i tried fixing it but it just looked worse

  • Hoshi: (recording his voice) Day 1 without Mingyu. Rations are falling low. Only half a piece of lettuce and a jar of expired jam in the fridg- never mind. Woozi just ate them - that's disgusting. The AC broke last night, Coups tried to fix it - punched a hole through the wall instead. Vernon's been missing for 14 hours. Seungkwan went out looking for him - no news of him either. Dino's crying alone in the corner... ahh nope Dk is crying with him. The8 tried to cook and lit the stove on fire, Wonwoo and Jun are helping him put it out. Or making it worse? Joshua said he was going to take the trash out but it's been a few hours so I think he's trying to fly back to America instead. Jeonghan's still asleep - wait, is he breathing? Jeonghan? JEONGHAN? - (audio cuts out)
Imagine Dean shooting you when he loses his memory.

A/N: This is set during the episode “Regarding Dean” when he loses his memory.

The witch stood there as you came bolting down the stairs; Sam was somewhere behind you but you were more concerned with making sure the witch didn’t disappear before you could fix Dean. Looking down the stairs you made eye contact with Dean, who was quick to raise his gun to you instead of the witch the gun was originally pointed at.

You threw your hands up in the air and shouted “no” right before a gunshot went off. Your eyes closed at the sound but quickly ripped them open when you felt the immense pain spreading through your abdomen.

Rowena stood there in shock as you stumbled back a step, falling to the stairs. Dean continued to look around confused when Sam came to the banister. His eyes widened at the sight of you on the stairs before looking at Dean and raising his hands. “B-brother.” He said, tapping his chest. Next he pointed to where you were, “Sister.” Lastly he pointed at the blonde woman, “Witch.”

Dean quickly pointed the gun the witch and shot her. He give a grin after killing her and looked to Sam for approval but Sam was already at your side panicking.

“Crap.” Sam muttered as he put his large hands over yours as blood continued to pour from your body.

“Not good Sammy.” You grunted out as he pushed on your hands to apply more pressure.

“It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay. Remember I got shot last year by the werewolf? I’m still here right. You’re gonna be fine.” Sam said, trying to convince you and himself that he was telling the truth.

“I’m sorry.” Dean cut in as he approached the stairs, “You’re my sister and I shot you.”

“It’s okay Dean, you don’t remember us.” You tried to sound kind but it came out in grunts.

“Rowena,” Sam called out for the red headed witch, “Can you take Dean upstairs and fix him, please?”

Rowena nodded her head before walking up the stairs, passing you with care, “Come on Dean, let’s get your memories back.”

You watched as Dean followed Rowena upstairs and disappeared before returning your attention to Sam. “Sammy,” You mumbled as you looked down to see a scary amount of your blood pooling around you, “I think this might be worse then Idaho last year.”

“You’re gonna be fine.” Sam replied while trying to formulate a plan.

“Just-make sure Dean doesn’t find out, okay? Say the witch shot me or something, otherwise the guilt will kill him.” You told your older brother.

Sam absentmindedly nodded his head before he looked up and caught your eyes, “Y/N, do me a favor?”

“Kinda bad timing but yeah?” You responded.

Sam maneuvered and lifted you so that he was carrying you bridal style in his arms which resulted in you letting out a painful shout.

“Try not to die.”


Tags under the cut

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Wrapped Around; pt. 2.5

Jimin x Reader x Tae // College!AU // 3990 words

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

Summary: Freshman year was a mess and sophomore year doesn’t seem to be looking too good either. You know boys like them are no good for you but maybe they’re just your kind of type

Genre: Fluff, Smut

A/N: wow I’m so bad at updating, I’m so sorry ahahah. This is a small portion bc I needed to split up what I’ve already written and I’m not sure when I’ll finish the actual part 3 bc I have mid-terms next week! I feel super bad for making y’all wait so… this is roughly (4000/11000 words i’ve written). It ain’t much but ya know don’t hate me pls haha.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Previously…

You run your hands up and down your neck in horror as you see matching dark marks on your neck. What are these? Who did this? Just what the fuck happened last night? Did fucking Jimin— Son of a bitch.


You run to your door, pulling it open hurriedly just so you can catch him but Jimin had made a quick escape.

You slam the door shut, searching instead for your phone. You call him once, twice and he doesn’t pick up… which is odd since he’s practically glued to his phone like all the time. You let out an annoyed groan and settled on texting him instead, fingers furiously tapping at the screen as you typed out your message.

[1:09] You: Jimin what the fuck happened last night?

[1:09] You: how am I even going to hide these marks?

[1:09] You: why couldn’t you just keep your nasty mouth to yourself?

[1:10] You: answer me asshole

[1:10] You: I know you’re reading these

[1:10] You: you’re on your damn phone all the time when we’re doing the quizzes

You wait 5, 10, 15 minutes and there’s still no reply. You go to the bathroom for a quick shower and run to your phone immediately after getting dressed and still no reply. You examine the marks once again and you rest your head on the wall, grumbling at yourself for having too much alcohol the night before.

Even with a scarf, you couldn’t cover the marks that ran all the way to your jawline. You apply a generous amount of foundation and concealer, hoping to hide the petals of blue and purple but you could still see a hint of colour even after slathering on what seems like almost half the bottle of foundation onto your neck. Frustrated, you simply shove the last of your belongings into your bag and make your way to the library.


The throbbing headache you had made it very difficult for you to concentrate on the books you had in front of you. Despite sleeping till 1 pm, you still felt exhausted and you promise yourself to never have that much alcohol again. You sigh, this was starting to sound like what you used to tell yourself every week last semester.

After finishing the last section of your lab report, you allow yourself to take a quick 20-minute nap because honestly you could barely keep your eyes open anyway. You check your phone again, you’re still waiting on Jimin’s reply but your lock screen still comes up blank. Placing your phone to the side, you sink down comfortably into your chair and rest your head on your arms. You will your mind to remember the events of last night but the moment you shut your eyes, you simply drift to sleep.


Your night comes back to you in the form of tiny flashes, simple snippets, each one making you regret the night more and more. The short flashbacks are not in order and it isn’t enough for you to build a coherent timeline of what was your exciting Friday night but they were truly enough to make you feel like flinging yourself across the room.

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mmeyers915  asked:

what about a oneshot where reader is in some kind of trouble (idk what but maybe not the ministry??? idk im stupid) and obliviates newt of all memories of them and he asks what shes doing and she tells him to close his eyes and ANGST (my feelings are going to regret this)

Newt Scamander X Reader – Missing You

A/N – I’ll be honest, this was partially inspired by Lyra’s role in Supergirl. @mmeyers915

Warnings – None.

Rating – T


Originally posted by ultrailoveharrystylesblog

You were forgetting something, there was no doubt about it but what? What could possibly be left? As chaotic and cluttered as Newt’s case was, it was only small, gathering all of your items should have been easy. You sighed impatiently, trying to think of the last item before Newt got back. Perhaps the reason you couldn’t think of it was because you didn’t actually want to leave; you’d follow your goofy love to the ends of the Earth if it was possible. This was most likely your subconscious trying to stop you from leaving; if it was, it wasn’t making things any easier. You already hurt enough knowing what you had to do. Carrying your plan out was going to be like losing a piece of yourself. No. It was worse. You’d be losing him.


It was no use, whether you were forgetting something or not, you had to leave. You grabbed your bag, heading to the ladder out of the case, paling upon the sound of Newt’s all too familiar footsteps. Newt stopped at the bottom of the stairs, his eager grin turning into a look of utter betrayal and horror as he tried to speak, looking at your packed bag.

“(Y/N)” he breathed, unashamed tears forming. “I don’t understand. Just tell me what I did wrong and I’ll fix it. I- I can become anything for you. A-A-Am I too shy? Do I spend too much time with my creatures b-b-because-”

You embraced Newt, desperate to make him stop before you found a reason to stay; leaving was already too hard as it was, hearing how much he loved you and was willing to do for you made it a thousand times worse.

“Newt, don’t worry, this isn’t about you, you- you’re perfect just as you are, sweetheart.”

Hearing your calm tone soothed Newt slightly. He became less tense as he waited for some reasonable or even unreasonable excuse as to why you were taking all your things away. It was probably something silly such as a change of fashion, Feng-shui, or, Merlin forbid, creature urine; some smells just seeped into things and couldn’t be fixed as Newt had learned the hard way.

“Then what- What’s going on?” He asked patiently.

You exhaled sickly, trying to think of where to start. “Okay, sit down, this is going to take some explaining.”

You sat on the small cot Newt sometimes used when alone, patting it for him to join you. Warily, he did, eyeing you the way he did a new, mysterious creature; not with excitement but caution.

“To explain… I have to start with a story about something bad a person did.” You gulped, leaving out the part where the person was you, it would become obvious soon enough but you didn’t want to remember the awful things you’d done just yet. “Before I start this, I have to ask you not to interrupt, okay?”

New nodded hesitantly.

“Alright, thank you. Right, well, um- There was this person, and (s)he worked for some wizards who were into collecting rarities, no matter what kind of illegal or disreputable things they had to do to get what they wanted. Now, this person I mentioned earlier… (s)he had a friend who was badly in debt to them and to help them out, (s)he offered to do whatever it took to pay off this friend’s debt. The guys in charge, they made the person steal a lot of stuff, art mostly and no matter what it was (s)he’d mark whoever owned the item originally, get to know them, sometimes date them, and eventually, steal the item in question. There were never any feelings involved because business should never mix with pleasure, not the romantic kind anyway.

Anyway, the guys on top heard a rumour. It was about some crazy guy who’d come across a Thunderbird.”

Pained realisation showed on Newt’s face, he shook his head. “(Y/N), why- Why are you telling me this?”

“I’m not done.” You blinked back tears. “The person stalked the mark for a week before deciding he’d be an easy job, a month at most but then…Then…” You snivelled, unable to recompose yourself for another minute or so. “(S)he fell for him. He was no longer a mark but someone (s)he w-wanted to m-marry and be with forever. The longer (s)he stayed became more d-dangerous though because the g-guys at the top f-figured out what had happened and they- they threatened to kill the mark unless (s)he could pay off her debt with the Thunderbird.”

“(Y/N), no, you… you wouldn’t.”

You nodded, wiping your face. “I couldn’t.” You sniffed. “I promised I’d find something even more valuable but here’s the thing Newt. The only thing I could find is in the ministry and I- I can’t let you get involved in this. When I do this, you can’t even know me. Do you understand?”

“No. We uh,” he grabbed your hands tightly, “We’ll find a way, together. There has to be some way to do this, right?”

You let out a weak, sad laugh. “Newt Scamander, I was afraid you’d say that.” You pecked his cheek, knowing that if it was his lips, you wouldn’t have the strength to do what you needed to do.

After a deep breath, you pulled your hands back, drawing your wand out from your cloak. You aimed it at Newt, who stared at you helplessly, his hurt expression cutting you like a knife.

“Obliviate.” You whispered, watching his eyes roll expressionlessly into his head. You got up, grabbing your bag and making a hasty retreat from the case into the hotel room outside.

Newt wouldn’t remember anything about you but you would remember every shared moment, every kiss, every touch, every lingering word or smell; that would be your cross to bear.


Newt rubbed his eyes tiredly, looking around his small shed. It was odd really, he couldn’t remember why he was there, or any of the previous day.

“I’ve been working too hard.” He murmured, resting his head on the pillow, while trying to recall the day’s events; it must have been a dissatisfying day at the very least because he couldn’t shake the hollow feeling that something was missing.

He stretched out, his hand encountered something sharp. Absentmindedly, he grasped it, frowning when he found it to be a necklace with a single Hungarian Horntail scale on it. Although Newt had come to terms with the fact that he’d always be alone because of his strange, nomadic lifestyle, he found himself disturbed by the necklace. It was in his most boyish daydreams that, should he meet somebody he truly loved, he’d make them a necklace just like this, yet he knew he’d never made it; he couldn’t have for there was nobody to wear it.

He ran his free hand through his hair, turning the necklace over in his hands before gently placing it in his pocket. “A mystery for another day.” He thought, thinking of the rest he needed now.

AN: Feel Free To Use The Gif


“Newt are you in here?” You call out, Thomas had said he’d seen Newt heading over to the Med-jacks hut.

“(Y/N)?” He asked from within the hut.

 

“Yeah, are you ok Thomas didn’t say what was wrong.” You mumbled, blushing when you rounded the corner that hid the area where Newt could be heard swearing softly. He smiled realising his lack of shirt was the reason for your bright red cheeks and looked t you expectantly.

 

“I’m fine Love no need to worry.”  He mumbled as he attempted to stich up a small cut beneath his collarbone.

“I can help if you like.” You said a little to abruptly. He chuckled before shaking his head and turned back to attempting to fix the cut himself.

 

“(Y/N) it’s a nice offer but the last time you tried to be a Med-Jack Thomas looked like he’d been attacked by a Slicer.” His words made your blush deepen, if that was possible.

 

“Oh… but I’ve had practice.” You said quickly. He flashed you a dazzling smile before reluctantly lowering his hands and glancing down at the cut.

 

“Well just try not to make it any worse we’re running low on supplies.” He muttered. You swallowed and nodded before hurrying over to the neatly organised boxes of medical supplies. You tried your best not to mess up the order of things seeing as Clint had spent a while afternoon organising it.

 

“Um… does it hurt?” You asked sweetly from your spot across the room, picking out herbs and a thin thread.

“Not really… (Y/N) you don’t need all this it isn’t that bad a cut.” He said with raised eyebrows as you hurried back over to him with armfuls of supplies.

“Just wanted to be sure now stay still.” You mumbled. He let you sit him down so his wound was easier to reach, he was a good foot taller than you, and began gently pressing around the wound like Jeff had shown you.

 

“Ahh… shuck (Y/N) your bedside manner needs work.” He hissed as you pressed a little too hard.

 

“Sorry Newt.” You said pulling away quickly. You carefully put a numbing rub that was made from some special herbs Newt grew for the Med-jacks onto the cut, hesitating every now and then when Newt hissed under his breath.

 

“So your still determined to be a Med-jack?” Newt asked as you carefully threaded the thread you’d picked earlier and turned to face him. He was eyeing the small needle in your hand as if you were about to chop his head off but didn’t say anything.

 

“Yup, I’m getting good at it plus the Builders and Slicers are always getting hurt so lots of practise.” You beamed happily at him and he couldn’t help smile back.

You hesitated before making the first stich causing his to grunt but when you asked if he wanted you to stop he shook his head. As you came to the end of the line of stiches you began to giggle causing Newt to frown at you.

 

“Move your head Greenie I can’t see.” You giggled. He smiled and moved slightly however a few moments later his head was in the way again.

 

“Sorry.” He mumbled, glancing at you only to be captivated by the face you pulled as you concentrated. Once you were done you carefully bandaged him up and smiled happily at your work. He chuckled as you clasped your hands in an attempt to hide just how glad you were that you stitched him up on your own. You tidied up and expected Newt to be gone by the time you’d turned around but when you span around he was so close your noses almost touched.

 

“You know I’ve heard it said that kisses make everything better.” He wiggled his eyebrows and nudged your nose with his as he lent down and went to kiss you.

 

“Well pucker up Slunkhead and I’ll see what I can do.” Clint’s voice had you both pulling away with a gasp. He laughed when you blushed.

 

“Thanks Clint I’ll pass, thanks for the help (Y/N) see you at dinner.” He smiled at you before walking to the door, patting Clint on the shoulder as he left.


More Maze Runner

Behind the walls (Chapter 12)

Behind the Walls Masterlist

Pairing: Professor!Bucky X Reader

Words: 1,895

Warnings: Cursing!

Summary: You are currently getting your PhD in Art History, your dissertation being about The Power of Nudity in Art. Your advisor recommends you switch from being her TA to another professor because she feels her health is declining and wants you to get the best help/advice from someone new. She recommends Dr. James Barnes and believes he will be of great help to you. Things don’t turn out as you plan.

A/N: Let me know if you want to be tagged please!! Thanks for the feedback everyone. Also, shoutout to @bellejeunefillesansmerci for suggesting The Rape of Persephone by Bernini. Totally forgot this sculpture exists. Amazing artwork..

Tagging: @amxwxxld @shamvictoria11 @vashanatasha @your-puddin @gatorgal94 @dreeams-unwind @maece-rette @sandycoelho @bellejeunefillesansmerci @confidentrose

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Repeating the Act, part four

Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5

John x reader

Words: 2238

Warnings: drinking and hangovers, unprotected sex (wrap it up).

Thanks to the wonderful @for-the-love-of-dean for betaing!

Tags: @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @deandoesthingstome @mamapeterson @crzcorgi @deansdirtywhore @supernaturally-potter @spnfanficpond @aprofoundbondwithdean @manawhaat @mrswhozeewhatsis @crazytxgradstudent @nothanks-tryagain @lucifersfavoritepet @sunriserose1023 @lindsayisbatshitcrazy @killerofthesouth @katnharper @bkwrm523 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing

Originally posted by negandarylsatisfaction

Your light, seemingly dreamless, sleep was rudely and abruptly disturbed by the shrill sound of violent stirring. The sharp, unmistakable sound of metal hitting glass at full speed made you groan in agony. It was more than enough to stir you up along with the liquid cure he was preparing. You slowly sat up, your body aching, practically telling you, screaming at you, that you were a fucking idiot of a woman. Silently he handed you the glass, cool to the touch, and you accepted, a puzzled expression on your pale face.

“It’ll make you feel better,” kind, hazel eyes smiled at you, “promise.”

Liar, you thought to yourself as you looked down at the glass. He had stirred up a miniature whirlpool in the glass, and merely looking at it had you dizzy and queasy. You closed your eyes and lifted the glass to your lips. Down the hatch in two large gulps. The taste was foul, making you fight hard to keep it from coming right back up. You put the glass down on the nightstand and let yourself fall back down on the pillow. You let out a deep groan of despair.

“For a smart girl, you sure as hell make some stupid decisions, sweetheart…” He muttered from the small kitchenette table, where he’d gone to work.

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Omo #11

{this one is gonna be A LOT different. Here’s how:
1. Not Septiplier, but NatePat (Nathan Sharp x Matthew Patrick)
2. Only LIGHT omorashi, and he doesn’t wet himself completely.
3. THEYRE ON A PLANE!
4. Cute and sexy smut ensues afterwards
5. I need to drag this one out a lot, so it’ll be very long.

ENJOY!! Haha holy shit I almost fucking posted this on the wrong account kILL ME}

Let’s set this straight: Nathan didn’t like planes.

It wasn’t that he was afraid of the view of being really high up or anything, he just had a lot of bad experiences with them.

Nathan and Matt were on a 6-hour flight back to America after their trip to Northern Canada. They hadn’t seen each other before this trip in a while since they did FNAF The Musical, so Nathan decided to join Matt on his trip to Canada to finish filming his video for a project he was working on.

The flight had just taken off, and they had just broken through to the clouds. Nathan was cuddled up in a blanket as he looked out the window at the layer of clouds, now being turned shades of pink and orange as the sun began to set.

He sipped the last of his coffee he and Matt had gotten right before the plane took off, since he was a lot slower with drinks than Matt. He then threw away the cup and looked back out the window, hearing Matt chuckle slightly behind him.

“Hey Nate, I’m gonna take a nap. Wake me up when they bring those little bags of peanuts or cookies, okay?” Matt said with a laugh. Nathan smiled laughed with him, feeling a slight pressure in his bladder as he did so.

“Alright. Will do,” he responded, ignoring the pressure and watching as the clouds rolled by. He put on his headphones and played music as he watched, stifling a yawn before realizing just how tired he was.

He looked over at Matt and leaned on the older man’s shoulder, snuggling into him slightly before falling asleep.

~about 2 hours later~

Matt awoke to the feeling of something hard on his chest, and looked down to see a head full of black hair pressed into it. He smiled sleepily, pulling Nathan closer and holding him- only because it was so cold. Or at least, that’s what Matt kept telling himself.

He looked down at Nathan’s phone to see him listening to his newest song StopRewind, and smiled to himself. It was a really good song, to be fair. He looked up as a flight attendant offered him a drink and a snack, and he took two of each and shook Nathan awake.

“Hey, Nate… up,” he said softly, smiling as Nathan made a small whimpering sound and sat up, rubbing his eyes. Matt looked at the younger male fondly, handing him the drink and the packet of cookies. Nathan nodded slowly and took them, sipping the drink and sitting back.

“How lon'was I ‘sleep…?” Nathan asked, his voice slightly slurred. Matt shrugged and looked at the clock on his phone.

“About 2 hours? Ish? I dunno, I just woke up too,” He said with a smile, fixing his hair. Nathan nodded, feeling that pressure on his bladder again. He wanted to go while it wasn’t too urgent, but didn’t wanna have to crawl over Matt. He could wait a while.

Nathan looked out the window and started eating his little cookies when a sharp push on his bladder took him by surprise. 'Guess I have to go a lot worse than I thought…’ he told himself, biting his lip and crossing his legs. He tried to distract himself with music and games on his phone, which worked for about another hour.

“Hey Nate, you got an extra blanket?” Matt suddenly asked, snapping Nathan back to reality. Nathan shook his head, thinking for a moment.

“You can take mine, though. I’ll be fine…” he offered, taking off his blanket and handing it to Matt, who shook his head.

“No, it’s yours. I’m okay,” Matt said sweetly, smiling at him. Nathan hesitantly put the blanket back over himself, dropping his phone and wincing as it landed right on his bladder. He yelped and doubled over, cursing under his breath repeatedly as he felt a small spurt go into his jeans.

“Hey, you okay??” Matt asked, his voice laced heavily with concern as he placed his hand on Nathan’s back. Nathan just nodded silently, decided that enough was enough.

“I-I’m fine, just really, REALLY need a bathroom….” he mumbled, crossing his legs tighter and bouncing them as he tried to hold it in.

“You could’ve said something!” Matt said, surprised. He picked up Nathan, obviously taking into account that he couldn’t get up or he would wet himself. Nathan just whimpered and let the older man take him as he squirmed and held himself desperately. He winced as he felt another much bigger spurt go into his jeans, forming a wet spot about the size of a golf ball. When they got back there, Matt closed the door and backed against it as far as possible to give Nathan enough room to relieve himself.

Nathan quickly unzipped his jeans and pulled himself out, sighing and relaxing as he pissed full throttle into the toilet. He moaned softly and bit his lip, closing his eyes as he shifted his hips. He loved the warm feeling that the relief gave him, it even got him slightly hard. He relaxed more as his stream finally stopped after what seemed like hours, tucking his half-hard dick back into his black skinny jeans and turning around to bump into Matt, who he had forgotten was with him.

“Fuck, s-sorry,” Nathan muttered, his face only inches away from Matt’s due to how much shorter he was than the older brunette.

“I-it’s fine…. uhm, you okay now?” Matt asked as casually as possible. Nathan nodded, his dick uncomfortable and awkward in his jeans, but not quite hard enough for Matt to notice. Matt looked down on Nathan, noticing the wet spot on his jeans and blushing. “S-sorry you almost…. uhm…. pissed yourself,” he muttered awkwardly. Nathan looked down, sighing when he saw the spot.

“It’s okay…. I shouldn’t have tried to hold it in so long,” He responded, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. He looked up at Matt, who’s eyes were clouded with an emotion he couldn’t read. “A-are you oka-”

Nathan was cut off quickly as Matt pressed his lips to the shorter male’s, closing his eyes and kissing him passionately. Nathan made a small whimper as he was pushed backwards, eyes widening as he realized what was happening. He was kissing his best friend.

Nathan held his hands up, squirming as he felt Matt’s hands roam down his back and paw at his ass. Nathan pushed Matt away gently, and found himself wanting more. He wanted more of Matt, more of his touch, more of his affection, more of his body. His cheeks heated up as well as the core of his stomach, and he turned bright red as his cock hardened more and pressed uncomfortable and slightly painful against his jeans.

“I-I’m sorry, I took this the wrong way… fuck- uhm, I’ll-” Matt stuttered, not sure what to say. He then cut himself off as he saw the bulge in Nathan’s lap. He stared down at it until Nathan crossed his legs, wincing at the tightness on his crotch.

Nathan whimpered and squirmed slightly, not sure how to tell Matt he wanted more. 'Hey, I know we’re only friends, but I’m suddenly horny so we should fuck.’ There was no way to say it, so he figured he’d just show it.

He grabbed the collar of Matt’s shirt and pulled him downward, kissing him roughly and grabbing one of his hands. He led the hand down to his crotch and pressed it there, whimpering softly at the touch. Matt pulled up to breathe, looking at Nathan with that clouded look again and Nathan was finally able to place it: Lust.

“Y-you really want this…? Here? Now?” Matt asked. Nathan gave a vigorous nod, his body never wanting to be closer to Matt’s than it did now. Matt nodded hesitantly, kissing him again and running his hands under Nathan’s shirt. The two were making out for about 2 minutes before Matt reached down and grabbed between Nathan’s legs, causing him to gasp and moan quite loudly.

Matt clamped a hand over Nathan’s mouth, kissing and sucking on his neck as he palmed him gently. Nathan was still moaning, though it was muffled now. They hadn’t even been doing this for 5 minutes and he was already so close to cumming in his jeans like a teenager.

Matt just kept palming, loving the sounds Nathan was making. He also loved seeing the young musician so sex-drunk and so needy. He was moaning and whimpering with his head tilted back, eyes closed and hair messy. He had sweat running down the side of his face, and his hips were grinding up into Matt’s hand for more friction and pleasure.

“You look so hot, Nate,” Matt muttered, making Nathan whimper again. “Want more?” Nathan simply nodded vigorously, his body shaking slightly. His stomach was tight, he needed release and he needed it soon.

Matt quickly unzipped and unbuttoned Nathan’s jeans, pushing his damp boxers out of the way before pulling him out and pausing for a moment to admire him. He was definitely above average lengthwise. Matt then got down on his knees and sucked quickly, Nathan moaning and covering his mouth to try and stay quiet.

The plane suddenly jolted a small bit, causing Matt to go farther down on him and almost choke. Nathan just moaned again and whimpered, resisting the urge to fuck Matt’s mouth.

“O-oh, Matt, ahh! G-gonna cum…!” Nathan managed, his voice still muffled by his hand. Matt just sucked harder, smirking and swallowing as Nathan came hard down his throat. He even tasted sweet.

He quickly pulled off, tucking Nathan back into his jeans and leaving the bathroom. Nathan zipped them up and followed quickly, doing the button as he walked down the aisle. He looked around nervously, afraid that someone might’ve heard them, but no one was looking at them weird or anything like that, so he relaxed and squeezed past Matt to his seat.

Nathan smiled to himself and put his headphones back on, closing his eyes and dissolving into the music. Maybe flights weren’t as bad as he thought.

Yunho: (recording his voice) Day 1 without Bullet. Rations are falling low. Only half a piece of lettuce and a jar of expired jam are in the fridg- never mind. Dawon just ate them - that’s disgusting. The AC broke last night, Damon tried to fix it - punched a hole through the wall instead. Riho’s been missing for 14 hours. Seungbo went out looking for him - no news of him either. Xiweol’s crying alone in the corner… ahh nope Manny is crying with him. Jaebin tried to cook and lit the stove on fire, Xin is helping him put it out. Or making it worse? Anthony said he was going to take the trash out but it’s been a few hours so I think he’s trying to fly back to America instead. Kid’s still asleep - wait, is he breathing? Kid? KID? - (audio cuts out)

red rights

Since someone expressed curiosity about ‘so imperialtrellis what’s your feeling on red rights then’:

I don’t exactly talk about it much but I’ve got obsessive-compulsive

And from the vantage point of ‘knowing exactly what that fucking feeling’s like’, if you run the whole ‘pollution’ thing through ~diagnostic criteria~, what’d you know, it matches pretty much exactly. 

‘If I touch a red even for an instant I have to go through incredibly extensive decontamination or I will be polluted and that’s Horrible’ (which, before anyone objects, yeah specific-I is very much included in that general-I!) matches damn exactly to ‘if I don’t time my arrival at a train station to the number of the train and how many stops I’m traveling, I have to leave, retrace my steps for a certain amount of time, and come back and get it right, or I will be off and that’s Horrible’. 

(And in both cases they might trace to things that make perfect sense - if you touch the dead body of someone who died in an epidemic you might get sick. If you touch sewage and don’t wash your hands you’re probably going to get sick. Some trains are pretty reliably off-time and if I remember how it goes there’s less chance I’ll miss the train. But at the moment they’re definitely not there anymore.)


So the way I see it, there’s three (ok, kind of three and a half) options.

1. Pollution stuff is exactly like having obsessive-compulsive and since most people don’t actually have that if we set up the proper regimen for getting there we can get mostly everyone to stop being o-c about it and then we can integrate reds and all live happily every after.

(Like, if someone’s freaking out about a spider because they think the spider has deadly poison, and you let them know that it doesn’t, they’re going to calm down. If someone’s freaking out because they have arachnophobia and you let them know the spider isn’t poisonous that’s not gong to help because their brain’s just doing a thing. Same idea.)

2. Pollution is exactly like having o-c, but everyone’s brain does have the o-c stuff just in it, so the brain’s not gonna let us all just be fine even if we try.

(2b. Everyone’s brain does have the o-c stuff in it but it’s nurture not nature. In that case we can’t do the #1 thing, but we could still get a regiment to phase it out over generations (shouldn’t even take that many)).

3. Pollution isn’t actually like having o-c. It looks like it, but really there’s something going on that’s not just in everyone’s brain, even though all the green’s who’ve tried still haven’t found what.


If 1. or 2b. is true, we’ve got a pretty tractable problem.

If 2. or 3. is true, we don’t (and yeah, I mean 2. too. There might not be any reason that’s not in my brain for the train shit, but if I didn’t do it it really is true that I’d feel like shit until I fix it (which is even worse, as a process), and that getting it right is a giant pain but is still loads better than feeling like shit all the time. If pollution’s also in the brain, people (including also me like I said I’ve been there both ways) feeling unclean and that being so completely fucking horrid it’s more than worth all the showering is still completely fucking real.)

But, you know what - for whatever reason, I can get around all the train shit if I stay off the platform and have a friend stand on it and call me when they can see the train. This is all sorts of great so obviously I take advantage when I can.

But you know what I don’t do? I don’t treat my friends who do this like shit. I don’t treat them like slaves. I appreciate them and I say thank you and I sure as hell don’t beat them to death.


And that’s what reds are. For all of us. (If reds actually feel pollution like we do we’ve got a different problem but based on what I’ve read and all that it looks like they likely enough don’t so literally it’s the same thing except for the majority-minority).

You know what we call the people who do the things most people couldn’t do but that we all depend on - we call them heroes. 

Reds are dealing with this shit (literally) so that we don’t have to. They deserve our gratitude. They deserve proper places to live and food and justice and all that. If we ever don’t need them anymore, they deserve everything they need to keep living properly because they’re the reason we got anywhere. And they deserve damn reparations from all the generations where that sure as fuck isn’t what happened.

Possessed - Imagine Request

Request by @jeffry4ever:  Can a get a fanfic of DeanxReader that is about the Reader getting possessed and Dean trying to snap you out of it?? With a lot of angst and a little bit of fluff.

Characters: Dean x reader, Sam, Rowena (small cameo), Billie the reaper (small cameo), demon, Lucifer (mentioned), Castiel (mentioned).

Word count: 2,897

Warnings: Demonic possession, mentions of blood, violence, major character’s death, angst, minor fluff, language.

A/N: Silly me thought I had published it, then it turned out I had saved it as a draft. My apologies for the inconvinience. Also, this was a pain in the ass to write, it’s been a stressful day and I was out of ideas so I’m sorry if it isn’t what you expected. Feedback is always appreciated.

Enjoy!

Originally posted by australiansquid

The little hotel was full, and the awful storm pouring outside was the only one to blame.

Since it was literally a house turned into a hotel, the rooms were limited and only a few lucky people managed to get a room on time, leaving a whole crowd of dripping-wet people sitting at the lobby.

Some of those unlucky, wet people were the Winchesters and (Y/N).

“I hate storms.” Dean complained yet again.

“We know.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“You’ve said it for like a million times since we got here.” (Y/N) added, sounding as annoyed as the younger Winchester.

Dean sighed and got back up again. He walked over to the lobby to ask for directions to the closest motel. Sadly, this hotel was the only one in a hundred miles radio, and there was no way in hell Baby could survive driving that much under that kind of storm.

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked as he and (Y/N) stared at the groaning Dean, who was now having a discussion with the receptionist as if it would change the situation somehow.

“Peachy.” She replied with a bitter tone.

“Right… I know Dean is an asshole when situations like this happen, but I think we should just ignore it and try to…”

“Try to what? We were going to go back to the bunker tonight, but instead that fucking storm made us end up in a shitty hotel with no rooms available!” The huntress roared.

“Chill, I was just trying to make thing a little better.” Sam quickly replied with wide eyes. This wasn’t her usual behaviour.

“Right, because that’s what the good ‘ol Sammy does.” She huffed, “Give me a break.” And with that being said, she got up and walked away from both brothers.

Dean noticed her pissed of look and rushed to sit back again next to his brother. “What…?”

“Your girlfriend is moody.” Sam stated. Dean, who could read his brother like a child’s book, realized that not only was Sam hurt by whatever she had told him, but he was also insisting on Dean to give him an explanation.

“She’s just tired from hunting… And the hotel not having rooms available just make it worse.” Dean tried to justify her, but Sam wasn’t having it.

“She’s been living with us for a long while and, trust me, this isn’t her usual ‘tired from hunting’ behaviour.” Sam replied angrily.

“Well, it certainly isn’t that time of the month either…” Dean mumbled, getting a confused look from his brother, “I made sure of that this morning before the hunt.”

“Gross.” Sam spat, “Whatever it is, just fix it. Maybe you made her mad by some asshole comment or something.”

Dean nodded, although he didn’t go up to talk to his girlfriend right away; he figured it would be better to give her a bit of space to cool down before facing her.

-

As the night went by, the storm slowed down just enough to turn into a light rain; allowing many of the people at the lobby to drive back home.

“Guys, let’s go.” (Y/N) urged. In spite of being past 3 am she looked really active.

“Sweetheart, we’re spending the night here and then we’ll go back to bunker.” Dean explained as he got up from the floor to walk tiredly towards the receptionist, who was showing him the key to a free room.

“We can’t.” She hissed, “We need to get to the bunker tonight, otherwise…”

“Otherwise what?” Dean furrowed.

“Otherwise, we’ll have to stand Sam’s snores for yet another night.” She corrected herself.

“Sam doesn’t snore.” Dean mumbled.

“Yes he does…” She insisted, “You don’t notice it because you grew up with him.” Dean nodded in agreement.

“We’re staying anyway.” He said, “So you should put on some earplugs or something.”

-

(Y/N) was at the bathroom, taking an unusually long shower.

“Sam, I think something’s wrong with her.” Dean muttered, careful to speak low enough for only Sam to hear.

“No shit.” Sam replied, “Do you think it has to do with the demons we hunted this morning?”

“I don’t know… It can’t be because uh… She has the tattoo.” Dean pouted, thinking the many possibilities.

“Have you uh… Have you used protection when…?” Sam asked, trying to make it as less awkward as possible.

“Of course we do! Sam, for Chuck’s sake, I won’t repeat my mistake with that amazon girl.” Dean roared.

“You should check either way.” Sam continued, “I’ll be down at the bar while you… Check.”

As the younger Winchester walked out of the room, Dean found some courage and entered the bathroom as shamelessly as ever; except this time, he wasn’t planning on taking off any piece of clothing.

The hunter walked in silently. He had left his boots by the bed, so his bare feet were useful enough for him to sneak in without her noticing.

Dean noticed that she was humming to a song – a not-rock song; which wasn’t not only strange but incredibly suspicious. He grabbed the bath’s curtain and pushed it lightly, only to show him the back of his naked girl, who had her eyes closed and her face right under the water.

Dean couldn’t help but to let his eyes wander from the top of her head, all the way down her wet hair, her exposed neck, her flawless skin… He moved down to her ass, ignoring for a second the bottom of her back, where her anti-possession tattoo had been inked, but immediately looked back up.

-

The girl wrapped a towel around her body and walked out of the bathroom, only to find Dean holding his flask, sitting at the edge of the bed with a hurt look on his face.

“Heya, handsome.” She greeted, striking a seductive pose.

“Since when I’m handsome and not babe?” Dean asked without looking up to her.

“Since forever…” She replied, doubtful. “Why are you so grumpy?”

“Maybe because my freaking girlfriend got possessed.” He hissed, finally looking up to her.

(Y/N)’s eyes turned black instantly. “How did you find out?”

“First of all, (Y/N) would never ever be mean to Sam.” Dean replied, showing off his demon knife, “Second of all, she knows Sam doesn’t snore.” Dean stop of from bed, walking over to her and pressing the knife against her collarbone. “And third, you can’t stop me from looking at my girl’s body… And let me tell you, I hate what you did to the tattoo.”

The demon smiled wickedly. “I guess I shouldn’t choose a pervert’s girlfriend as a meat suit then.”

“You should never choose anyone close to me as a meat suit, again.” Dean roared, stepping back. The demon then realized that she had been trapped under a devil’s trap dean had drawn with (Y/N)’s lipstick.

“She’s going to kill you for this.” The demon chuckled.

“At least it will be her and not a fucking demon.” Dean shrugged his shoulders. The demon grumbled, looking around for anything she could use against the hunter. “So why her anyway?”

“I needed to get inside the bunker.” The demon replied, “Once there, I would be able to control every single move you two assholes make and, eventually, weaken you just enough for Lucifer to end you without being a threat.”

“Oh, so Lucy is scared of us.” Dean joked, “That’s lovely. How’s the old man?”

“How dare you disrespect him?” The demon roared.

“Well, turns out that I don’t give a damn who Lucy is, or how much power he has. For me, he is and will always be a cry baby.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows. “Now, we can do it the easy way or the hard way.”

“Screw you.” The demon barked.

“Fine, hard way then.” Dean shrugged, “I was actually going to let you go with a message to Lucy from me and Sam but uh… Guess the only place you’re going is hell.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” The demon winked. Dean walked back inside the devil’s trap, keeping his knife gripped tightly and, again, pointing it at her collarbone.

“If you do something stupid, I’ll hunt you down; and God knows I always keep my word.” Dean whispered, eyes locked into hers, which were back to (Y/E/C) but still darker enough for him to notice it was actually the demon and not the girl he was talking to.

“Oh, Dean,” She smiled, “the only one doing stupid things is you.” Dean furrowed his eyebrows before the demon punched him right on the jaw, making him loose balance and, obviously, soften his grip on the knife – which she took easily before kicking him out of the trap. Said move made the table at the side of the bathroom door loose balance as well, allowing the demon to grab the flower vase, breaking it with her own hands and grabbing a sharp piece.

“Exorcisamus te, omnis inmundus spiritus,” Dean began as soon as he realized what had just happened.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The demon laughed wickedly. She stabbed the huntress leg with the piece of glass, letting red blood drip. “Either you stop the exorcism, or I’ll cut her throat.”

“Don’t you dare.” Dean fumed.

“Don’t make me prove it.” The demon grinned, “Now, this is what’s going to happen: You and Sam come with me at the exact spot I tell you – no weapons, of course. I give you to Lucifer and then I kill your whore as painless and fastest possible.”

“Bite me.” Dean hissed.

“I would, but seems like this meat suit has bitten you too many times already.” The demon winked, “Now, break the trap and let me out.”

“No.” Dean spoke.

“Fine, I won’t kill her.” The demon sighed, “I’ll let her live with the images of her giving her own boyfriend to Lucifer… For the rest of her life.”

“She’s not having those images.” Dean got up from the floor. His flask was still in bed.

“I heard rumour about the Winchesters being idiots,” She laughed, “but this is worse than I expected.” She grinned widely, “You’re actually willing to kill your so-called love of your life just because you’re not willing to meet Lucifer without weapons.”

“I’m not going to kill her.” Dean stated.

“Right, I am going to kill her.” The demon corrected. She took the knife out of her leg, leaving a hole and proceeded to hold it just in place to rip her throat in half. “Go on, exorcise me… But we both know that once I’m out, your whore will be dead.”

“We always come back.” Dean tried to sound confident of his statement.

“Not with Billie around…” The demon giggled, “Yeah, everyone knows she’s not willing to let you or Sam or (Y/N) come back.”

“Then I won’t let you kill (Y/N).” Dean shivered. The demon gave him a daring look, waiting for Dean to make his next move. “(Y/N), I know you’re in there!”

She laughed. “She’s not strong enough Dean.” She pressed the knife tighter to her skin, “I should know. She’s been screaming your name since I possessed her.”

“Babe, please try and take control. I know you can do it.” Dean begged, “It’s your head, and your body… You can do this.”

“Poor thing…” The demon mumbled with a cocky smile, “I’m stronger, Dean.”

“(Y/N) please… If you can kick my ass, you can definitely do this.” Dean continued to ignore the demon, “Just don’t freak out, and focus!”

“I thought you would have a better idea.” The demon faked a yawn, letting the knife travel a bit more, drawing a thin line that started to drip thick blood.

“Calm down, sweetheart.” Dean begged with teary eyes, “Just take control and I’ll do the rest.”

“Boooring!” The demon chanted, and just before she could rip past the half of her throat, Dean stopped her.

Half of her neck was bloody as hell, but that could be fixed. The important this was that Dean managed to stop her on time.

“(Y/N), please fight!” Dean begged, wrestling with the demon.

“(Y/N) is gone, ken-doll.” The demon roared, pushing Dean away. “She won’t come back.”

With a fast hand, the demon stabbed her belly; and if that wasn’t enough, she twisted the knife before taking it out to stab again, this time a bit more to the side.

“Go on, exorcise me.” The demon chuckled.

“Bitch.” Dean muttered, getting more and more concerned about the amount of blood dripping from her girlfriend’s body. ‘It can all be fixed, it’s not that bad’ Dean would repeat himself mentally.

“Should I finish with her throat? Or should I stab her heart?” The demon pouted, “Your girlfriend, your choice.”

“I love you, sweetheart.” Dean surrendered. (Y/N) took enough control to stop the demon from stabbing her heart by forcing her arm down; however, that was all the huntress could do – she wasn’t strong enough.

Dean took advantage of the situation, he grabbed the flask from bed at super speed, opening it and pouring the holy water over her girlfriend’s body. The demon let out a painful screech, dropping the piece of glass to the floor, which Dean kicked out of the devil’s trap.

Little did he know that, between the water and the wrestling, a part of the trap had been smudged, turning the trap useless. The demon noticed and pushed Dean all the way to the opposite wall.

“Dean Winchester, I heard all kinds of stories about you and Sam and, truth is, I thought you were better hunters.” The demon hissed as she walked closer to him. Dean was on the floor, and he couldn’t move. “Who would’ve thought a low range demon would kill the big Dean Winchester?”

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Sam spoke from behind the demon. He had heard the fight and entered silently, finding the demon knife on the floor. The demon turned around to meet the hunter, who greeted her by stabbing the exact same hole she had stabbed before, except this time Sam was using the right knife.

A light shined from her insides before she dropped to the floor. The towel was covered in blood, and the room was destroyed; but what really mattered to both hunters was (Y/N)’s health and she wasn’t even conscious.

-

“I should’ve taken care of you…” Dean whispered at his lifeless girlfriend, “I should’ve noticed… I should’ve been prepared and finished the exorcism before she even grabbed that piece of glass.”

They had taken her to the hospital, but it was too late. Therefore they took her back to the bunker, where Dean had laid her on their shared bed, praying to Castiel with all his might. But the angel never came.

“If I could do something… Anything… I would bring you back.” Dean cried, holding her cold hand with his warm one. She was paler than ever, and her once silky hair looked more like plastic wires now. His pink limps had turned grey and her soft skin was now dull. Dean had prayed every night not to see the day when she died, but his prayers were never answered.

He wondered if Billie had already reaped her or if (Y/N) had said no and decided to stay – and if so, he wanted her ghost to manifest. But then again, it took Bobby a while, so he couldn’t expect the huntress to do it a day after dying.

“Dean…” Sam spoke from the door frame.

“Just give me five more minutes… I want to remember her.” Dean begged, his green eyes glued to the huntress.

“I don’t think we’ll need to burn her.” Sam continued. This time, Dean did turn to see him, noticing that he wasn’t alone.

-

She still needed to heal, therefore she would remain unconscious for a couple days if not the whole week, but she was breathing again, and her hands were warmer and her lips were pink again.

Rowena had made her a special hex bag, as well as some kind of herbal patches for each one of her wounds. Then, after getting on trance, she made it all work and the huntress was alive.

Of course, a witch’s healing wasn’t as good as an angel’s. (Y/N) would feel pain, and she would keep those scars for life, but then again, it didn’t matter.

Billie appeared at the bunker after Rowena finished.

“Dean, we’ve talked about this.” She said.

“I can’t let her go, Billie.” Dean replied with teary eyes.

“I lost a soul, Dean.” Billie insisted.

“Take mine then, but let her live.” The hunter urged to offer. Billie analysed him.

“No.”

“No? Why not?” Dean furrowed.

“I’ll be there when you die, but for now, I won’t take you in exchange of another soul.” Billie explained, “This is the last time I go empty-handed.” And with that, the reaper disappeared.

-

It took forever, but once (Y/N) had healed completely, she came back on hunting, willing to destroy Lucifer, no matter what it took. Sam and Dean, who had forced her to get her tattoo fixed and carry an amulet, were more than willing to kill that ‘freaking angel’ once and for all; and this time, there would be no way he could escape.

Nobody messes with a Winchester, less to say, with a Winchester’s girlfriend.

Try Again

This was one of my few serious stories

Pairing: DeanxReader

His eyes widened at what her response was.
“What?”
“We should break up…”
He looked at her as if she had gone crazy, insane even.  "Break up!? Break up why? I mean I know we-“
“Dean you know as well as I do why. All we ever do is argue. I can’t even remember the last time we were weren’t mad at each other." (Y/n) sighed and folded her arms. "I really don’t wanna do this but-”
“Then don’t! We can fix this! We can fix us!” He stood closer to her, grabbing and unfolding her arms.
“How,” her voice was a whisper. “How Dean? This is the most civil conversation we’ve had in months.”
(Y/n) walked away from him to sit down. “I’ve been trying to stick it out for a while now, hopping things get better but it doesn’t. It just gets worse and worse. And I don’t wanna be in a relationship where I’m not happy…”
He stood there and stared at her completely in shock. “Not happy? I’ve been trying my damn hardest to make you happy-”
“Obviously not if we’re always arguing Dean!” She looked down, putting her face in her hands. “Look I’m just tired ok? Just tired.”
“How are you tired from doing nothing! You haven’t even tried to fix anything yet! You’re just giving up…like you always do.”
(Y/n) gasped and stormed up to him getting in his face. “LIKE I ALWAYS DO? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? IF YOU WERE LISTENING, LIKE YOU NEVER DO, YOU WOULD’VE HEARD ME WHEN I SAID I’VE BEEN TRYING! TRYING SO FUCKING HARD! AND WALKING AWAY FROM OUR ARGUMENTS AREN’T  GIVING UP! IT’S ME TRYING TO KEEP US FROM FALLING APART!”
“Like we are now?”
“Oh my god you’re impossible!” She walked off again, anger taking over her whole being.
“Then why are you still here?! If I don’t listen, if i’m so impossible!?”
“IT’S BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I’VE BEEN STAYING WITH YOU! NO MATTER HOW BAD THINGS GET! No matter how bad you get,” her voice was significantly softer then, conveying her sadness.
He let out a bitter laugh. “How bad I get? You’re not a walk in the park either darling! So don’t act like this is all me!” Dean was shooting her daggers from across the room, anger written completely over his face.
“I know that Dean…”
It was quiet in the room for a while, no one saying anything.
“Look I just…I just think it would be easier for both of us if we ended it.”
“So that’s it huh? Just end it?”
“You have a better idea?”
Dean walked up to her sitting form and kneeled in front of her.
He stared at her form; slouched, hands in her face and he knew she was trying to fight back tears.
“We can keep trying.”
“Dean, I don’t wanna keep trying. Not if anything’s gonna change.”
“Then I’ll change! I’ll change whatever you need me too!” He reached forward and wrapped his arms around her waist, face in her lap. “Just please don’t leave. You’re the best thing I’ve ever had.”
She felt his arms tighten around her and felt his erratic heartbeat on her lap. “Dean I-”
She choked on her tears before they finally fell.
Feeling her body shake he looked up and wiped her tears away.
“I know I can do better. Just let me. You’re the only positive thing I’ve ever had in my life. The only person who’s ever given a damn about me. The only person to stick around. And I don’t wanna lose that. I don’t wanna go back to where wrestling is the only thing I have in my life…”
He wrapped his arms around her again, burying his face in her chest.
She smiled and lifted his face to look at hers.
“You won’t have too…”

a little fic for thekingslover, because she’s home from holiday and we’re all so excited to have her back!! <3

prompt by a lovely anon: college roommates au, dean as an engineer, cas as an art student who leaves his stuff everywhere

read it here on AO3!

The alarm went off at seven in the morning, like always. Dean reached out blindly, his face still buried in his pillow, knocking over his empty water bottle and his stack of books before finally locating his phone and swiping his thumb across the screen, shutting off the shrill tone.

Across the room, Dean heard Cas groan loudly, and mutter a string of quietly vitriolic words at the alarm, at Dean, and at the world in general.

“Good morning to you, too, your highness,” Dean said, his voice slightly hoarse. He’d been feeling under the weather for a couple of days, now; it was probably the stress of turning in his final project that was undermining his health, but he didn’t have time to take a day and recuperate. His project was going exactly nowhere, and had been sitting on his conscience like an anvil for two weeks. Dean lay completely still on his bed, running through the same problems that he’d been going through last night, and all of yesterday, and the day before that one…

He breathed in and out, sharply, and sat up. He’d figure it out today, he was sure. But first, breakfast. He swung his legs out of bed, stomach grumbling. He was absolutely –

Ouch!”

Dean hopped on one foot, grimacing.

“Shhhh,” Cas murmured sleepily.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dean said loudly. “Did I wake you up when I stepped on another one of your goddamn pencil-sharpeners?”

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I Just Need My Big Brothers (Part Two)

Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader (siblings)

Words: 1968

Read Part One

Your eyes slowly opened to a dark room. You could feel the bruises all over your body and could tell you were tied to the chair you were uncomfortably sitting in. Your head hurt; you could feel your pulse in your temples.

           You pulled slightly to test your restraints. Either they were tied too tightly or you were too weak to loosen them. Either way, you were not going to be able to get out of the ropes restraining you.

           “You’re awake,” your ex’s voice broke through the darkness, sending a jolt of fear through your entire body.

           “What are you doing?” you tried to make your voice sound a lot more confident and in charge of your emotions. In reality, you wanted to burst into tears and beg to be let go so you could run to your brothers.

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Too Close for Comfort

Yay my first request! I hope you like it 

Request: Hey yuh! How about a readerXsam where they are in a situation involving a tight space? Like an air vent where sam gets a great view as they climb. Or a closet where he gets a little too much touching. Both of them have crushed on each other? Maybe?

Warnings: Awkwardness, some sexual situations (no smut) a curse word or two, idk, suggestive themes? I’m still not entirely sure what all to put here, oops 

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