” He choked “Let’s just fuck already”
“Is that the way Mr. Stark wants it?” You leaned and spoke softly to his ear, making him shiver with your warm breath.
Following a path of kisses and nips on his neck, you kept rolling your hips against his growing bulge. His hands squeezed your ass, making you throw your head back. You helped him get rid of his pants and finally free his erection. You gave him a knowing look, but he had some other plans in mind. As a revenge for his expensive shirt, he ripped in two your cheap booty shorts, exposing your moist pussy.
Overpowering you and pushing you against the mattress, he teased your entrance with his thick fingers making you whine in pleasure. Once he made sure you were ready to receive him, he slowly pushed himself into you. This also counted as payback for all the teasing you did to him. You maintained the eye contact every second he took in filling you; your jaw quivered and you bit your bottom lip every once in a while.
“Keep looking at me like that and I swear to god I’m gonna come right now” He said before placing a rough kiss on your lips.
Once you had adjusted to his size, his pace gradually increased its speed and your sighs became cries and pleas. Tony nibbled the sensitive skin of your nipples, driving you even crazier.
After working your breasts with his mouth, he lifted his torso and decided to play with your throbbing clit. You closed your eyes tightly as he drew rough circles making you writhe under him; he was driving you mad and there was no way of over powering him at all. You cursed the Lord’s name uncountable times.
Tony hoisted your legs on his inner elbows, reaching a deeper point inside of you. He hit your sweet spot perfectly, and you were truly about to come when he pulled out from you. You looked at him with a frown.
“Turn around” He said. His voice was deadly serious. His eyes were dark and filled with lust.
You obliged, and he slid inside of you again, way quickly this time. The angle he had gained was completely different, and it was glorious. You felt in outer space now. His fingers traced a way down your spine and to your hips, where he dug his fingers. You arched your back and threw your head back.
“Fuck, Tony!” You yelled “I’mgonna…!” Your announcement was left unfinished as the fire that pooled on your abdomen spread throughout every inch of your body. Your head rested on the beddings as your body shook uncontrollably. Tony followed suit a bit later.
He pulled out and threw himself on the foot of the king sized bed. The sheer layer of sweat that had found its place on his forehead made gave him a strangely innocent look. You crawled and curled next to him, burying your face in his chest. His heaving chest and beating heart were soothing, but the night was slightly cold.
“Wanna crash here for the night?” You sheepishly asked, not daring to look at him.
He answered to your question by placing his hand on your chin and kissing your lips tenderly. You didn’t even care about putting your pajamas again. He had already seen you naked and on your worst state. After standing up to turn off the lights, you turned on the lamp of your night table. You rested with your back against his chest while he crossed an arm over you and pulled you closer to him with his hand on your stomach.
“Do you like me, Tony?” You asked in a barely audible voice, feeling the guilt of a one-night stand with the guy you liked creeping up your spine “Like… really like me?”
“Why do you ask?” He asked back “Of course I do, silly bird” He nuzzled against your neck “And after you say yes to being my girlfriend, I will buy you jammies of your size, are we clear?”
“How do you know I’m gonna say yes if you haven’t asked yet?”
“(Y/N), after this incredible first time and considering the undeniable chemistry between us, do you want to be my girlfriend?” His voice was serious again, but you could tell he was being honest.
You turned around and placed your hand on his chin, the same way he had done with you. You looked at him and smile; then, you leaned to kiss him one last time before calling it quits for the night. You still had a few hours before dawn to have a nice rest. You turned around again and dozed off to his soft breathing. The silly smile on your face lasted until the next morning.


Bucky Barnes x reader

Notes: smut, fluff, itty bitty little bit of heartache

(what Bucky does in this little story is probably physically impossible, but the hell with it)

You have your needs and you’re not shy about them. Bucky knew that when he jumped at the opportunity to move in to your apartment, and now suffers the consequence of having fallen in love with his insatiable roommate, with a seemingly endless black book. 

@jjlevin​​ @starstar1012​​ @stephvera​​ @styleswift1989​​ @amf71010​​ @heismyhunter​​  @a-small-independent-princess​​ @bxckytrxsh​​ @incadinkadoo @buckyismybbz@seabastian-barnes@number1fantrash@verycoolveryunique@snowwhiteslays@tesseractbucky​ @popsxerox @the-one-and-only-vampcake @fallingpanickedkilljoys @lostinspace33 @buckyshattergirl @httpstainme @bellejeunefillesansmerci @lilacs-lavender @vickybhutcherson @debbiesarts 

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All I Wanted; C.H. 7

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 , part 5, part 6

When I wake, I’m vaguely aware of the warmth that resonates from the body next to mine. With sleep still in my eyes, I make my way out of the bed and towards the bathroom. Having a ‘Netflix and chill’ night – in the original sense of the term – with your best friend’s brother once is already treason, but doing it twice would resemble my decapitation in the Middle Ages.

I sit down on the closed toilet lid and rake my fingers through my hair. Nothing of all of the things I had heard about Calum in the last years, seemed to be true. Although maybe my own sense was clouded by as well as Meredith and what I wanted to believe. When I was around, he was a decent human being – I wouldn’t say he wasn’t picking on everyone that came around, but on the other hand, that were guys, right? Maybe Meredith was just being a bit overdramatic – something I had known she’d do every once in a while – okay, quite a lot.

When we were completely alone, he was actual boyfriend material. He was witty, gentle and ever so sweet and I couldn’t comprehend how Meredith would label Calum as Satan’s spawn.
If I had to believe Meredith, Calum had changed horribly throughout the years that I hadn’t spent my every weekend in the Hood residence. When we were younger, Calum was like an actual older brother would be. He’d be whiny, witty, and you’d hate him to death. But whenever Mer was in trouble, Calum would be the first one to come to her aid.

Now, he had become horrible rude, where he would constantly pick a fight with Meredith or their parents about the smallest of things. He would stay out until mornings, stinking of beer and cigarettes while he slept out his intoxication. Sometimes – if I had to believe Meredith, more than once a week – this would include a one-night stand, most of the times Meredith making the girls breakfast and handing tissues to wipe their tears. Calum would apparently kick them out of his bed with a ‘thanks for the fun night, babe’.

“Y/n?” I hear Calum’s deep, groggy morning voice chime through the hallway. He must have awoken. “I’ll be right there.” I instantly return, pushing myself up from the toilet lid and walking over to the mirror. I wasn’t sure what I were to do – because I was quite enjoying this – whatever this was – even though nothing remotely significant had happened. Calum and I were merely flirting a slight bit and I hadn’t felt this wanted in months.

Sometimes a girl needed to receive a compliment from someone that wasn’t obliged to do so. Sometimes a girl wanted a guy to text them good morning beautiful even though she knew there might be more girls receiving the same forwarded text. It didn’t matter that in the back of my mind something was gnawing away, the way he acted around and towards me was something I didn’t know I was craving.

Was there any harm in what was happening?

After a few shallow breaths, I decide to make my way back to my room. When I stop myself again, I have an answer. No one would ponder back and forth so much if the other side of the problem didn’t mean that much. Meredith meant an awful lot to me and she explicitly said to stay away from her brother. I shouldn’t be doing this. I take a deep breath and when I think I’ve made up my mind, it shifts again. On the other hand, I wanted to be happy myself. And didn’t I deserve to be happy?

I deserved it just as much as any other girl in the world. And if shameless flirting was my happiness… Meredith can’t know.

“Ah, there you are.” Calum yawns as he stretches his toned, tattooed arms over his head. I lean against the doorway, arms crossed over my chest as I smirk in Calum’s direction.
“Do you want me to make you some breakfast?” I sweetly ask, pushing myself off of the doorway and walking towards the bed, dropping on the end of it, where the sheets were bunched up on my side. Calum sighs dreamily, his eyes still half closed but he peeks in my direction anyway.

“Nah, thank you babe. I think I have to get home, before Mer wakes up and has my ass.” Calum chuckles and I bite the inside of my cheek as I rather forcefully as I grin in his direction. If he could stop bringing her up, this would be an awful lot less complicated for my nerve wrecking brain.

I try to avert my gaze – to no use – as Calum, clad in boxer shorts, walks across my room to the lone chair where he had dumped his clothes on last night.

I watch him dress, slowly, still half asleep. His large, lanky frame wobbles as he tries to get his skinny jeans over his thighs. It’s quite a sight I can’t steer my gaze away from. When he turns, he throws a wink in my direction and I am quick to avert my gaze with the blush prominent on my cheeks. I feel like a teenager again.

“Are you walking me out?” Calum asks as he holds his hand out for me to take, guiding me towards the front door, my head turning at the ugly painting of our dog, which was the whole reason Calum was even here.

“Well, thank you for the good care. And for helping me out last night.” Calum smiles as it’s his turn to lean against the doorframe of my opened front door. “It’s nothing.” I smile shyly, my fingers toying with the hem of his shirt.
“Maybe you shouldn’t tell Meredith that you stayed here. You know – to avoid uh – anything?” I grant Calum with a tight lipped smile, more of a grimace when I see the frown settle onto his features.

It’s quite for a moment too long.
“Uh – yeah? I guess, alright. See you around, Y’/n.” I see Calum shake his head as he slowly saunters back over towards his car and disappears without a second glance in my direction.


My phone rings obnoxiously loud, but the music blaring from my speakers is way louder. That is probably the reason I hadn’t seen the four missed calls from Meredith, along with a few texts to accompany my voice mails. When it goes off the fifth time, I’m right in time to press the smartphone to my ear while wheezing into the receiver.

Took you long enough.” Meredith groans into the receiver and I can’t help but roll my eyes as I pick up my mop again. “Well sorry princess, but I’m cleaning my house and I’m not glued to my phone.”
“You definitely aren’t. Otherwise you would’ve answered one of the four times I already called.”

“Oh girl, you are such a drama queen. What do you want?” I set the mop to the side when I reach the end of the living room, wiping the beads of sweat that had formed on my forehead away. My dad was coming home in a few days and somehow, without being home, I always could get the house in a complete mess. “I wanted to see what you were up to.”

“Nothing much, cleaning. How’s Michael? He was shit wasted last night.” I laugh, heading over to the fridge for a can of coke and sitting down at the kitchen counter with my phone on speaker.
He went home to sleep it off. He spent half of the night groaning about how he was going to vomit.” I can just hear that Meredith is rolling her eyes with an amused grin on her lips, which makes me smile as well.

“And did he?” I question, raising the can to my lips as I let my gaze wander outside for the slightest moment. “No. He made all the noises though, but that’s it.” I immediately get nauseous at the thought of someone vomiting and Meredith simply laughs in the receiver.

You should be damn glad you’re not dating Michael. You would’ve died with the amount of times he hangs with his head in a toilet bowl.” This makes me snort loudly, coke flying past my lips as I had just taken a sip. “Gross. Please don’t elaborate.”

I won’t. But are you coming over? I’m bored.”
“I’ll come over in five. I still have to mop the floor in the kitchen and then I’m stuck outside anyway.” I shrug my shoulders even though Meredith can’t see as I jump off of the kitchen counter and pick up my mop again.

She is quiet on the other side of the receiver and I am about to ask what was troubling her mind before she breaks the silence she herself had created.
“I saw Calum sneak in this morning.” My eyes widen and I’m sure I’ve let a gasp involuntarily past my lips, my hand raising as I squeeze my eyes closed.

“Oh?” Couldn’t you think of something better to say, moron?
“He did drop you off last night, right?” Meredith seems accusing of her brother again and I have to bite down harshly on my bottom lip to refrain myself from coming to Calum’s aid.

“Yes he did. Maybe he needed to be somewhere this morning, there wasn’t a girl all night.” I decide to dismissively state, sticking my mop back into the water filled bucket as I woosh it around.
“I don’t see Calum waking up before the crack of dawn.” She’s again brisk and non-believing as she speaks. I roll my eyes, thankful she can’t see me as I start cleaning my kitchen floor with my one free hand.

“Mer, people can change, you know that right? Don’t worry about it too much, Calum is old enough to fend for himself, alright?” I change my tone just the slightest bit, hoping a soft, motherly tone wouldn’t make me sound like a horrible friend. I knew the words that have left my mouth just now would go down the wrong hole. I’d known Meredith for quite some time, after all.
Alright. See you soon.” Meredith answers briskly before our conversation is cut off and I’m left to clean my house and wander what the hell was up with my best friend lately.

Let me know what you think xox

CSJJ Day 7: Step By Step My Heart Will Start Melting

Apologies for posting so late in the day! 5.2k words of College AU CS for @csjanuaryjoy, based on the prompt ‘My friends persuaded me to offer ‘free hugs’ but I hate being touched, what is this?’ aka the one where Emma can’t let a bet go featuring Killian and onion rings. Rated H for Hugging.

This will be up on and ao3 later in the week when I finally manage to sort out my online life. Thanks for reading, and enjoy!

Emma’s New Year’s Resolution is off to a terrible start. It’s just gone 3am on January 1st and she’s already had to fend off three different guys whom her friends have shoved towards her, giving her significant looks.

The party’s starting to wind down, and she’s currently resorted to nursing another beer in the corner of the sofa, watching the parade of drunken college students stumbling out of the apartment door.

“Emmaaaaaa,” Mary Margaret waltzes towards her across the mostly-deserted room and plops down next to her, eyes shining a little more brightly than usual in her alcohol-induced haze. Her boyfriend David follows her, catching Emma’s eye with a chuckle and settling next to his girlfriend, linking their fingers easily while Mary Margaret continues to smile up at Emma.

“Why’re you all alone?” Mary Margaret asks. Her usual tact has apparently disappeared along with her sobriety.

“I’m not – ” Emma starts, but she’s cut off by Ruby waving towards her as she approaches with yet another man in tow.

“Emma! Meet Eric,” she announces proudly, thrusting the poor guy forward.

Emma ignores him, fixing Ruby with a glare.

“Rubes, I already said, I’m not interested.”

Ruby just raises her eyebrows encouragingly, ignoring the man’s awkward fidgeting.

“No offense,” Emma adds, throwing a cursory nod to the guy.

“I’ll, uh, Happy New Year,” Eric says, before turning and making a hasty escape through the front door.

“Emma!” Ruby whines, collapsing onto the arm of the sofa, “Do you want to spend your first night of 2017 in a cold, dark bed alone?”

“I just want you guys to stop setting me up with people when I told you I’m not interested,” Emma mutters, glaring darkly into her beer can. Her words must come out harsher than she intended because Ruby doesn’t respond, and maybe she should feel bad but it’s really starting to bug her that her friends are so insistent on setting her up and maybe she wants to be single, okay?

“Emma,” Mary Margaret tries, leaning her head on Emma’s arm, “We just don’t want you to feel left out of our group dates.”

And there’s the reason for her friends’ increasingly aggressive attempts at matchmaking. Mary Margaret and David may have been the world’s most sickeningly adorable couple since their (direct quote) ‘love at first sight’ back in the first week of freshman year, but Ruby’s betrayal as her fellow singleton came as a surprise to them all when Belle came into the picture, the couple becoming official last summer. Since then, Mary Margaret’s obsession with couple dates has led Emma’s friends on a seemingly unstoppable crusade to find her a boyfriend. Hence the New Year’s Resolution to find a way out of this speed-dating hell.

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Don’t Make Me Call Mom - 31 Days of Halloween

(I suck at naming, have you noticed that?)

This is from my 31 Days of Halloween Writing Challenge.

Request: can you do 50 and 53 with dean x reader? preferably something along the lines of how they bicker a lot but sam knows they like each other and is tired of their bickering and finally snaps and tries to get them together?
could you do 49 and 62 with Dean x Reader with some sassy Sam in it too? Just a lot of funny sarcasm and stuff. You can add some smut in it too if you want i don’t really know just whatever you think is best🙂

Characters: Dean x reader, Sam, Mary (mentioned).

Word count: 3,604 (2,958 without the smut).

Warnings: Maybe language. There’s light smut in the end but you can totally skip that.

A/N: I mixed two requests because I figured they would go on well together. So I hope I was right and you enjoy this thing. Also, I’m sorry, I had to mention Mary because I’m a douche and I can’t get over 12x01.

*I hope there’s enough Sassy Sam for your liking, sweetheart.

“Why do we have to work on Halloween night?” (Y/N) complained as she and Dean were packing up the Impala.

“Because monsters are douchebags.” Dean replied with an eye roll.

Sam appeared from inside the bunker and packed his own duffel bag into the trunk. The three hunters got inside the car and soon they began driving to Oklahoma, where the brother’s had tracked supernatural activity.

Basically, it was all the same: a few dead bodies, flickering lights and no apparent suspects. The brothers decided to have a look, especially because it was only a five hour trip in a normal speed – which was a three and a half hour trip in a Winchester speed.

It was still morning when they left, so they had the whole day to interrogate and, probably, have the night off.

The interrogations went incredibly well. Every witness had something relevant to say, which was uncommon for the Winchesters.

“So… What do you think?” Sam asked his brother as the last witness left the room.

“Demons, that’s for sure.” Dean replied.

“But why would a demon kill exclusively people wearing Halloween costumes?” (Y/N) inquired.

“The real question is: why were people wearing Halloween costumes before time?” Dean said, lifting his eyebrow. Sam chuckled and then the three hunters left the station.

(Y/N) looked around as they walked over to the Impala. A lot of kids were already dressed up, and it felt like everyone in town would eventually put on a costume. Dean noticed her behaviour and stopped her from getting inside the car.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” He asked, holding her by the arm.

“It’s just… Tonight, everyone will be a prey… They’re all in danger and we can’t do anything because we don’t know who will get attacked.” She explained, still looking around.

“Hey.” Dean called, cupping her face to make her look him in the eyes. “We’ll find that bitch and we’ll kill it before anyone else gets killed, I promise.” She smiled at Dean’s words.

“Good.” She mumbled shyly.

“Then we can celebrate Halloween as you had planned.” Dean continued. Sam rolled his eyes and groaned.

“Get a room!” The younger snapped, taking Dean and (Y/N) out of their intimacy time.

“That’s the next stop, Sammy.” Dean replied with a manly voice. He helped (Y/N) inside Baby and then took off to the closest motel.


“So, I have like three suspects.” Sam spoke; his eyes were glued to his laptop.

“Great, so let’s go get them.” Dean shrugged, taking a swig from his beer.

“Yeah, they live pretty far from each other so uh… We’ll have to split up.” Sam clicked his tongue.

“Why don’t we all visit them together? One by one.” Dean suggested, sitting in front of his brother.

“Because it’s about to get dark and your girlfriend will kill us if anyone else dies.” Sam explained.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Dean snapped.

“Right, I forgot… She’s not your girlfriend because you can’t grow a pair and ask her.” Sam sassed.

“Shut up, Sam.” Dean grumbled, looking back at the bathroom door to make sure the shower was still running.

“How old are you? Ten? Just go and talk to her.” Sam insisted.

“Oh sure, I’ll just crash while she showers and ‘oh hey, (Y/N) guess what?’” Sam laughed at the thought but shushed at Dean’s death glare.

“All I’m saying is that you don’t lose anything by telling her.”

Before Dean could argue, (Y/N) came out of the shower. She was wearing skinny jeans, boots and a white shirt with red that read “Daddy’s Lil Monster”. Dean recognized it from her potential costume for Halloween that year. She also had red lipstick on, and a wearable Harley Quinn based eye makeup.

(Y/N) sat down with the Winchesters, completely oblivious to Dean’s drooling, and let Sam explain to her everything about the three suspects.

“So the man was in the three crime scenes… The other one was only in two but he made the call for the third and the girl… Don’t know exactly why but security cameras show footage of her near the crime scenes a few minutes later after the victims got killed.” Sam explained using his nerd voice.

“Okay so I’ll go get the chick, you two get the guys.” (Y/N) dictated.

Before 7 pm. Each hunter was already with the suspect.

Dean got the bigger guy; Sam the one who was only at two of the murders. Both of them seemed to be normal guys, but the brother’s knew that normal wasn’t to be trusted. Therefore, they used violence to get answers.

What begun with threatening, turned into the brothers punching the suspects on the face until they spoke. Dean’s victim was the first to talk, however, Sam’s followed soon after and the brothers ended almost at the same time.

“Sam, we’re screwed.” Dean called his brother on the phone.

“I know, mine also told me.” Sam replied.

“We need to get to (Y/N) fast.” And with that said, Dean hung the phone and drove his car to pick up Sam and help (Y/N).

Turns out, it was the girl. She had hired the two men to make sure the crime scenes were gory enough to call the Winchesters attention, knowing that they would get there in no time after finding out. She wanted to lure them to her on Halloween night, knowing that she would need the blood of a righteous man, Lucifer’s vessel and, of course, a human sacrifice. The Winchesters and (Y/N) were the perfect package for the ritual she was planning to do.


“So it was you… All this time.” (Y/N) gulped, trying to look tough. The demon smiled in response. “What do you want from us?

“Isn’t it obvious?” The demon asked with an innocent voice. “Samhain.”

“Awesome.” (Y/N) sighed, “Well then, go on. You got me, what are you waiting for?” The demon had already disarmed (Y/N), the huntress was now defenceless.

“I’m waiting for my minions. You’ll see, I would kill you myself but I don’t want to get slut on my hands.” The demons smirked and so did (Y/N).

“Of course, you already got enough slut on your outfit to get more on your hands.”


Sam got a phone call just when he and Dean were about to get to where (Y/N) was. It was one of the demon’s minions, and he told Sam that a few other demons would attack an abandoned house where a lot of orphans lived.

“Really?” Dean stammered, “Not only orphans but orphans who can’t even live in an orphanage with tutors to care for them?”

“Yeah, they chose the most tragic thing of them all to get us there.” Sam explained with an eye roll.

In spite of how worried the brothers were for (Y/N)’s safety, they knew that she would kill them with her bare hands if they let the orphans die. Therefore, they changed the route and drove off to the abandoned house.

The kids there were all gathered around a few slices of bread some of the older ones had stolen. They were about to start eating when the brothers crashed in, scaring the crap out of the kids.

“We’re here to protect you, please don’t be scared.” Dean begged.

“We literally crashed without even knocking, guns in hand, and you ask them not to be frightened?” Sam sassed.

“Shut up, Sam.”

While Dean calmed the kids down, Sam proceeded to guard every single room, door, and window in the house. He put salt on every corner and all kinds of sigils around the walls. Then, he went back down and called his brother who was now heartbroken at the thought of the kids not having enough to eat. Sam literally dragged him out.

“Okay so, please stay safe and if anyone knocks the door, don’t open it. It’s probably a ghost.” Dean commanded.

“Really, Dean?” Sam huffed.

“What? I can’t tell them they’re actually demons.” Dean whispered to his brother.

“You scared them anyway!” Sam exclaimed, “He’s just joking kids. Ghosts aren’t real… But please, don’t open the door to anyone unless it’s us, okay?” The kids nodded and shut the door as the Winchesters jumped back into the Impala.

“You suck with kids, you know that?” Sam asked as Dean drove.

“Oh yeah? I thought I did a pretty good job with you.” Dean snapped. He was slightly offended.

“I mean yeah but, those kids aren’t us. You can’t just tell them to beware of ghosts.” Sam furrowed.

“But they should beware of ghosts!” Dean defended himself.

“I mean yeah, but seriously? Those poor kids will have nightmares for the rest of their lives.” Dean groaned.

“Right, because being poor isn’t as bad as being told to beware of ghosts.”

“Dude, chill.”


Unarmed or not, (Y/N) threw herself over to fight the demon; although, it wasn’t a proper fight. Anyone who had seen them would’ve thought it was a cat-fight rather than an actual life or death kind of thing.

The Winchesters bursted the door open. The demon had been hiding at her meat suit’s house. The girl’s parents were slaughtered in the basement, and the smell was almost unbearable.

A loud crash called the brother’s attention to the attic. They went up and found the demon about to cut (Y/N) throat - She had the huntress pinned to the wall, knife in hand and positioned exactly on (Y/N)’s neck.

“Hey bitch!” Dean roared, making the demon snap her head towards him.

“Leave my brother’s girlfriend alone!” Sam shouted.

“Not my girlfriend Sam.” Dean insisted.

“Yeah, because the only balls you have are your eyes.” Dean gave his brother a death glare, but didn’t argue anymore because the demon had let go off (Y/N) and had started walking towards the brothers, flashing her black orbs to state her kind.

What a pretty pair of black eyes you got.” Sam hissed sarcastically.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” The demon smiled.

“Then I must have said it wrong.” Sam sassed.

“Bitch.” Dean added. Sam rolled his eyes and ran towards the demon, attacking her.

Dean used Sam’s distraction to help (Y/N). The demon had sliced her leg and stabbed her a couple times, leaving the girl in a pool of her own blood.

Dean picked her up and tried to take her to the Impala, but the huntress refused, claiming that she wouldn’t let the bitch ass demon to see her give up.

“That’s my girl.” Dean smirked, leaving her to stand by herself.

“Can you two stop flirting for once?!” Sam thundered, trying to push the demon away from him. Dean ran to his brother as (Y/N) limped her way there; she was still bleeding and it was painful as hell.

The demon made Dean fly and crash against a wall by using her hands; meanwhile Sam was pinned to the floor, trying to avoid getting stabbed. The demon didn’t really care for (Y/N); she was too weak to be a threat.

Dean got up, and threw himself over the demon, tackling her to the floor. Sam took that in advantage and held her down as his brother punched her. (Y/N) took the knife and the brothers gave her space to stab.

“Screw you, bitch.” The huntress hissed as the sunk the blade deep inside the demon – killing her instantly.


“It hurts!” (Y/N) cried as Dean pressed a cotton swab with alcohol on her wounds.

“I know, but you have to hold on.” Dean begged, pressing the cotton against her skin again.

“Why are you even crying? I mean, as hunter you get used to getting a few scratches.” Sam asked, handing his brother the booze bottle.

“Yeah, before hunting with you two I used to heal my wounds with real alcohol instead of cheap Jack Daniel’s wannabes!” She complained, followed by a loud cry as Dean poured the alcohol directly into her wounds.

“Well, sweetheart. This is all we got.” Dean replied, cleaning her injuries with an old cloth.

Sam chuckled and excused himself out of the room, claiming that he’d go get dinner. Dean didn’t buy it, knowing exactly what his brother wanted. He followed Sam out of the room.

“I thought we agreed to ask for room service.” Dean chuckled.

“Yeah, I checked the menu and there’s nothing edible there.” Sam shrugged his shoulders.

“Right.” Dean nodded, showing how much he didn’t believe his brother’s words. Sam sighed and smiled.

“She’s already half naked, Dean. You literally have nothing to lose.” Sam wiggled his eyebrows.

“She’s half naked because a demon stabbed her upper legs and abdomen!” Dean whispered loudly.

“So? It’s not like you’re not enjoying the view anyway.” Sam joked.

“How mature, Sammy.” Dean fumed.

“Well look who’s talking!” Sam laughed, “At least I’m not scared to talk to a girl who clearly likes me.”

“Yeah? Well at least I… I… I’m not scared to clowns!” Dean sassed.

“Excuse me? Clowns are a pretty acceptable phobia because they’re fugly. (Y/N) is just a girl.” Sam snapped back.

“A girl that can kick my ass and yours too!” Dean trembled.

“Which she won’t because she likes you!” Sam insisted.

“Shut up, Sam.” Dean replied, having run out of arguments.

“I’ll be gone for as long as I can, and if I come back to you still being a woos… I’ll call mom, and she’ll be a lot more embarrassing than you think.” Sam threatened.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Dean mumbled.

“You’re leaving no choice here, Dean.” Sam giggled. He got in on the Impala and turned it on, gesturing Dean to go back to the room.


“Took you long enough, Winchester.” (Y/N) joked as Dean got back in the room. She was still laying on the table, playing with her phone.

“Sam and I had to talk about some… things.” Dean explained, going back to check on her.

“Sounds serious.” She muttered, leaving her phone to the side.

“It is.” Dean nodded, “So uh… The leg wounds are good now but uh… I need to check the others.” He swallowed.

“Sure.” She joked, “I’m half naked anyway.”

Dean helped her sit up as she removed her shirt. Dean couldn’t help but to notice how her black lace bra seemed to match to her plain black panties.

“So… What do you think?” She asked.

“Wha-What?” Dean stuttered, making her giggle.

“About the stab wounds.” She reiterated.

“OH uh… I will have to stitch this one.” Dean shuddered, pointing at one of the still bloody wounds.

“Oh no, no, no, no.” She stated.

“Sweetheart, it will get infected if I don’t stitch it.” Dean explained.

“Fine.” She sighed, “But make it quick.” She begged.

Dean pushed her to lay her back flat on the table again as he prepared the needle. Before stitching her, he cupped her face and tried to calm her down.

“It won’t hurt that much, I promise.” He spoke softly, his green eyes becoming her greatest comfort. “Close your eyes and count to ten.” She nodded and did as Dean told her.

She counted slowly, her voice was trembling and her fists were clenched tightly. Dean stitched her as fast as he could, trying not to hurt her. When she was counting number five, Dean accidentally pressed another wound, making her squeal; apart from that, the whole process was painless.

“Ten.” She sighed and opened her eyes. Dean’s green ones were staring at her lovingly. “Did you finish already?”

“Yes.” He nodded. (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief.

“Will I live?” She joked.

“I don’t know, ma’am. There’s a big chance that your brain will drip through the stitches.” Dean joked back, helping her to sit up. She giggled and punch him playfully in the arm.

“Asshole.” She muttered.

“Hey, you started it.” Dean smirked, lifting his hands up in front of his chest to prove his innocence.

“I know.” She laughed, looking down. “I should get dressed.” Dean groaned playfully.

“Why? I am actually enjoying the view.” Dean flirted, making her blush.

“Shut up, Winchester.” She snapped.

“Shush me.” Dean replied in a softer, more serious voice.

(Y/N) looked up at Dean, her eyes were wide at his words. Without saying more, Dean shifted closer to her, making his way between her legs – which were now hanging from the edge of the table. He carefully placed his hands around her hips, careful not to touch any wound and graced his lips over her red ones.

“Dean…” She sighed, her breath ghosting over Dean’s lips.

“I like you, (Y/N).” He confessed.

“Why are you telling me now?” She asked without moving apart.

“Because if I don’t, Sam will call our mom.” Dean chuckled.

“Really?” (Y/N) let out a soft giggle as Dean nodded in response. “We can’t let that happen, can we?”

“No, it would be a disaster.” Dean licked his lips and then rolled them under his perfect teeth.

“So?” (Y/N) asked flirtingly.

“So kiss me.” Dean whispered, moving closer to her. However, she placed her hand over his chest, pushing him back.

“I can’t… I can’t kiss you, I spent too much on my makeup.” Dean was the one to giggle this time.

“Screw the makeup.” And without further talking, Dean captured her lips in a heated kiss.

He moved one of his hands over to rake it through her hair, guiding her into the deepening kiss. He was still careful about her wounds, but he couldn’t help to shift her closer to him. She wrapped her legs slowly around his waist, biting Dean’s lower lips at the pain that it caused in her but coping with it like a badass.

After all, Sam wouldn’t have to call their mom.

**Now this is where the smut takes place. It is completely optional so read at your own risk.

Originally posted by sexonthechevyimpala

(Y/N) got rid of Dean’s multiple layers of upper clothing. His muscly chest burned against her skin and he pressed himself to her in order to deepen the kiss even more. Anyone who saw them would think they were sucking each other’s face by now.

(Y/N) then removed his belt and pushed his jeans down. She moved a hand towards his tenting boxers and started to palm him, making Dean groan in pleasure.

“Bed. Now.” She ordered over Dean’s lips.

“Not yet.” Dean replied, ripping her bra off.

The hunter moved his lips to her chin and trailed them down to her breasts where he captured one of her nipples, sending electric waves all over her body. With a free hand, he pinched her other nipple as her lips nibbled the first. She arched her back and let out a breathy moan.

Afterwards, Dean helped her out of her panties; taking special care not to touch her injured skin. The he got rid of his boxers and pulled her closer to his hips.

“Please, Dean.” She begged.

Dean placed himself between her folds and pushed hard into her, filling her completely in one swift move. (Y/N) cried out a profanity as Dean began to thrust in and out of her in a slow pace.

“Language.” Dean joked as he steadied his moves.

“Screw you.” (Y/N) hissed, making Dean chuckle.

Dean was moving at an agonizingly slow pace. He was worried that going faster and/or harder would unstitch her, but (Y/N) was far from caring about it.

“Dean… Faster… Please.” She managed to beg. Dean hesitated, but (Y/N) insisted and he couldn’t resist.

He started moving faster, making sure to thrust deeper and harder into her. She moaned loudly, making sure the guests at the other rooms wouldn’t forget Dean’s name in a while. The table trembled at Dean’s pace and that’s when he decided to finally move to the bed.

Dean carried (Y/N) without coming out of her. She wrapped her legs around his waist tightly as a matter of support and kissed his jaw until he leaned her softly on the bed.

“I won’t break, Dean.” She joked.

“Yeah, I’m not risking it though.” He smirked and proceeded to retake his moves.

(Y/N) was under Dean, which made him be extra conscious about each and every single one of her stitches. He was holding his weight on his arms, which were placed on each side of (Y/N)’s head. She, on the other hand, had her arms around Dean’s neck; her nails were carving on his skin as her walls clenched around him.

“I’m close.” She whispered.

“Me too.” Dean grumbled, pushing deeper into her.

“And I’m close from puking.” Sam hissed from the door.

(Y/N) and Dean snapped their head towards the younger hunter, who had a disgusted look on his face.

“You’re early.” Dean muttered.

“And you’re naked.” Sam complained, “You know? When I told you to talk to her, I meant real talk not just… THIS!”

“We did talk.” (Y/N) beamed from under Dean, and the hunter nodded.

“Yeah, we did.” Dean reassured.

“Whatever.” Sam stated, “I’ll be in the car. Please get decent.”

“Can we at least finish?” Dean joked as Sam left the room.

“Dude!” Sam looked back at his brother, “Gross.” And with that said, he shut the door behind him.

“I’ll take that as a yes if you do too.” (Y/N) wiggled her eyebrows at Dean.

“I hate myself for not asking you out earlier.” Dean whispered in awe.

Dean kept moving, building up their orgasms once more and, this time, they did get to reach their high without interruptions. Afterwards, Dean called his brother back to the room, where they had dinner as Sam ranted about them being gross and “so not careful with her recent stitches”.

But hey, at least Sam didn’t have to call Mary.

Dan x Reader - We Could Not Belong To Something So Damn Beautiful

Plot: VERY VERY VERY very loosely based off of a Shawn Mendes’ Imagination lyric. Dan and y/n have a drunk night that results in an accidental pregnancy and they have the child. But now Dan is admiring this life in front of him. Just saying, the song plot literally has nothing to do with this plot.
Warning: Strong Language and Explicitly

Inspired By This Lyric:
“All this time we spent alone, thinking we could not belong to something so damn beautiful
So damn beautiful.“ 

A/N: I kind of recommend listening to the song while reading however it lasts much longer than the song. Perhaps later in the story, the song sound be nice. The story is really long and detailed, just to let you know. There’s steam, angst, pain, tears, labor, it’s the whole works really. Feedback is always greatly appreciated!

Dan’s POV
y/n and I’s relationship was complex and complicated. She had a rough childhood which came with harm from others or herself, and I have my own insecurities from existential to loathing myself and self harm. We both had our own problems and complications, but we were also both deeply cared for each other. We were never fully official, but we were a thing. Sometimes we were friends with benefits and others time mockable lovers, but we protected each other like family, whether that was from ourselves or others. That night however, we were fuck buddies, who happeneded to be dating and were usually responsible adults. y/n and I had a friend who was throwing a party and we attended. Eventually one drink led to another and that led us to the bedroom. That night was full of achohol, lust, pleasure.

*Flashback Scene*
I watched y/n down another drink from my seat. Along with the beers, she went for a shot. It was a shot of Hennessy or Vodka maybe even Whiskey, but my mind is too blurry to see. But there was something I could see, y/n. Damn, she was fucking hot. Her makeup was all done with black eye makeup and that red lip, making me want to go on and kiss her. y/n’s hair was flowing down, perfect as usual, and she was wearing a black dress that I wanted to yank off. I freaking craved her and I was gonna make sure she knew it, if she didn’t already.
“Dan…” The girl came over with her sweet scent, she ran her fingers through my hair. She was drunk duh, as was I. I grabbed her by the waist and went to make out with her. I felt an b come on and she laughed. “Uh, uh, uh.” y/n waved her index finger mockingly at me. “Not yet.” What a tease. She walked away too fast or I was too slow, but we were both so drunk we looked pathetic trying to move. I watched perfection on legs walking away from me.
“Oi Dan?! Another drink?” My friend, Olly, asked me as put another beer bottle in my hand. I don’t even know how much I drank at this point, I just keep its been a hell of a lot. y/n and I had both had a stressful week, from our careers to personal loyalties, so today we were going to let loose. I understood that. But it’s been now been little awhile since I’ve seen y/n. Where the hell is she? I’m tired of waiting, I want her now. I walked in to see her dancing drunkly with some girls. Her hands are up in the air and her face is smiling. “Whoo!” I walk over to her catching her as she nearly falls from the unstableness of alcohol. y/n looks at me and I smell the alcohol from her breath. As fast as she can, she runs over to one of our guy friends and starts to grind on him. “I love this song!” What the hell is y/n doing? The guy slightly enjoyed it, but handed her over to me. I’m guessing he saw the intoxicated rage in my eyes.
“What the hell was that y/n.” I ask raising my voice.
Her lips smack together, “What do you mean it’s a party babe?” Did she really just gave me at this moment? She starts to go a push against me again obviously drunk, which causes me to go hard. No, concentrate Dan.
I straighten out my voice. “I mean why the hell were you grinding on top of–”
“Shhhhh.” She slurs. “Why are you so mad?”
Jealously flows over me. “What? Are you kidding me right now? What do you mean why am I mad? Mad that my girlfriend–”
y/n’s eyes narrow and she locks in her glare. “Is that what I am? I’m your girlfriend now?” y/n asks with sarcasm and sass, she might be drunk but I could hear soberness in the aggravated tone. She was hot was hot when she was mad. But so was I, maybe it’s because my frustration how much I liked her. Who cares.
“Well bloody hell y/n! That’s what I thought!” I said clearly upset.
“Oh I’m sorry, I thought we were just fuck buddies. As you never went or wanted to clarify and now you get all jealous.” She spat out, I hated her saying that but it was true. I loved her even like this. Why can’t you just tell her you love her Dan? You’ve been doing it long enough to know. Fuck it. I’m doing it right now, intoxicated as hell. Doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.
“Well, I’m clarifying now. You’re my girlfriend.” I said not caring as an urge came over me. y/n flinched up at my sudden dominance, guessing she was turned on.
“Fine by me.” She hummed drunkly surprised.
I pinned her against the wall behind us and pressed my lips on hers not asking for permission in. y/n pulled back her eyes signaling to the bedroom, starting to unzip my jeans. I carried her up the stairs to a room, I didn’t care where we were but I just cared that we were going. I threw her on the bed continuing as I threw off my trousers while gripping her leg. I finally got to take that freaking dress off while y/n mounted herself on me. y/n moaned “Dan, just hurry the hell up,” and finished her sentence with plenty profanities. I smirked and said some choice words myself. I craved her for ever since I could remember. Her last defying pleasuring and pleading sound was enough for me to fully go in. The two moderately responsible adults were gone. Lust came over us and whatever was included in that.

I remember the day y/n told me clearly. It was about 2 weeks after, as she was feeling awful and apparently missed a period, although I didn’t notice other than her nausea that I tried best to help her with. I was walking around my flat when I saw y/n sitting wide open in bathroom with tears in eyes.
“y/n?!” I ran over with concern, hoping there wasn’t a razor in her hand and there wasn’t, it was a stick.
“Dan.” I saw her fear in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” I saw the pregnancy test, her finger was covering the determining factor.
“I’m pregnant.” She said sounding weak with the tears leaking out, her eyes getting redder by the second.
“You’re wha– you are?” y/n removed her finger and revealed the determining positive sign. I didn’t know what to say as I saw the crying girl sitting in from me. What was I even supposed to say?
y/n shakily opened her mouth to speak.
“I don’t know what to do. I just didn’t think of it until now and that night we didn’t use…” y/n was right, we didn’t, I wasn’t too concerned with that when I was drunk. “Wait did you?” She asked hopefully thinking its a false negative.
“No.” I shook my head.
“Yeah, well I didn’t take a pill because I was too hungover afterwards.”
She looked liked she did something wrong and expected me to be angry with her, but it was the exact opposite. I could and would never even blame her for a second.
All I could say was sympathetic “Oh.”
She popped her head up, “Dan? What the heck am I supposed to do?” The tears poured faster out of her eyes. She curled up with her legs into a ball and began weeping into her chest. It killed me to see her crying like this, I needed to at least try to soothe her.
“Hey, I’m going to be here for you y/n. Okay? It’s going to be the both of us not just you. You’re not alone in this.” I said meaning every word, trying to comfort the woman carrying my child. I held her for a little before I saw another worried look on y/n’s face. “I don’t even have a place to go. Oh my gosh…” Her voiced choked. “My family would never let me live with them like this.”
Me even thinking about letting y/n continue to live with in that abusive home, and let alone our child was out of the question.
“No. You can move in here with me. It’s big enough and if not we’ll find another place.” “Really?” y/n asked hopelessly, not bothering to look up.
“But Dan, we’re not even married and we’ve only been together for not even that long…” Her already broken voice strayed away.
“Well not officially, but we’ve been close for at least more than a year now.”
While becoming a father seemed daunting to me, the thought of y/n and as a family walking among the beach with our child seemed amazing. Walking alongside hand in hand at the beach. I snapped out of the daze and looked to y/n current crying state. I went to hug y/n with my arms holding her on the bathroom tiles. I tucked a hair out of her red and damp face.
She began to speak, shakily but at least she could speak again, “We’re both so young and starting out our careers.”
She was right there, sure I’d been doing YouTube for a couple of years but I planned a long career and y/n had a great job for almost a year and I couldn’t ask her to give that up.
“I could stay home with-”
I stopped myself because I was going to say the baby. If I said that, it would mean it was real and true and I can’t process that right now. But y/n got the message and looked up at me with sudden small hope.
“You really would want to stay home?” She asked curiously.
“Well yeah.” I smiled weakly, at her tears eyes while hugging her.

y/n moved in with me and worked for the first trimester and everything was going fine.
I came back from the BBC to see y/n distressed sitting quietly on the sofa. She wasn’t crying or mad, there was just something wrong. I prayed it wasn’t the child or her well being.
“y/n, what’s wrong?” I asked worriedly.
“Are you sure you want this?” I widened my eyes at her, of course I wanted this. I wanted to be with the girl that I knew I always loved for years. The one who understood my problems and I understood their’s. The one who always loved me for who I was, the one for me. The girl who was having my child.
“Yes, do you not?”
“No. It’s not that I don’t, it’s just we’re both…” I knew what was coming next.
“Broken. Or at least I am.” y/n said sadly.
My eyes started to water a little because unfortunately, this was true. I thought about all the times we had to save each other. I practically ran in the rain to get to y/n’s house when I heard about her step father yelling and possibly hurting her again. Once I scavenged her whole entire room for anything sharp, after finding her crying and harming herself. While she helped me and took me out of the grey darkness that was what I thought my life was multiple times.
y/n came from an abusive household which didn’t help any with her self worth issues and caused her to cut and get panic attacks. I had my own problems too…
“Yeah, you’re right.” I looked to y/n’s face fill with sorrow while looking at her stomach. “Bringing a child into the world with our own messy problems…” At this point my emotions came out, everything she was saying was true.
“Hey…” y/n thought I was speaking to her as I leaned to her stomach. But, I was taking to our baby. “I know we might’ve been a little bit broken, but we aren’t now. We won’t be, not with you. With you we’ll be whole, because we love you.” I said choking up as I patted y/n’s stomach. The connection along with my heart grew fives bigger isn’t sly in that moment, as if it was even possible to have this infinite love for someone I didn’t know.
y/n started to cry, “Dan, you might not be broken. But what about me? What if I can’t handle it? What if I’m going to be like my parents? What if I’m going to be a bad mother?”
“Hey hey hey- shhhh. You won’t, I know that for a fact. You’re so good with kids and you know what not to do.” I tried to calm her while I rubbed the small bump, that was now mine. While I took care of y/n, I did think about it, these two messed up humans were going to belong to this wonderful life.

The pregnancy was weird and strained, but I tried to keep y/n as relaxed as possible because stress wasn’t good for the baby. The baby ended up being perfect and healthy, we’ve been home for around 2 weeks now with and y/n was taking a well deserved nap. She was an absolute trooper and she clung on to me so tight, but the pain and tiredness in her eyes were strong enough to cut me.

*Another Flashback*
“Dan!” She screamed grimacing back and instantly clenching her her body to try and minimize the pain.
“y/n?!” I ran into the lounge and watched her breath heavily in deep pain as she instinctively ran her hand up and down her large stomach.
“I can’t breath— I think I’m going in,” She cried out looking down and closing her eyes in tightened expression.
I cut her off immediately, “Save your breath baby, shhh. We’re going to the hospital right now.” I picked her up instantly, threw on her shoes, coat, grabbing the bag and our personal belongings. The car ride was something I’d like to block out, so many tears. Silent, weeping and gripping on to me for dear life tears because it even hurt her to breath in order to make a sound.
The hospital was the longest night of both of our lives, but hers was physically grueling and painful. Her water broke conveniently at the hospital room, but that was about the easiest thing about the whole process.
“I love you.” I told her for the 400th time it seemed like, gently moving her hairs out mixed in with beads of sweat. y/n could barely even make eye contact with me, but she kept sobbing from the “absolute pure awful pain” and crying at everyone, rightly so.
The first few intervals weren’t so bad, but after that everything grew stronger and so did her cries for help. The phrase could haunt me for the rest of my life, “Make it it stop please! Please!”
“I can’t sweet, but it will all be eventually over.” I kissed her forehead and she glared at me, muttering pained profanities under her breath while dearly holding onto my hand.
“Hey, is the pain lessening for now?” I look at her pregnant body laying in a hospital bed with a gown on. She just nods her head and groans looking at her stomach.
“For the time being.” Another harsh and pained moan hits her but it subsides after a little while. y/n then looks up at me with the most terrified look and I’m petrified trying to remain calm.
“What if I mess up? Ah, frick!” I watch y/n squirm in bed as it looks like she’s being stabbed by her side. I tighten my grab on her hand, while she lets out a small yawn because she’s too tired at this point.
“I’m scared, Dan.” y/n manages to mutter out, for exhaustion and agony soared through her body.
“I know, but we’re gonna get through this. I love you.” I said kissing her sweaty and flushed face.
The contractions all got stronger and then it was series of me talking her through and lots of breathing in between the waterworks.
The doctor came in following a nurse and then it was time.
“We are ready for you to push.” He said.
The pushing was terrifying and just when I thought she wouldn’t be able to scream after all those hours, I was amazed she could and this time even louder. It must have been that painful, no scratch that it was the painful.
“I can’t do this.” y/n said in between, tears all over her face and her voice raspy.
y/n cried while she arched her back up. It felt like we were in the freaking hospital room forever.
“Yes, you can. I believe in you.” I said attempting to concentrate.
I tried to support her as best as I could, kisses, back rubs, massages, and telling her to pull through.
“It hurts so much Dan. It just hurts so—-AHHHH,” another wave of contraction and pain hit her once again. I could see the pain growing and directly watering her eyes, while I just held onto her. Watching her squirm and weep in pain made me want to die. I hated seeing her like that, suffering and scared. She was crying so much and the actual pushing part was hell for her. I absolutely already loathed the thought of y/n being in any pain, but then… To watch the person I love screaming in at the highest peak of hurting in her life was infinitely gut-wrenching. And I couldn’t even do anything to stop it.
Yet now, here I was holding the newborn baby girl in my arms. This baby that was mine and y/n’s. The life we both contributed and created was in my hands. I never saw anything more perfect. How could two people like us belong to something so beautiful? The little life that already had my brunette hair, ear and nose. She had y/n’s beautiful eyes and mouth. This was our child, you could just see it. Except she was pure and new, everything good in the world. y/b/n might of had her mother’s eyes, but y/b/n didn’t see the pain y/n had seen. She might of had my ears, but y/b/n hadn’t heard what I have. And I never plan on having her experiencing those things. I’ll protect y/b/n forever. Who knew such a life could come from such a drunken desirable night?
I was imagining this, I had to be. It couldn’t be real. It was something that only happened in my wildest dreams and imagination. But it was reality. This was my life. I had the girl I loved and our daughter, at the moment who were both resting peacefully. First, I had y/n who was incredible and who I loved so much. She was who I was alone with, she was the one who gave me hope. The girl who delivered my child. Why did I ever even fuss about having baby with her? My life couldn’t be clearer in this moment. All this time we spent alone, thinking we could not belong to something so damn beautiful. But we could and we did.

Just; C.H. 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

“Oh no. What happened?” Sherilyn opens the door to her dorm and freezes in her spot, staring at my angry, seemingly permanent scowl before letting her gaze slip over my attire, the same she had dressed me in last night before leaving. She steps aside without another word and I shuffle inside, already pushing the dress back down my hips before I turn around with my arm covering my breasts as much as I can muster. “Lend me something please?”

Sherilyn nods her head and digs in her closet for a simple shirt and a pair of her old jeans, my body seeming to lose a bit of the tension when I’m back in my somewhat normal attire.
“You’re going to have to talk sometime, Y/n.” Sherilyn sits down on her bed, crossing her legs beneath her body as she fiddles with her finger nails. I’m sure she’s nervous because it was quite normal for me to end up at her door with mascara running down my face, she had never seen me so expressionless. I had enough time while walking here to calm down but seeing my friend made it all boil up at once.

“I slept with Calum.” A gasp leaves Sherilyn’s lips and I roll my eyes. Wasn’t that sort of the inevitable? I knew one day I’d succumb to his charm, and somehow I’m glad it was now. Gives me the summer to get over myself.

“It was – it was – fucking hell it was so good I didn’t even know it could be that good.” I yell, throwing my hands in the air and dropping down onto the floor before burying my face in my knees, my arms thrown around them.

“Then what’s the problem? Sounds like you had the night of your life, with your crush. I would be thrilled.” Sherilyn carefully asks, the tone of her voice indicating she wasn’t sure what the problem with this whole ordeal was.

“I expected him to be at least a bit sophisticated. Instead of fucking throwing me out like I’m a bubble gum wrapper. ‘Maybe you should leave, Ash likes to wake up early’. God damn it I hate my life!” I know that I’ve started rambling and Sherilyn just lets me, trying to get all of my anger out of my system before we try to figure out a game plan to follow from now on.

“Don’t tell me he –“
“Oh yes, he offered to call me later. I feel like one of the cheap slags of my brother.” I shudder at the thought of the girls sniffing while walking downstairs, their walk of shame becoming ten times as worse when she realized my mum and dad were probably in the kitchen waiting for their kids to join them for breakfast.

“It’s not like I can just ignore him and get on with my life. I have to tutor Luke in what? Four hours? I’ll be in that damn house over and over again for the rest of summer.” I groan, I predicted this tutoring would bite me in the ass one way or another, I just didn’t realise it would happen so soon.
“Can’t you just tell Luke you’re not up for it anymore?”

“He’s actually quite a nice guy. I don’t want him to fail. If I can kick Calum off of the stairs in the meantime though…” I chuckle dryly and Sherilyn lets out something that resembles a laugh as well.
“I’ll think of something, Y/n. Don’t worry.”

“Great. Then I’m heading home for a shower and a nap. I feel absolutely disgusting.”


“But why? I thought you didn’t mind coming over.” Luke mumbles into the receiver, somehow, and seemingly for no apparent reason at all, disappointment evident in his tone. I let a loud sigh pass my lips, pinching the bridge of my nose as I lean against the kitchen counter.
“I’d just rather have you here to study, Luke. Less distraction.” I nod my head at my little white lie. He wouldn’t be distracted that much, but I would.

“If that’s really what you want. The boys were wondering about you though. You didn’t sleep in Derek’s bed, did you?” I merely hum in return, not sure what to answer my new blonde friend. “We’re friends for a few days and you’re already keeping shit from me, auwch Y/n. Hurts.” Luke continues and I know he hopes that I’m going to crack, but I won’t over the phone. I’m sure once he’s here and he keeps asking I’ll let something slip, mainly because I know myself, but then it will be his problem of how to deal with such sort of information.
“So I’ll see you in a few, yeah?” I end the conversation swiftly and let my phone drop onto the marble countertop, groaning loudly as I smack my forehead with my flattened out palm.

“That face tells me you made one too many mistakes last night.” Rosalee laughs as she pushes her sunglasses back up on her head, an amused smirk on her lips as she stares at my slumped frame. “Oh, shut up.”
“You really did, didn’t you? Get dressed, we’re going to the beach. It’ll do you good.” She points to my shorts and oversized plain black t-shirt, my eyes following her motion.

“As much as I want to, I can’t. Luke’s coming over.” I roll my eyes, my head disappearing in the fridge for a beer. I haven’t drunk this much since my first year of college and I loathed the fact that I needed that to get through the day.
“Did you and Luke - ?” She doesn’t finish her question but my widened eyes are answer enough. Rosalee starts laughing as she slides her sunglasses back on her nose.

“He’s cute, but I didn’t figure him as your type.” I nod my head as I bring the can back to my lips. “So, is Y/n tagging along?” Linda asks as she appears in the kitchen, large duffel bag filled with toys and snacks for their day at the beach.
“Miss has to tutor.” Rosalee shakes her head and I scoff. It wasn’t as if I chose to do this every day. I figured that after a few days he’d advice for us to meet like once a week. But I think he really likes a study buddy and I regret my life choices right now.

“Cancel that bitch, come on Y/n.” Linda rolls her eyes. I know she’s already fed up with me but I can’t just bail on Luke every time my own ‘frat’ wants to hang out. “Sorry Lin.”
“Unbelievable. We’ll see you tomorrow, we’re having a camp fire and staying at a local hostel afterwards. Bye Y/n.” Rosalee and Linda wave as they disappear from my sight and Megan appears only moments after, greeting me before jogging after the girls.

It doesn’t take Luke long to arrive, his large blue eyes wandering around the place as if he had never seen a dorm before. “You girls are messier than I thought.”
This draws a loud, boisterous laugh from my lips as I lean against the wall, my arms crossed over my chest as I observe Luke’s wandering eyes.
“Cleanliness is a myth, Luke. I think I might be ten times as messy as your whole frat together.”

“Where did you sleep last night?” Luke suddenly questions, turning on his heel to stare me down. I feel my cheeks redden as I tense up under his strong gaze, trying to remain eye contact but wavering after a few moments.
“I did stay at Derek’s, really.”

“Come on Y/n, his room was so messy you could’ve never slept there. It was disgusting. Did you walk home?” I shake my head. I’m not sure if I should be honest with Luke. He was so friendly these last couple of days, confiding in me with some of his secrets he didn’t think the boys would understand, but I would. Asking advice on how to surprise his girl with a nice date because they were reaching their six-month anniversary. But, Calum was Luke’s best mate.

“Did you - ?” Luke stops his sentence and his eyebrows furrow, and I’m not quite sure what he’s implying right now. I walk over to the sofa in our open spaced living room, dropping down as a loud sigh passes my lips. “If you’re implying I might have stayed with someone else, then yes.”

Luke is quiet. Maybe a bit too quiet. The same confused look is on his face, eyes turned into slits as he tries to piece the puzzle together. All of a sudden his eyes widen and his mouth drops. “You’re – you left this morning didn’t you? You had an argument with Calum?”
“If you’d call that an argument.” I humourlessly chuckle, rolling my eyes as I let my back hit the plush cushioning of the sofa.

Luke starts laughing loudly, clutching his stomach as he drops on the sofa as well, on the other side. “You marked him pretty good, Y/n. Damn it. He didn’t want to tell us who he slept with.” I laugh along with him, remembering the markings down his chest, sending another shiver of want down my spine.
“But how – uh why – I mean do you have a thing for Calum?”
My cheeks redden almost immediately and Luke’s confused, yet amused grin turns into a frown, sympathy taking over his features when he sees my non-verbal reaction.
“This has to be kept between us, Luke. Seriously. You already know more than my best friend.”

“I’m flattered.” Luke winks as he presses his flat hand against his chest, near his heart, before dropping it back in his lap again. “I’m not joking. I don’t even know if I regret this or not.”
“You know Calum is uh – how do I say this nicely,” Luke chuckles dryly, scratching the back of his neck before he continues, “kind of a ladies’ man?”
I sigh and think back to the advice my brother had thrown my way before I left for college two years ago.
“He is the kind of frat boy my brother warned me about.”

Part 9

Get You Home

Request: Are you familiar with the song Partition by Beyonce? I’m thinking of requesting something based on that song.


“Y'ready to go yet?” Roman mumbled into my ear as the clock struck past midnight.

“Now? I think the party’s just getting started-”

“Really?” he frowned and gazed around the room. “Babe, I think it’s just finishing-”

“Shut up, just smile and see it through,” I laughed and pushed him away gently.

It wasn’t particularly close to the finish line, but it might as well have been. It was the afterparty for the ESPN awards; too refined, and slightly pretentious for our taste.

“Please?” he mumbled again. “We can get our own party started.”

“Mhhh-mmh,” I shook my head and sipped my wine to hide my shy smile.

“You sure baby? I know you’ll like this party,” his voice was lower. It was his seduction voice, I hated it, his secret weapon and it worked its spell on me magnificently.

“Not interested, I wanna stay and eat canapés and drink more wine.”

I detested the canapes.

“Mhhh, let’s remedy that,” he continued. The man was relentless when he wanted something. “You wouldn’t trade that for me touching you all over?” as he said that, his hand crept under my deep-plunging neck dress, rubbing against my breast.

“Stop, people will see,” I cowered inwardly.

“Maybe it’ll save them from the boredom…” his hand slipped out, it might as well have stayed because now my nipples were hard visibly through the silk fabric. “I can go down on you; imagine that baby, my tongue trailing slowly against your wet lips, and you’ll shiver against me. And just to up up the ante, I’ll insert a finger or two, massaging your spot whilst circling your clit with my tongue. That’ll drive you wild wont it? Then you’ll pull on my hair and hold me against you until you find your release,”

“Stop,” I moaned unintentionally.

“Actually no, I won’t let you cum. I’ll pull away right when you’re on the edge, and watch that face you pull when you’re frustrated. Then I’ll-”

“Roman, please,” I moaned unashamedly at this point. Fuck whoever could hear; he was right, they could do with the entertainment.

“Just say yes, we can go right now, y'know the car’s already waiting. Say the word, I’m yours.”

I hesitated, quickly scanning the room for no apparent reason, almost as if seeking confirmation. And it was enough. I turned to him and nodded.

“Say yes,” he reiterated.


He took my glass out of my hand and placed it on a passing-by waitress’s tray, taking my own into his and he helped me up. We scurried through the crowds, with our goal in mind.

“Aye Roman, was just looking for you man,” his wrestling peer, Xavier Woods stopped us as we almost made it to the door.

“What’s up?”

“We’re about to do shots and play beer pong on the terrace, y'all in?”

“I can’t man,” Roman sighed and gestured with his extended arm to me behind him. “The lady wants to go home.”

How the heck was he using me as a scapegoat when this was his idea?

“What-?” I voiced.

“Shhh, baby,”

Xavier frowned momentarily and then perked up, mischief firing his eyes. “Oh, eeww, a'ight, man…okay…it’s like that huh?”

“Sorry. She comes first baby,” Roman winked at him and started pulling me away towards the elevators.


We hadn’t really been successful in holding out til we got home. Once we got in our chauffeured car, we didn’t realise how hungry we were for each other until our hands were all over each other uncontrollably. Roman had slammed me against the inside of the door and kissed me, his hands creeping into my dress and massaging my breasts. I moaned into his mouth and trailed my hand down his body and felt him budging through his dress pants.

We didn’t even realise how we looked until the chauffeur rolled up the partition, blasting music on. Roman and I paused from our kiss and started giggling, before resuming.

Now free and comfortable in our enclosed and private space, he slipped my thin dress straps down my shoulders and released my breasts, sucking them into his mouth one by one. They felt so tender because of how turned on I was. So any slight contact, drove me insane, especially when he flicked his tongue against the swollen buds. I held his head in place, enjoying the chills it sent down my entire body.

He returned his attention back to my mouth whilst working on his frustration as he gyrated against me through my whisper-thin fabric, it felt sensational. I clutched his large arms until he began pushing my dress up and it pooled in my mid-section; detached from shoulders.

He stopped there and slid his trouser zip down, and I couldn’t resist the urge to take him in my mouth. I pushed him back and got on my knees, in that damn tight space and rubbed his thick shaft, his tip glistening, ready to be sucked on. I took him in, licking the bulbous head first and I swear he trembled. To gain some kinda control, my hair which had been nicely done for the event, now ran lose and wild caught in between his fists. He used my hair as leverage to guide himself in and out of my mouth. All the while his eyes never left mine and mine his; it amplified the satisfaction he always said. It worked both ways because I got off on knowing how much I pleased him. How a swirl of my tongue could just make him -

“Sonofabitch,” he whimpered as he released his liquid into my mouth.

I made a suction with my cheeks and watched him lose control again, but this time he pulled out, squirting his juices all over me. All over my dress.

“Fuck, that’s a Miu Miu.” I told him, still on my knees.

“Oh baby,” he clicked his tongue sympathetically. At least I thought before he snapped the straps, tearing them off the dress. I gasped in shock. “We’ll get another one.”

“You’re such a dick,”

“Yeah,” he sighed and picked me up and threw me roughly onto the leather seats. He slid my panties to the side and entered me.

“But you love my dick,” he whispered.

Our chests heaved for breath and the simultaneous satisfaction; his of being engulfed by my warm walls and mine, being full and satiated.

“Holy shit,” he groaned, head buried in my chest.

“Is this what you wanted?” I moaned, my eyes trained on him, unfaltering as he picked up pace.

He didn’t answer, instead he pulled out and slid his member up and down my slippery lips, to spread the wetness. Then he reinsert himself in me, in one motion, then initiates a pattern of deep rough thrusts. Our bodies crashed against each other, it was poetic, melodic. He enjoyed the way my breasts bounce up and down, he always does. He licked his lips at the sight, occassionally closing his eyes.

“You close?” He quizzed, feeling my walls contract against his shaft.

I was close but not ready yet. I vocalised it and he snapped his hips, intentionally beckoning my orgasm. I met him thrust for thrust with each roll of my hips.

“Roman,” I started to gasp, desperately drawing in air as I felt my stomach knot and twist from the build up.


“Ahhh, fuck,” I said, arching my back, my chest crushing into his.

His arm wrapped around the dip on my back and pulled me up, so I was leaning against the door with his strong arm holding us together as he thrusted into me.

“Is this what you wanted?” He asked, I looked at him, that dirty smirk on his face informed me that he was mocking me. “Come with me,” he whispered, nibbling on my neck.

I felt so determined to oblige at his behest, and just as well, my knees felt weak, and then, just then–

“Roman…” I whimpered, at the feeling of being empty, his thick shaft withdrawn from me.

He’d pulled out right at the height. His eyes darkened as he scrutinised me.

“What’s wrong baby?” His gentle and warm tone didn’t match his dark sinister look.

“What are you doing?”

“I told you baby, didn’t I?” He squinted, as if trying to recall if he actually did.

“Fucking idiot,”

“Play nice, you might actually get what you want. Might,”

“Fuck you,” I rolled my eyes and puffed at the frustration of being left in mid-air, near the crescendo. “I’ll do it myself,”

And I started touching myself, furiously rubbing on my clit and he seemed more turned on so he didn’t argue. He just watched. When I went further in, fingers in my pussy, he failed at supressing a groan, watched nonetheless as he started playing with himself.

My walls started clenching around my fingers, and I winced, biting my lower lip.
His breathing came out deeper, and finally having watched enough of me, he came back into my personal space and pushed my hand aside.

“Let me baby,” he pushed into me and sucked on my fingers, one by one. I wasn’t quite sure what I was more turned on by; having him back inside me or the way he licked my juices off.

“Don’t play with me,” I warned him as he snapped his hips faster this time.

“I wont,” he said before holding my legs up so he could plunge in deeper.

“I swear Roman, if you stop again-” I stopped, not concerntrating enough to finish my sentence.

“Stop talking,” he grunted. His eyes squeezed shut, and I felt so desperate to hold him, so I clenched his biceps, loving how they contracted with every thrust.

“Mhhhh,” I moaned.

A few more thrusts and a rub on my clit, we came apart collectively.

My body thrashed underneath his, but his weight alone managed to keep me in place. My hands relaxed onto his back, but we remained locked together.

“So…regret leaving the party?” he asked after our bodies relaxed, moulding into each other.

“Weeeeeell, yes, you didn’t go down on me like you promised.”

He tampered with my hair and kissed me briefly. “That’s not a problem, we can do that right now.”

“Yes, please.”

“I like how fast that word came out this time,” he laughed and pulled out slowly, we both moaned in dismay as he did.

As he began to lower himself, tracing my body with kisses - the car started to slow down and I sat up on my elbows and looked out of the window. Just my luck.

“Sorry baby, gotta wait til we get in the house.”

“No fair,” I said fixing my dress. He zipped himself up. “We look like a fucking tragedy,”

“No, I look cute, speak for yourself.” he hit back with a lopsided smile.

“Someone lied to you. Do you think he’ll mind driving a few blocks whilst finish up?” I asked seriously.

“Baby,” Roman laughed. “No he won’t, let the man go home. I’m sure he’d love to go fuck his wife now after hearing us for twenty minutes-”

“He could hear us?” I panicked.

“Whoa, kidding, the partition’s soundproof, relax.”

Within seconds, the chauffeur opened the back door.

“Thanks Sven,” Roman said climbing out first, ever the gentleman he held out his hand for me.

I took it, holding up my now strapless dress up with the other. Sven noticed as I climbed out, but out of respect he looked away as if oblivious.

“Have a good evening,” I said unnecessarily to Sven as he shut the door; it was 1am now.

“Thanks, you too,” he called out. “Enjoy the afterparty.”

I froze, Roman turned around to him, laughing, gesturing something to him whilst I was too shy to meet his gaze. I looked at Roman, stifling a giggle as we walked towards the house.

Once we got in, he took my hand off my dress and it fell immediately to the floor.

“You were really overdressed anyway,” he nibbled on my neck and carried me to the table, planting me on the cold surface.

“Aaahh yes,” I squealed blissfully as he fulfilled his promise; his lips and tongue exploring my slick opening.

Heck, it was one hell of a night. And judging by his enthusiasm, the party was just getting started.


Calum Hood AU Imagine

Warnings: Smut




               “Pretty please?”

               “I said no.”

               “Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

Keep reading

Just; C.H. 13

“What has gotten you so happy nowadays?” Sherilyn smirks as she wipes the counter of the diner she had gotten a summer job at, an eyebrow quirked at me as I hum along to the radio softly playing through the almost empty diner, fingers tapping along to the tune.

“Can’t I be in a good mood?” I chuckle, flicking a crumb of whatever her way that has been laying to my right since I arrived here. I had been bored out of my mind, occupying myself by harassing Sherilyn at work for the past three hours. “When are you off?”

“Normally your good moods don’t last so long. Haven’t heard your mum in a while, have you?” Now it’s Sherilyn turn to laugh loudly, the towel she’d been wiping the counter with clutched within her fist before I punch her in the arm. “For that matter, no I haven’t. Might have something to do with it.” I shrug my shoulders, grinning at Sherilyn while I shake my head. “In an hour, by the way.”

I hum in response and lift my empty beer glass towards her. “Then fill me up again.”
“I haven’t heard from your tutoring with Luke or Calum in ages. What’s up with that?” Sherilyn states as she slides the now full beer my way, wiping her hands on the dish towel, lingering near my seated frame. The place was empty besides an elderly couple in the back and they were still enjoying their meal so wouldn’t be a bother for a while.

“Tutoring is going fine; I think he can pass if he keeps up the effort. Luke and I actually talked about Calum over a week ago after that night out with the boys.” My pointer finger is slowly dragging along the rim of the glass, eyes cast to the yellowish golden liquid instead of on my mate.
“I didn’t know there was stuff to discuss to begin with. Come on, give me some juice.” Sherilyn suddenly plops onto the counter, upper body resting on her crossed arms as she grins in my direction. I can’t help but reciprocate with a chuckle of my own, leaning back as my hands grip the side of the counter.

“Cal and I might have sort of almost kissed at the club that night, and he saw that. He wanted to know what we were.” I decide to give her the short version, leaving out the doubt and conflict battling within me for the past two weeks.

“And what are you exactly, Y/n?” Sherilyn smirks, batting her eyelashes towards me. “Friends, still.”
I notice the eye roll I’m receiving, everyone in a ten-meter radius probably had seen that one.

“It gets awkward-er. Listen,” I laugh, Sherilyn immediately shutting up as her eyes widen. “Is that possible?” I widen my eyes and slowly nod my head before squeezing my eyes closed.
“Luke forced Calum and I to talk about what’s going on. We didn’t really, uh, talk.”

Sherilyn doesn’t say anything but her eyes are not begging, more like demanding me to continue. “He’s a great kisser. I kind of forgot to pay attention to that the first time we uh – “ I look over my shoulder to the elderly couple to see if they were still preoccupied and I breathe out when I see them laugh to themselves, their plates cleared.

“You’re unbelievable,” Sherilyn laughs, her head shaking vigorously as she fills my beer up again without another word from me, sliding the newly full glass back my way. I grant her with a bright, thankful grin as I bring the glass to my lips.
“So you’re dating now, right?”

“Even if I wanted to, it would never happen. He made it clear he wanted to be my friends and he was the one to stop our make-out because friends don’t do such things… And Calum doesn’t date,” I end the conversation there, shrugging my shoulders as I feel my tongue involuntarily dart out to lick my bottom lip. “You didn’t either, Y/n.” Sherilyn raises her eyebrow, untying her apron from around her waist as she already walks to disappear into the back. “I’ll be out in a second, wait here.”

“Have you heard from Sarah at all lately?” I groan as I make a U-turn, swerving onto the parking lot of my own frat, Sherilyn clinging onto the door handle for dear life.

“I haven’t. But isn’t it always like this? She’s probably busy with a summer fling and we’ll have to comfort her as soon as she’s back here.” Sherilyn sighs, probably rolling her eyes behind her sunglasses as she gets out of my car. Sherilyn wasn’t too off, it happened. On multiple occasions. Sometimes she’d even just crush on some guy in one of her classes at the beginning of the semester and by December she’d be a crying mess because the guy hadn’t noticed her yet.

Sarah was a very romantic and needing person and it sometimes just clashed with Sher and I. Sherilyn did date, she believed there was one true person for everyone, but she still could find herself in my point of not wanting to date anymore because the energy you put in is never the energy you receive.

Sherilyn hadn’t been with anyone in a while after a nasty break up with her former boyfriend Kyle. I wanted to smack that guy’s face in but Sarah had convinced me otherwise right when I was about to pay him a visit.
“It may be horrible for us to think that way, you know.” I breathe, pushing past my front door. I hear collision of pots and pans in the kitchen and make a right turn, motioning Sher to follow me as I see Linda and Rosalee in the kitchen, bickering.

“What’s going on here?” I raise an eyebrow, opening the fridge and pushing a can of coke in Sherilyn’s awaiting hands in the meantime.
“We wanted to throw a party tonight and are trying some cocktails. Rosalee and I just don’t seem to agree.” Linda glares at Rosalee, who reciprocates with an obvious, over exaggerated eye roll.

“Well you definitely don’t need pans for a cocktail.” Sherilyn laughs as she brings the can to her lips, a snort leaving my own as I slide into one of the chairs.
“Oh wise ass shut up. I know that.” Linda wavering the pan in our direction and I grin at Sherilyn who drops right in front of me. “When is this so called party we’re apparently throwing?”

“Tonight, of course. You invite your man toys if you want, although I’m sure they’ll show up anyway.” Rosalee winks at me and I know she’s referring to Calum and Luke and I can’t answer with anything else than a loud, booming laugh. “Bitch.”

“Sher, you can stay if you want. Meg’s out of town for the rest of the week anyway.” Linda points out as she drops the pan back into the cabinet, grabbing two bottles of wine out of the cabinet as she comes back up. “What can we do with this?”

“Make some sangria, that’s wine based if I’m not mistaken. Don’t shoot me if I’m wrong.” I shrug my shoulders, raising to my feet as I nod my head at Sher to follow me. “Well if we’re partying, I’m going for a hot shower. You can lend something of mine, let’s go.” I wave to a snickering Linda and Rosalee as I push Sherilyn in front of me up the stairs.

“To come back to the conversation, we might have been bad friends by not calling her either.” Sherilyn sighs as she reaches the end of the stairs, stopping and turning to her side so I can pass her easily and push myself through my half open bed room door.
“It’s more like I don’t want to interrupt her. I wouldn’t appreciate it if I were on holiday and you’d be phoning me every five minutes.”

“Guess you’re right.” Sherilyn breathes, shaking her head slightly as her head disappears into my closet for an outfit for tonight. “Since when am I not?” I laugh as I throw a towel over my shoulder, phone in hand to text the boys of the plans tonight.


The party is already in full swing, music blasting from the speakers Rosalee and Linda had dragged out of the basement only an hour prior. I’m still laying on my bed, my dress riled up near my hips as I look at Sherilyn doing her makeup. She’s lightly dabbing lipstick along her lips, puckering them in the mirror before turning towards me.

“Sorry I took so long. Glad you’re still awake though.” Sherilyn chuckles as she perfects her hair, standing to her feet and showing me her finished look, body con dress covering her hips.
“Won’t be long ‘til I – zzzzz.” I fake snoring loudly, chuckling after as I crawl out of my bed and onto my feet. I pull on the flowy part of my dress, waving my hips around a bit to get the creases to lessen and step into my heels.

“Will Ashton be here?” Sherilyn question as I hold her hand while she steps into her heels. I raise my eyebrows, a comical grin on my lips. “I didn’t know you had the hots for our Ash.”
The blush immediately crawls onto her cheeks as she averts her gaze, but not before slapping my biceps, the smack resonating through my room.

“I mean like, I get it. He’s cute. But he’s also a frat boy, you realise that, right?” I chuckle and duck away when she tries to slap me again. When we started college she called me a lunatic for joining one and for immediately crushing on one of them. I realize that there are a lot of comedies and other genres that portray frat house like either a bunch of murderous bitches or guys that sleep with anything that has a heartbeat, but I was sure – and now I of course know – that it isn’t really true. The murderous bitches part at least.

“Don’t be like this, I don’t torture you with Calum either.” Sher rolls her eyes and I scoff hoarsely, shaking my head as I step closer to the door. “I only had to listen to your lame ass jokes for almost two years. But don’t worry, I’ll put in a good word for you.” I wink and I hope she knows I’m sincere. If there’s any guy I know that I’d trust to not completely stomp on my friend’s heart like some craze-dazed elephant, it would’ve been Ashton.

“Do you think they’re here already?” Sherilyn questions as she walks behind me down the stairs, our bodies manoeuvring between people making out or just slumping against the wall. “Probably, it’s almost midnight and I know Michael likes to be drunk before that.” I laugh, pressing my hands against the wall to steady myself, legs wobbling as I take the last step down. I immediately hear Michael’s gibberish laughter and turn to my right, spotting the four boys almost at an instant. “See.”

“Y/n! Finally!” Luke laughs as he throws his arm around my shoulder, hauling me against his chest. “And Sherilyn, of course.” Ashton winks and I can see Sher flutter her eyelids and almost visibly swoon. My gaze lands on Calum, who is already staring at me through his lashes. We hadn’t really had a full conversation since the last time I had seen him, where we had – instead of talking – made out for the majority of the time. Things weren’t awkward, but my hormones were going berserk and I didn’t know how I felt about it either. I had tried to, as every girl does, overanalyse the situation but came up as good as empty handed.

Calum subtlety winks and I can’t help but smile wide and bright, muffling the grin by bringing my hand to my mouth. I throw my arm around Luke’s waist, squeezing him against my much smaller frame, Luke shrieking in response.
“Tell me. How bad is the sangria?

Better In Time 6

Finally! It’s here and I’m sorry for the wait. Maybe 2 more parts and it’ll be over. I really want to share the ending and tbh it doesn’t seem like it’s really going anywhere. Hopefully you guys enjoy.

1 2 3 4 5 


They were everywhere.

Being a part of the boys lives was tough sometimes because people always were on the look out for me or the boys when they had the chance. Today, it was the biggest bump in the road I’d experienced since being friends with them. Some fans spotted Michael and I in LA, more specifically, the kiss we shared underneath the lamp posts. They had spread through Twitter, people were tagging Michael and I on Instagram, and post after post was nothing but negativity towards both of us. But more for me. Some say I forced Michael into the kiss because I’m a homie hopper, others say I’m just a slut and want the boys all to myself.

How could you! My own best friend and girlfriend kissing! Did you think I was stupid and you’d get away with this? Jesus Y/N what were you thinking!

I knew in this moment, this is when things change for good. Nothing of what happened the first time, would have a chance of happening again. It was bound to be worst.

You betrayed me! I give everything I have to you, and you throw it all away for someone else who, by the way, could and would never treat you the way I do!

Yeah, that’s real nice coming from the boy who’s been boning his front bands drummer for months!” His end of the phone ran silent, so silent that I could hear that distant annoying ring in the air. I heard a shallow breathe and then a small cry. Calum was never one to cry, over anything. Not for death, not for life, not for heartbreak. He only cried when it was something that struck a chord in him like his fans, his family, his bandmates…and me. I let out a shaky sigh before continuing.

Michael told me Calum. Why…you talk about giving everything but I literally gave you all I had. After hearing that, I don’t have anything or anyone to fall back on. How could you talk so highly of yourself being the angel of our relationship when you were the one betraying me.” I spat. How dare he? He has no right to be putting himself on a pedestal when he was banging his new lover in any space big enough. I was disgusted at his sense of pride.

I’m flying back to you guys with Michael tonight. I’m seeing you there and we’re talking this out and that’s final.” He laughed a solid laugh and then the background went silent before he spoke.

Oh no you’re not. I don’t want to see any part of you right now. I don’t see you, I don’t want to be around you, I don’t want to even hear you voice anymore!

Well too fucking bad Calum, I’m coming back. We need to talk whether you like it or not if you want to fix us.

Well I don’t. And we can’t after what you did.” and the sound of two beeps indicating the call ended rang. It felt like a bullet shot through my chest and I was paralyzed. My body, without even thinking, sank into the couch behind me, and I was brought my knees up to my face, letting all the tears fall where they may. The second time around, and I still was not the girl Calum truly wanted to spend his life with. After fixing everything, after trusting him, after giving him all the love someone could ever want and hope for in life, and I still wasn’t enough. What made the tears fall faster was the gut wrenching reality that Calum and I were maybe just…not meant to be. If it didn’t work out a second time, then maybe it was never meant to work out at all. I felt a pair of arms grab me up off of the couch and slide into their arms. His chin laid on my head rubbing my back as I continued to let out hard and short sobs in his chest.

“Once we get back home everything will be okay. He’s just in shock and angry, same as you. Once you guys see each other it’s going to get better.”

“No Michael it’s not! He doesn’t want to see me! He doesn’t want any part of me anymore! God, I get to redo this a second time with him and it blows up in my face again, I’m such an idiot!” I whispered the last part softer as my own realization, but even Michael could hear it.

“What? A second time? What are you talking about?”


“Nothing nothing I’m just babbling. Look Michael, Calum is furious with me. I can’t face him the way I am right now. He’ll tower over me, and I’ll cave in just like I always do and fall at his feet asking for forgiveness when it’s him who should be begging for it!” I started pacing the room, becoming aware that our flight was in 2 hours and that would mean facing my unfaithful boyfriend again. And after hearing the tight anger in his voice, I definitely was scared to.

“Ok ok ok. Then we won’t go see Calum. We could go to a different hotel and you don’t have to go to our concert tonight. Just come back with me, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I left you here in a sad ball of tears. I need to make sure you’re okay.” I sighed as he grab my hand, and I tugged it back holding in tears as I looked away.

“Nothing can happen between you know that right?” I said in a low voice, becoming choked up again. “I love Calum, your best friend. And I wouldn’t give him up for anything or anyone, even someone who could treat me better right now. That’s just how love works. You don’t get to pick and chose Michael, it just happens.”

“I know because it happened with you.” He played with a loose thread on his jean jacket avoiding eye contact. “I didn’t get to choose to look at you whenever you walked into a room, or smile every time you laughed, or have a fire burn in my heart when you hug me. It all just happened. I didn’t get to choose to fall in love with somebody who was already in love with someone else.” I swallowed trying to find anything more interesting to take my mind away from his uncomfortable situation. I shook my duffle bag a few times making a shuffle noise, and hoisted it over my shoulder.

“Let’s get to our plane.”

After landing and getting to our hotel, Michael immediately had to leave for soundcheck. I was left with some books I brought, my laptop, and a few snacks we picked up at a near by 7-11 since  he was bound to be gone for a good 6 hours and I didn’t had to guts to go outside for anything knowing I could bump into Calum at any time.

A book with propped up on my chest with my hair all over my face, I heard the door click open and looked to find a blonde haired sweaty boy. He ran a hand through his hair before smiling at me and sitting beside me on the bed I was sleeping on. I drew circles on the comforter as I continued to read, and I slammed my book down before looking at him.

“Ok Michael, what’s up. You want something from me, so what is it?” I asked with a slight serious tone.

He laughed nervously, and avoided eye contact again. “W-what are you talking about? Maybe I was just sad because you missed a great show tonight starring your best friends and I wanted to be near you.” I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders, picking up my book again, but then hearing him whine and get up from the bed.

“Ok ok, I wanted to see if you’d come to a party with me and the guys tonight because you look like a total kill joy right now.” He talked fast, and pointed at my book referring to me being a ‘kill joy’. I gasped and threw my book at him, he shielded himself with his arms but I could hear the impact.

“By boys you mean…” I gulped.

“Yeah…But you won’t even see him! I promise. There’s so may people going to this thing, there’s no way that if you stay near me you’ll see him. It’s a big place too, so please? Just for a few hours and if you’re really having a bad time then we can leave.” He pleaded with clasped hands, and I huffed before going over to my bag to grab another book.

“Nope, sorry Michael. Not a chance. And plus, I don’t even have anything to wear to a party.” And just as I grabbed out a book, a piece of fabric came out with it, and flopped onto the floor. A black, sparkly over the shoulder dress popped out, and Michael gave me a stern look and cocked his head to the piece of clothing.

“T-That’s not suppose to be there.” I quickly scrambled to pick it up and shove it in my bag again but he beat me to it, holding it high above his head. My shoulders slumped and I accepted defeat. He smirked at me before throwing it in my face.

“Get ready Cinderella.”

The party was already filled with drunk people with red cups trailing every inch of the house, and even clothing pieces were flung over railings and scattered around the huge living room and stairs. It was very apparent many people were getting it on. I shuttered at the scene, and slightly clung close behind Michael.

“Ugh, you go to these things for fun?” I asked disgusted.

“Once you get into the kitchen is when the real fun starts.” And he lead me to the place of people puking, drinks sliding off the counters and girls doing body shots off each other.

Within a second a beer was lodged into my hand, and shoved into my mouth by a random guy who saw me without one. I spit it out and pushed his hand away, making the bottle drop to the ground and shattering.

“Hey! I was only trying to let you hang loose. You’re the only one who doesn’t have one!” He drunkenly slurred. I scuffed and pushed past him. I don’t know how it happened, but I had lost Michael in all the craziness of drinking and sex. I looked all around me and above a few hands to find that bright blonde hair, but to no success, I could never find him. I began to get scared being by myself and couldn’t find Luke or Ashton and god knows where Calum is. I backed up into the cold granite counter top near the red cups, and closed my eyes breathing in and out trying to stay calm. In this mindset, being by myself and only wanting to leave but having no way to, I angrily grabbed a red cup and filled it with the closest alcohol I could reach. I filled the cup half way and chugged a fourth of it right there. It burned like shit, and went down in my stomach like a brick. I winced and looked at the clear liquid questioningly. I turned the bottle of alcohol I grabbed before and saw it was god damn Everclear. I almost gagged. The one alcohol I promised myself to drink and it was the one I grabbed. I mentally face palmed myself for this, but right now I needed something to forget the growing pain from Calum and anxiety from Michael leaving me.

Three more half cups of Everclear and I was sitting on the countertop like those girls I saw as I walked in. I had become one of them. Cups of different liquor surrounded me and I drank from each one earning a lot of cheers around. Still no sign of any of the guys, just people who I was going to know for a night and never again. I was tipsy I will admit, almost to the point of not being in control of my body and actions, but I was sober enough to know what was going on. Another man who was around 6 foot and had perfectly shaved scruff with the first three buttons of his shirt undone came and stood in between my legs, immediately running his hands on my thighs. With a cup full of some type of vodka, I pushed him away roughly, letting him know I wasn’t interested. He continued to smile smugly and proceed into my legs. I pulled the cup away from my lips and yelled at him pushing him away once more.

“Aw c’mon princess, you seem lonely. I know you want someone to make you feel good.” His lips lundged for my neck but before he could attach them, I threw my drink into his face and over his head in an instinct, and saw him cover his eyes from the burning sensation. Everybody saw and heard his yell out, all turning to us. He wiped away the alcohol from his now red eyes looking straight at me, and I started to tremble at the new attention I was recieving.

“Oh no. You’re gonna wish you hadn’t done that princess.” He took two strides toward me and I sat with fear not moving, just watching his smug eyes stare down at me. But his body was flung away from me and was pushed back into the counter of liquor, spilling and crushed all the bottles. The man fell and laid on the floor covered in glass and tequila, while the body who saved me from possible physical harm stood with his back to me. I jumped down from the counter, the silence and shock from people still in the air. I put a hand on the mystery boys shoulder to turn him around, but his face turned back to me before I could, and my hand fell over my mouth instead of his shoulder.

“Cal…” I said under my breathe. His jaw tensed up, and walked toward the boy leaning down so they were the same level.

“You don’t ever touch her again. Next time, you won’t have the strength to get up.” And Calum flicked a piece of glass on his forehead before straightening up and walked out towards the backyard past a huddled group of people. Everyone began talking again, but mostly about what just happened, and I bolted out towards the backyard following Calum. I pushed past a big group of people smelling like sex and shame before reaching the surprisingly empty back part of the house. Calum’s back was facing me again as he pulled out his cigarette and lighter, completely unphased by what just happened. I heard the flick of the lighter, and his breathe inhale before speaking.

“What the hell was that about Calum?” He exhaled the smoke and continued to turn away from me, but I could see his side profile. His eyes trying their hardest not to look at me.

“You can’t keep ignoring me for forever Calum. We both did some pretty screwed up things to each other. But how do you expect us to get better if we don’t talk it out.” Still, nothing. I stepped closer, almost close enough to that he could see my body heat radiating onto his.

“Calum, I love you. And I’ve missed you so much. I’m so sorry about lying to you, but you also did something that is unforgivable. And for so long too Cal. Please just talk to me.” The same actions were repeated. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. I began to get really frustrated and walked closer to Calum.

“God damn it Calum talk to me.” And a splash was heard after. I was so angry I pushed Calum into the pool, putting out his cig and finally getting his attention. He came up for air pushing his hair out of his face and giving the death stare. I immediately started stammering thinking of what to say, looking everywhere for an explanation.

He pulled himself out the pool and slowly stood up to his feet. His hands wringed his shirt of water, and ran another hand threw his hair that was beginning to return to its natural curls. I walked towards him and his feet found mine, and we met in the middle. Before I could even say a word, his hands grabbed my cheeks and pulled my lips in on his. I could taste the cigarette smoke and slight beer flavor come through, molding onto my vodka tasting ones. His clothes were starting to soak through mine, and his wet hands dampened my face. And even through the hatred and anger I had towards Calum right now, kissing him and feeling the passion flow between both of us felt right to me, and I didn’t want to stop.

“Calum…?” A small shrill voice asked behind us at the backyard enterance.

But it looks like someone else did.

Pig (Combo Post)

You and Dylan were living together as you both worked on the Teen Wolf set.

You were more behind the scenes while Dylan was obviously in front of the camera. During the previous season, the first time you worked there, the two of you had become friends. When he said that he was looking for a place to stay, you offered the extra room in your apartment.

You warned him beforehand that it was probably more girly than he was used to when he lived with the guys, but it was also going to be cleaner. He had agreed to stay at your place, helping out with rent and groceries.

So for a few months while Teen Wolf was shooting, you had a roommate.

And it was time for both of you to get to work.

“Dylan!” you call again.

Dylan comes in, rubbing his eyes. He has crazy bed head and is lacking a shirt.

“Couldn’t have put a shirt on?“

He grunts in response, obviously not in the mood for your jokes yet.

"Well sleeping beauty, I made eggs and coffee. Want some?”

“Yeah,” he says, laying his head down on the counter.

“You getting a shower before we go?”

He just shakes his head, head still down.

“Alright, whatever.”

You put a place full of eggs and bacon in front of him, along with a smoking cup of coffee.

“Dude, if you don’t get your ass moving you’re going to make both of us late. What’s your deal? I thought you were in bed before me?”

“Britt called me late last night,” he states groggily.

“Oh?” you raise your eyebrows.

“No don’t ‘oh’ me, it’s nothing bad.”


“She just does not understand the concept of a thing called time difference.”

You laugh, “So how’s good ol’ Brittany doing?”

He smiles, “She’s good. She’s excited to visit. You’re still sure you’re okay with her staying over here?”

“Yes for the millionth time. I don’t care if she stays her.”

By now, Dylan has dove into his breakfast.

“How was your date last night by the way?”

“Ugh. Never let me allow Tyler to set me up again.”

“That bad?” Dylan chuckles.

“The dude ended up being this super arrogant, close-minded pig.”

“Oh no! The horror!” Dylan mocks.

You roll your eyes, “Shut up. It’s not funny. Why would Tyler even set me up with someone like that?”

“The pig part. Definitely the pig part. He saw how pig like you are. Thought you two hogs would hit it off.”

“I hate you,” you say, shaking your head.

“Nah you love me.”

“Ha. You wish.”

“I have a girlfriend. I already have someone who loves me. I don’t need your love.”

“You are the biggest liar ever. You’d be lost without me. ‘Brittany isn’t calling me back! What did I do?’ 'How do I iron this shirt?’ 'Can you make me breakfast?’ 'Can you make sure I get up on time?’ 'How does this look?’ 'What should I get Britt for our anniversary?’” you mock.

He puts his hands in the air, surrendering. “Okay, you got me.”

“Hell yeah I got you. Speaking of which, go get dressed man. We gotta leave in 5.”

“Shit!” Dylan says, jumping out of the chair and running to his room.

“Sometimes I’m more your mom than your friend,” you yell after him.

“Go best friend that’s my best friend that’s my best friend!” You and Dylan scream at each other before bursting into laughter as both of you attempt to twerk.

“Oh my god Dylan, what is that?” you cackle.

“I’m twerkin’ bitch!” he yells.

“That ain’t twerkin’!” you yell back.

It was a Friday, after work. You and Dylan had gotten a little…rowdy.

To say it honestly, it was the first chance the two of you could get sloppy drunk together at the apartment since Britt left.

You loved having her at your place, it was nice to have another girl around and someone else to pick on Dylan with. Teasing Dylan was one of your favorite hobbies.

But she had to leave and you and Dylan had a ritual. If you broke up with a boy or whenever Dylan and Britt had to leave each other, the two of you would drown your sadness in liquor the first chance neither of you had to do something the next day.

Today was finally that day.

So you cranked up the stereo and got out the bottles. There was dancing, loud singing-essentially yelling, and lots and lots of drinking.

It was fun. It was carefree and fun.

“Oh my god, change the song!” you yell over the music as you pour two more shots.

Dylan sways over to go change the song, accidentally playing some sad, slow song.

“What the hell?” you hear him say. “Get the fuck outta here,” he says to the speakers.

You chuckle to yourself, the fact that he’s literally talking to an object is too funny.

He changes the song, again, and comes waltzing into the kitchen where you are.

“Yaaass,” he says in his best white-girl voice, “Shotssss.”

You smile, “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” he echoes, meeting your shot glass.

The rest of the evening consists of more drinking, dancing, laughing, and carrying on.

And eventually you both pass out.

“Oh why do we do this to ourselves?” you moan, unmoving from the seat you’ve woken up from.

All you hear is a grunt from Dylan on the couch.

You consider getting up but decide that sleeping some more is the better option.

After an undetermined amount of time, you wake up again, this time to the smell of eggs and bacon.

“What are you doing?” you murmur, shoving your face into the cushion.

“I’m being mom this time.”


“Because I apparently drank more water between shots and am in far better working condition than you.”


“So, I made some eggs and bacon.”

“I don’t wanna eat,” you whine.

“Alright, then will you drink some water for me?”

“Drink your own damn water.”

He chuckles, “Y/N, you know that’s not what I mean-”

“I don’t care.”

“Y/N, please drink some water.”

You only moan some more.

“Dylan,” you while again.

“Y/N, I’m only trying to help you. Here, let me get you some water. And then you’re going to do what I say and drink it.”

“Why are you so mean and bossy?” you ask as he gets up and moves into the kitchen.

“Why are you still drunk?” he teases.

“I’m not still drunk. How could I still be drunk? It’s morning.”

“Actually it’s afternoon and I think you’re still drunk. Now drink this,” he says, coming back into the room and handing you a water.

You begrudgingly do as he says, hating him a little for making you move.

“Good. Now, do you want to eat something?”

“No, I just want to sleep.”  


“I can’t move.”

He laughs, “Yes you can.”

“Can you carry me?”

“Are you serious?” he asks, bewildered.

“Yes, I can’t do it.”

“Alright fine, jeez you’re such a princess.”

You wrap your arms around his neck as he picks you up into his arms. He carries you into your room, tucking you into bed.

“Why are you so mean to me?”

“Mean to you? I just carried you into your room.”

“You call me names.”


“Yeah, you called me a pig and a princess, and last night you called me a bitch. Why don’t you like me?”

“Y/N, you know that’s not true. You know I love you, you’re my best friend.”

“Well you’re my best friend but I don’t say mean things to you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Mkay, I forgive you,” you say, already slipping back to sleep.

“I need a man,” you announce, throwing your phone to the side.

“Yes you do,” Dylan agrees. He doesn’t even bother to turn away from the game on TV. He just takes another sip of beer.

“Shut up,” you say as you playfully smack him.

“Hey! Watch it! I have a drink in my hand. Besides, I’m right. You need to get laid or something. Find a…a hobby,” he adds with a wink.

“Oh my god, you did not.”

He smirks, “Yes. I believe I did.”

“I hate you,” you laugh.


“No, pretty sure I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Did you order that pizza yet?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, I ordered the pizza.”

“Awesome. How soon will it be here?”

“Like 15.”

The game cuts to a commercial and Dylan turns towards you.

“Okay, now listen up. You don’t need a guy. I don’t know why the fuck you think you do, but you don’t. Guys are dumb and stupid, and they just distract you and get you all bothered. You don’t need a guy,” he says seriously.

“Interesting considering you’re a guy.”

“I’m your friend. And trust me when I say you don’t need a guy.”

“Thanks Dylan,” you blush.

“Alright, now grab my wallet and pay for the pizza.”

You smile, hopping up from the couch. You find Dylan’s wallet and open it to get the money, only a condom falls out.

“Dylan are you serious?” you ask, holding it up for him to see.

He shifts in his seat to see you, and color immediately rushes to his cheeks.


“Now Dylan, I’m glad that you are being safe and using protection, but make sure you are doing it for the right reasons,” you mock in your best suburban-mom-gives-the-birds-and-the-bees impression.

“Oh my god, shut up,” Dylan chuckles, rolling his eyes.

Now you’re the one smirking. “I just want to make sure you don’t do anything you’ll regret later,” you continue the impression.

“Why do you love pretending to be my mom so much? Hm?”

“Dylan, didn’t you know? I am your mom!” you reply sarcastically.

“Okay, now I hate you.”

“Good,” you smile.

“Hey hun-” Dylan yells from his room.

“Hun? You are you callin’ hun?” you smirk.

“Oh my god,” you hear him say to himself. Then you hear him walking to find you. And what you find on his face is a look of sheer horror.

“Okay, okay. I totally did not mean to call you that. Like it just slipped. I didn’t mean to, I don’t know why. I was thinking about Britt, and I would call her hun, and then I called for you and…and…”

“Dyl calm down,” you laugh, “I get it. It happens. Don’t worry.”

“I’m really sorry, I really didn’t mean to-” he continues.

“Dylan,” you scold, “knock it off. I’m serious. It’s not a big deal.”

He takes a deep breath, trying to settle his guilt.

“Now, what were you going to ask me?”

“Um… I was going to ask you about our plans for this thing… Like, what am I? Your escort? Or your chaperone? Ohh! Or your wingman? Okay, but seriously, why do you need, or even want, me to go to this thing?”

“Dylan, Dylan, Dylan,” you shake your head, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You simply do not understand. See, as a best friend, it is your duty to go with me to events like this to protect me. So basically, you’re all three of those things for me tonight. I need a date. I need someone to make sure that if some creep tries something on me you get me out safely. Or if there’s someone I don’t like, you get me the hell away from them. And, you know, I mean, you’re always my wing man.”

“Oh great,” he rolls his eyes, “I never signed up to be your best friend. Therefore, these rules should not apply.”

“Oh shut up. You know I’d do it for you. Wait, I have done it for you. So ha. Now go fix that tie, I don’t need to look like I associate with pigs like you.”

“I thought you were the pig?” he asks while walking to a mirror.

“I think we both very well know who the real pig is. The title belongs to you. You leave the toilet seat up, you leave crumbs everywhere when you eat, and honestly when was the last time you did your laundry? Or truly saw your floor?”

“Okay, okay, no need to point fingers here. Didn’t you say we’re all friends?”

“Yeah only if you sign the agreement.”

“Oh we have friendship contracts now?” he mocks.

“I mean, sometimes it’s just needed. I can’t have you calling me honey all the time now can I?”

“I told you it was an accident!”

You give a big, goofy, devious smile.

“I know,” you add with a wink.

“Dylan are you and Y/N dating?”

“Dylan what happened to Britt?”

“Have you and Britt broken up?”

“Dylan what does this mean for relationship status?”

That’s what all the paparazzi and reporters and fans were yelling at you (and more) as you stepped from the car to the few feet to the entrance of the shin-dig that you got Dylan to go along as your date.

You didn’t think about how it would look to everyone else, how everyone would automatically be drawn to Dylan, or how shitty the whole ordeal would make you feel.

And that was only you trying to walking in.

Dylan kept his head down and his hand on your back, helping guide you inside.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” Dylan says as soon as you’ve entered and the doors close.

You’re stunned, at a loss for words-something very unusual for you. Luckily, the two of you are quickly shuffled to a new location to where your special event is taking place.

Your event.

The rest of the night was fairly uneventful. You couldn’t shake that oddly depressing feeling from when you and Dylan entered. People were nice towards you, a few guys flirted but nothing major. A lot of people were intrigued by Dylan, several girls flirted with him.

You were surprised by how jealous you were of the attention Dylan was getting. You were mad at yourself for being jealous. Dylan was your best friend after all. You should have been happy of his success, of his accomplishments, and the people he’s gained supporting him.

And of course you were, all the time. But it was disappointing that this was supposed to be about you, about your newest movie that was coming out.

Sure, you weren’t the main star or anything, but you wanted this to be about you. Or at least more about you.

You just didn’t think about all the attention that would be given over Dylan. Which also made you feel guilty. He’s your best friend.

When it was all over, you and Dylan struggled to get into the car, everyone in your face hoping to draw something from one of you.

You didn’t say anything during the car ride home and went straight to your room to change out of your clothes into something more comfortable. You ran into him in the kitchen when you were trying to grab a beer and mumbled, “Thanks for going with me.”

“Hey, Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything, I hope you had a good time,” you feign.

“I hope you did too,” he says sadly.

You and Dylan have been on rocky, awkward terms to say it at best. He was still living with you, but the conversations have been forced and uncomfortable.

Really, the two of you were just avoiding each other. It had been working out for you guys at work. Neither had to be on set at the same time.

This evening was no different, except for the fact that Tyler had invited everyone on set to go to karaoke and wings night at a local bar.

You had indulged with Tyler’s want to get tipsy. And then drunk.

And then plastered.

Holland, being the mom of the group as always, was trying to take responsibility of you in your disoriented self.

“Sweetie, please drink some water. Like a lot of water.”

“Nah, nah, nah. I don’t need water. I need another shot!” you yelled.

“Y/N, I really think you need some water, and maybe your bed.”

“Oooh, my bed! I love my bed, I’d love to go to bed…No, just kidding, I wanna stay out with you guys!”

“I’m going to call Dylan and have him pick you up.”

You rolled your eyes dramatically, “Psht. I don’t need Dylan-”

“Y/N,” she looked at you skeptically.

“Holland,” you mimic.

She ignores you and calls Dylan. Dylan, for reasons you cannot fathom, picks you up.

He did more than just pick you up actually.

He drove to the bar, somehow convinced you to leave the bar (which was quite a task), half dragged you out, got you into his car, got you home, picked your passed out ass out of the passenger seat and into your room.

You woke up the next morning, unable to remember what happened. Instead, there was a glass of water and a note: Y/N, text me when you’re up I’ll make breakfast. -Dyl

You texted Dylan as you were told, and he sweetly brought you pancakes shortly after.

“Hey, how’s the hangover?” he asked.

“Well it’s a hangover, so…”

“Yeah, that’s why I thought pancakes would be best.”

“Good call,” you lightheartedly joke.

“Alright well…” he mutters as he gets ready to leave your room.

“Wait Dylan-” you say before you stop yourself.


“Um…what happened last night?”

“I think Tyler convinced you to keep up with him, and he’s a tank so you were screwed over from the get-go. Holland had been drinking too so she called me and I picked you up.”


“And what?”

“What embarrassing or hurtful thing did I say to you?” you regrettably question.

“Nothing,” he answers uncertainty.

The Animal Inside - werewolf!Calum pt. 2

Author’s Note: This chapter is kind of bleh but it lays the groundwork for a lot of what’s going to happen throughout the story. Again, let me know if it’s any good! PS I’ve never written present tense before so if it jumps from present to past tense, that’s my bad. I’m still trying to get used to this style.

Rating: PG (some sexual comments, language)

Part One

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