i would apologized but no making gifs helps me focus on everything


New Start 

Request: Please do a grayson imagine where you have a boyfriend but he likes you and then you break up with your boyfriend and then you know he likes you :)

arguing, fluff…                        photo creds @ couplenotes


Streams of golden light seeped through the large french windows and into the lower level of the rustic cabin. The setting sun sunk gently past green pine trees and the bubbling stream outside, and added a subtle warmth to the living room where you and your friends all sat. You were all stuffed between the squashy couch and the table on the floor, layers of thick blankets acting as your seats around the game of monopoly that you huddled around. It was your family’s vacation home, but you’d invited your friends on a winding road trip to visit for the weekend, and now, it was your last night here, and you celebrated with a classic board game night. 

“We’re out,” you sighed in defeat, throwing your metallic game piece across the room.

“Mmm,” said your boyfriend, vacantly giving you a wave of his hand but keeping his eyes to his lit up phone.

You coughed lightly and forced a smile, “Um, James, babe, want me to grab you anything to drink?”

But he was so absorbed in whatever was on his screen that he didn’t bother to answer.

“Anyone else?” you offered lightly.

“Ooh, tea pretty please,” your friend Amber smiled.

“Make that two!” Violet perked up.

“Sure thing,” you grinned, already heading for the kitchen. You walked around the island counter, filling the kettle with water and listening to the sounds of the bubbling liquid heat up as you tried to stay poised. You placed your palms on the cool marble countertop, gnawing your lower lip rather roughly. You raised your head to gaze out of the little open window in front of you, your mind going fuzzy as you focused on the scent of the pine trees.

“Um, hey, (Y/N),” came a voice nervously from across the kitchen.

“Oh, hi, Grayson,” you snapped into reality, turning around and pushing your hair from your eyes.

He wore a black shirt paired with a checkered red flannel and some ripped skinnies. His hair was slightly ruffled,  and his dark eyes glowed from the sunlight.

“What’s wrong?” he asked straight away. “And don’t say nothing,” he said when you opened your mouth. 

“Nothing?” you said softly, your teeth grinding together.

Grayson smiled and shook his head, making his way closer to you and leaning against the marble island. “You’re biting your lips, which is what you do when you’re anxious, now tell me.”

You pursed your lips together, shifting your head to stare at the wooden floorboards.

“It’s…James,” you sighed.

Grayson’s nostrils flared, his grip tightening on the counter, but you didn’t notice.

“When we first started dating, it was new, a-and exciting, he was so sweet, but, now..” you paused. “I don’t know, I’m not a lovesick puppy who needs attention all the time, but it’s like he doesn’t even know me anymore. He comes home late, reeking of alcohol, he flirts with other girls, and well, it’s like everything we had before is-”

“Gone,” Grayson finished for you.

You nodded, meeting his concerned gaze.

“Sometimes his good side still shows through,” you gulped nervously.

“’Sometimes,’ doesn’t sound like boyfriend material,” Grayson stated blankly.

You laughed quietly, “am I a jerk for thinking that?”

“No,” Gray’s lips twitched upwards, “you’re human.”

He outstretched his arms, and you stepped gladly into his warm embrace, his hold around you warm and comforting as you nuzzled gently into the crook of Grayson’s neck, breathing in his cool aroma. He squeezed you lightly and swayed you in his arms.

“Sorry to interrupt,” came a sour voice from the opposite side of the kitchen.

Grayson released you, but didn’t turn around.

“James,” you breathed, offering a smile.

“Well, I hate to bother someone who is clearly making tea,” he said through clenched teeth, his green eyes narrowing.

“I was just-” you began, your temper flaring.

Grayson brushed your fingertips lightly with his own, mouthing, ‘don’t.’

You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath, regaining your composure, “do you want some?” you asked James.

“No,” he snarled lightly, “ I want to know why this guy has his hands on my girlfriend.”

“It was a hug!” you laughed in disbelief, “Are you really mad at me for hugging someone?!”

But you couldn’t help but feel your heart beat faster as James approached you with urgency, his face coming inches from your own.

“Is this funny to you?” he breathed.

“Dude, lay off,” Grayson finally spoke in warning.

James pulled away slowly, tilting his head and turning to face Gray with a loud scoff. “So, you’re (Y/N)’s little friend?” he spat.

“Yeah, I was at her dinner party from last week, remember? Oh wait, no you don’t, because you bailed on her.” Grayson challenged with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” James said, his eyes darkening.

“I think I’m the only guy in this room who seems to be treating (Y/N) with the respect she deserves,” Grayson said with no hesitation.

James gave Grayson a rough shove, which hardly phased Gray.

“So, you have a thing for my girlfriend?!” he laughed. “You thought you’d steal her away from me, hmm? Well I have news for you, only I get to do the things  that you could only imagine of doing to her-”

“I know you’re cheating on me,” you whispered softly.

A low silence rang out, the only sound being that of your faltered breathing.

“What?” Grayson and James said in sync.

“I know you’ve been seeing someone else,” you spoke a little louder.

James turned his focus to you, “I’m no-”

“Oh please,” you snapped in annoyance, “it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who you were suddenly so interested in texting all the time. If you’re going to cheat on me, and least be man enough to admit it. And the worst part is that you would dare to come in here and speak down to my friend, and after what you’ve been doing!? Go to hell, James…We’re done.”

“DING!” rang the kettle as you finished.

And with that, the weight that had been resting on your chest was finally lifted, the words you were too scared to previously utter were falling easily off your lips.

You decided a dramatic storm out would be the best way to go, but barely two steps out, James had grabbed you roughly by your wrists.

“Now you listen here,” he began.

“Ah-ow,” you gasped at the feel of his fingernails digging into your flesh, “you’re hurting me.”

“You don’t get to decide when I’m allowed to speak.”

“J-James, it hurts.”

“Listen to me.” He dug harder, so hard that he began to draw blood.

Burning tears came to your eyes, but in one swift movement, James had toppled harshly onto the floor.

You gasped out in pain, rubbing your wrists lightly, and staring at one very pissed off looking Grayson Dolan.

“He deserved it,” Gray snarled, sweeping you into his arms and making his way outside before you could protest.

He led you down the leaf strewn driveway and all the way down to the stream, but you felt so numb and worn out that you didn’t bother feeling guilty about nuzzling into Grayson’s chest, your warm tears soaking into the fabric of his tee.

He placed you softly onto a flat rock on the edge of the water, taking a seat beside you. You sniffed and bent down, washing the blood off your skin in the freezing water. The wind was cool on your skin, the sounds of the bubbling stream relaxing. 

“I’m sorry for dragging you into that,” you mumbled after a few minutes.

“I’m sorry you had to date that pathetic excuse of a human being.”

You plopped back down by Gray, looking up into his stern expression. Grayson stared out at the trees, his hands clasped together in his lap.

“Gray?” you said softly.

He turned his hazel eyes down to yours, “Yeah?”

“Is it…Is it true, what James said? That you have a thing for me?” you gulped, searching Grayson’s features.

Grayson sighed, his eyes lingering on the stones before meeting with yours again, “Yeah, it is.”

“Oh.” You shifted slightly, turning back to the water.

“Sorry, (Y/N), I know that you had enough things to worry about already, but if we’re being honest then-”

You shut him up by grabbing his hand and taking it in your own, keeping your eyes forward as you laced your fingers gently through his.

“Don’t apologize,” you breathed, “you’re right, things are complicated, but all I know is that I really need you here right now.”

“And with you is the only place I want to be,” he smiled softly.

Your lips twitched upwards, “What did I do to deserve you, Grayson Dolan?”

“Exist,” he responded without hesitation.

You laughed quietly, taking the briefest of moments to tug Grayson in by his flannel and bring your lips gently to his cheek, your eyes fluttering closed in the second that you kissed his bronzed skin. You pulled back, running your thumb gently against Grayson’s full lips as he struggled to process your actions. Grayson opened his mouth, but then quickly shut it, deciding instead to pull you into his warm chest. And no words were necessary as you rest there, feeling more happy in this moment than you had in months. 

I finally found the time to upload a chapter in between the 11 other things I’ve got going on right now. One would think I’d spend my summer doing things I can put on my CV… but instead I’m recording a fanfiction podcast and writing fanfiction. Whoops! Either way, enjoy this chapter, my darlings!

The fifth part of The Tower was awesome, omg! I love how you compared Loki’s mind/emotions to a pond, that was amazing.

Can you tag me in the tower? There aren’t nearly enough Loki Fics and yours is truly amazing.

Can you please tag me in the next parts of The Tower? Your writing is So o amazing! I love it!

‘The Tower’ (Part 6)

Part 5

Amid your dreams, you felt a sudden pressure on your chest that was heavy as an anvil. It felt like a paperweight on your lungs, thinning each breath and making it exponentially harder with each inhale. Slowly, as you came around though, the anvil’s weight was alleviated and your respiratory abilities bettered.

The world was murky and a deep, dark crimson. Something about the bitter taste in your mouth and the ache in your jaw indicated that you had slept intensely, and for quite some time, though you couldn’t count the hours at the moment. You managed to pry your eyelids apart despite how they protested and in your attempt to sit up, you felt a small pain in your leg. Lifting your skirt, you examined your wound to see that it looked-

-remarkably well.

Keep reading

ALTL Part 43

gif is not mine

Title: ALTL Part 43

Characters: Gabriel x Reader, Castiel, Lucifer

Word Count: 1,089

Warnings: Death of a character, angst, and slight fluff

A/N: Since all the rest of the parts of ALTL are written and done, I’ll be posting it three times a week now. I hope you all enjoy this! Feedback is welcomed and appreciated! I love you all so much!!

The masterlist to this series can be found HERE!

As you were driving along the road at dusk, you couldn’t help but wonder what was going on back at the bunker.  You could feel Lucifer’s eyes on you.  Was he worried about you?  Was he thinking of ways to bring up what happened?  You weren’t sure.  All you could do was focus on the road ahead of you.

“[Y/N], there’s something you should know,” Lucifer finally spoke.

You checked your rear view mirror, making sure that Dean and Sam were still behind you.  Your eyes glimpsed over at Lucifer before returning back to the road.  “I was wondering when we were gonna have this talk,” you muttered.  

“I’m sure we can all say, except for Sam and Dean that is, that what Bradley did was unexpected,” Lucifer stated flatly.  “You know I’m not one to get all mushy, so there’s no delicate way for me to say it.  You’re mom got shot a few times before I could take away his weapon.”

Keep reading

Pavel Chekov X Reader
Requested by anonymous
I just saw Star Trek and let me just say, Chris Pine is fine!

Being Bones daughter had its perks. Practically living on the ship with him meant that you were constantly in the presence of some of the finest men around, although you’d never say this out loud. All of the girls in Yorktown fawned over Captain Kirk. Yes, he was a very attractive man, but he was also a close friend of yours, and an even closer friend of your fathers. Besides, you only had eyes for one person; Pavel Chekov. From the moment you saw him you knew he was the one. You started off as friends, and naturally grew closer. Now here you are, a year later as a couple. Everyone onboard thought it was cute, well everyone except your father. You see the thing is, he doesn’t exactly know about your relationship with Chekov. As far as your dad knows, you are just close friends. He had told you when you first started going with him to work that you were not allowed to date any of his co-workers. If he found out who knows what he’d do.

You sit between Chekov’s legs, your back pressed against his torso, and his legs on both sides of you, while watching cartoons. He runs his hand up and down your arm absentmindedly. You can’t help but look up at him to admire his facial features. “You’re staring, love.” He chuckles, moving his gaze from the tv screen to your face. You blush, quickly averting your eyes, and cursing yourself for getting caught. He returns his attention back to the tv, leaving you with your thoughts. You start to pay attention to his hand moving up and down your arm. His soft and gentle touches send butterflies to your stomach, along with an idea to your head. Your dad was at a meeting with Kirk and the rest of the team, so you had time. You sit up suddenly, causing Pavel to jerk his head in your direction. He furrows his brows in confusion when you stand up and step in front of him. “Hon, what are you doing?” He asks turning his body so that his legs are out in front of him, his feet touching the floor. You don’t respond to his question, instead you climb on top of him, straddling his thighs. You feel him stiffen, and you already know what he’s thinking. “Pavel, my dad won’t be back for a while. We have plenty of time.” You tell him, and he relaxes a little, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck. You lean in slowly, looking into his eyes before attaching your lips to his. At first the kiss is slow, gentle, and innocent, but soon it becomes rough and lustful. You pull apart only to pull Chekov’s shirt from his body, throwing it to the floor behind you. He pulls you in to him again, putting his arms around your waist. You begin to rock your hips against his, earning a moan from your boyfriend. Stuck in the heat of the moment, you don’t even hear the 3 voices approaching the door, or the jingle of keys in the lock. When the door opens, your father, Kirk, and Spock stand with shocked faces in the doorway. Quickly pulling apart, you stand up running your fingers through your hair, your eyes stuck to the floor. Pavel picks his shirt up, sliding it back on before he clears his throat, both of you trying to slow your own breathing down. A few seconds go by before your father can’t control himself anymore. “YOU,” your dad roars pointing at Pavel with anger in his eyes, “I TRUSTED YOU! I LET YOU HANG OUT WITH HER BECAUSE I THOUGHT YOU WOULD BE A GOOD INFLUENCE ON MY DAUGHTER! I DIDN’T REALIZE THAT I WAS ALSO GIVING YOU PERMISSION TO SHOVE YOUR TONGUE DOWN HER THROAT! Spock tries to interject, but your Dad wouldn’t have it. He then turns his focus to you, his gaze softening, but only slightly, and his voice lowering. "We had an agreement young lady! I told you that you could come with me to work because you said that you wanted to learn about my job, maybe even follow in my footsteps. I told you that there would be no messing around! Especially like this! How could you disobey me, go behind my back and completely disregard my wishes! You will be returning to Yorktown to stay with your mother when we land.” Your father finishes, turning around and exiting the room. Spock nods at you before chasing after your dad to try and calm him down. Your heart shatters into a million pieces, tears beginning to form in your eyes. Kirk looks at you, his deep blue eyes full of sympathy and understanding. He sighs, “Don’t worry, Y/N, I’ll go talk to him, get him to change his mind. Y'know that he didn’t mean any of these things. He was just shocked. I’ll be back when I finish with your Dad.” And with that Kirk leaves the room, the door closing behind him. You just stand, looking at the door for a minute before turning to Chekov. You can see the sadness and guilt written all over his face. “I’m sorry, Pavel.” you sniffle as you move to sit down next to him on the couch. You lean forward putting your elbows on your knees, and your hands on both sides of your face. “It’s my fault. I should have told him a long time ago. Besides, it was only a matter of time before he found out. I just wish that I would have done it earlier, maybe his reaction would have been different. He may have even given us a chance. I’m so sorry that this happened.” You feel Chekov’s hand go to your back, and begin moving in circular motions. He sighs deeply, “it’s alright sweetheart. I’m sorry that I got you in trouble.” When you look at each other, you can’t help but burst into a fit of giggles. “You made it sound like we are in the first grade, and got caught doing something we weren’t supposed to.” He chuckles at you, poking you in the ribs making you yelp. When you’ve calmed down, you lean your head on his shoulder.

Bones slowly opens the door a few hours later, where he finds the two of you on the couch. Pavel is sitting up, his eyes focused on the large screen in front of him, one foot resting on the coffee table and the other planted firmly on the floor. Your head is resting on his lap, eyes closed and your breathing slow. Your legs are curled up slightly, poking out from underneath the fluffy blanket that’s keeping you warm. One of Pavel’s arms is resting over your hip, his other one bent at the elbow, supporting his head. “I would like to apologize.” Your father says, startling Pavel who had not known that another presence was now in the room. He continues, “I was just hurt that she didn’t tell me about it before, and besides no father wants to walk in on his daughter doing that. I thought over everything that I said, and I’ve decided that she can stay on the ship. I only have one condition.” Chekov nods his head encouraging the other man to go on. “She can stay as long as there are no more secrets. I want to know when things happen between you.” Pavel nods his head, a smile forming on his face. “Thank you, Bones.” Your father nods at Pavel, before beginning to walk towards the exit. “Oh and Chekov, one more thing.” Bones says turning around to look at your sleeping figure. “Take care of my little girl please.” Pavel looks down at you lovingly before saying “yes sir. I will.”

•IMAGINE: Sam and Dean show up at your door, claiming to be the contractors that arrive late to look at the space you’re wanting to remodel in your newly bought house - the basement. But are they who they say they are? And why does the one in the leather jacket keep staring at you?• ~Dean x reader~

        "The Man with No Eyes" pt 1

You sigh at the floorboards beneath you, knowing that you still have a lot of work to do. The movement makes your hair fall out of your carefully-constructed messy bun. You curse inwardly. No matter how many times you try, you just can’t get your hair to look like the girls’ on Pinterest.

With another great sigh, you bend your knees and with great effort, try to lift your gargantuan industrial clock that you just found for a steal at a local garage sale. You’ve always envisioned it being the centerpiece of the room, mounted on the fireplace brick. You hastily put the clock back down before you hurt yourself, or worse - drop the clock and break it. You’d had it for less than 24 hours and what some would call a decorative monstrosity was already your favorite thing in the house.

You’d been searching for an old fixer-upper and after months and months of searching, there this beautiful old thing sat on your computer screen. The bank had just made it available for sale - and astoundingly it was under budget. Like, really under budget. You figured it was because the house must have needed a lot of TLC inside. You weren’t exactly wrong, but it wasn’t as bad as you’d expected. You brushed it off. This was your dream house, why look too far into it?

You decide to save the clock-mounting for when you had another brave, yet unfounded moment of strength. This was something that those contractors you called over a week ago could be doing - should be doing. With the money you saved on buying the place, you had some left over to hire people to do the hard stuff like mixing drywall and all that mess. These guys came highly recommended on Craigslist, but they hadn’t shown up when they said they would and had yet to return any of your irritated, yet eerily calm calls. You hated confrontation. Of course, now that you think about it, they were off of Craigslist… you kind of set the trap up for yourself on that one.

You plop down on your new couch and look around the room, assessing what was left to do. The curtains needed to be hung since the paint was finally dry. You needed to hook up the TV with all of your devices, the majority of your pictures needed to be hung and you still think you want to switch the furniture around a bit - now that you’ve gotten used to it, you don’t like that chair there. In addition to all of that, you hadn’t even started unpacking the dining room yet. Oh, and you can’t forget to hang that damn clock.

You’re startled out of your mental to-do list by a sudden knock at the door. You blanch. You weren’t expecting company! You’re in some sweatpants that make your butt look big and a probably too-tight ACDC shirt, now that you think about it. You probably needed to get another one, but it’d become your favorite and no one was supposed to be coming over today anyway! Hastily, you check your disheveled reflection in your new mirror by the door and decide that it’s not getting any better than that. You peep through the peep hole and spy two indistinct male forms. You feel nervous answering the door by yourself, but you do anyway after another insistent knock from one of them. You take a deep breath and barely squeak it open, just enough to poke your face through. The chain lock above your head is still secure.

You’re greeted by the sight of two surprisingly attractive guys that calmly smile at you. You suddenly wish you were wearing something more flattering - or that maybe you’d showered. Yeah, showers are good thing to have around hot guys.



They take turns with their informal greetings and flash attractive half-smiles at you. Ugh, their voices were to die for too. Great. You would be looking like a disheveled college student who just rolled out of bed when potential soulmates knock on your door. This would happen to you.

Trying hard not to sound like a flustered idiot, you finally find words.

“Uh, hey,” you greet back unsurely. You look back and forth between them. God, they got hotter by the second. “Do I know you guys?” You’re pretty sure you wouldn’t have forgotten these two.

“Uh, no ma'am, you don’t,” the taller one answers, and you inwardly feel relief. “I’m Sam, and this is Dean.” He motions to the guy beside him, who’s eyes are making your palms sweat.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you respond automatically with a smile. The inner safety freak inside of you reprimands your actions. Why did you just tell two complete strangers standing at your doorway who you are? You push the fear down when you note how… not-aggressive they seem.

There’s a short silence, then Sam speaks up again. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” His eyes flash to Dean and back to you. “We’re here for, uh…”

“To, uh…” Dean tries to help him out. You narrow your eyes. You bet you know who these guys are.

“Are you the contractors that I called forever ago?” you ask, the irritation evident in your voice. The two exchange quick glances and suddenly start nodding.

“Yes, ma'am, yes we are,” Dean states, and for whatever reason you have trouble maintaining eye contact with him. You put your hand over your eyes as a visor, pretending it’s the sunlight glare that’s giving you the trouble.

“Just one second,” you laugh quickly and shut the door. You unslide the chain lock and open the door all the way, stepping out to the edge of the door frame.

You try to ignore the hot blood you feel rushing to your face. Now you’re strictly business. In your sweats. You cross your arms over your chest.

“Well, it would’ve been nice to have a call first, I’ve gotta say,” you glare lightly at them. “What took so long?”

Sam looks at Dean, expecting him to answer, but he’s silent. For a second you think Dean is staring at your boobs and you get really offended, but then he looks up to you with a heart-thumping grin.

“ACDC, huh?” He points at the insignia on your chest.

You look down at your shirt, surprised and embarrassed by the direction your thoughts had taken. “Oh, uh, yeah,” you smile lightly, taken off guard, amused. “I love 80s Rock.”

His facial expression morphs to some pleased, somewhat impressed look, and the satisfaction you feel makes the blood rush to your face even faster. You avoid his gaze and look back to Sam.

You clear your throat, a little awkwardly. “So, what are you guys doing here? I guess you assume that you still have my business after not returning my calls. Are you really that busy?”

Sam swallows uncomfortably. He looks to Dean for assistance again but Dean is silent, hands in pockets, just looking at you with the faintest, almost undetectable smirk on his face. You quickly look away from Dean again and focus on Sam. Sam doesn’t make you as nervous.

“We, uh, apologize for that,” Sam concedes, still trying not-so-subtly to catch Dean’s eye. He sighs, realizing he was on his own. “We had a bit of, uh, a meltdown with our servers back at the office and a lot of our information was just gone, on customers, everything.”

You looked down to his pocket then back up again pointedly. “I guess this server crash magically spread to your phones, too?” Your gall surprises you, you’re normally not confrontational. But the frustration of trying to do a reno alone for over a week now seeps into your tone.

Sam is ready this time. “We were so distracted with it, Y/N, we apologize. We had to, uh, be at the office while it got fixed and, I mean, you know how those things go. But we’re here now. Right, Dean?”

Dean doesn’t even look at him, he’s still watching you. He grunts in agreement. Sam looks a little irritated.

“Well, were you guys planning on doing work today, or…?”

Dean finally speaks. “Well, first we’ve got to scout it out, see what you want done. Just… take a look around.” He peers over your shoulder into the house. You look over your shoulder too, then back at him, a little confused. You sigh, uncrossing your arms and resting your hands on your hips instead.

“Fine,” you concede. “Free consultation, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Dean smirks. “We’ll check out whatever you want.”

You crease your brows at him and suddenly your cheeks feel very red as his words unfurl in your head. You quickly turn and step back, opening the door wide for them. They both step in, their demeanor becoming somehow more serious, or would you call it cautious?

They exchange a look you don’t understand and Sam suddenly asks you, “Ma'am, what space were you interested in remodeling?”

Their demeanors take you a little off guard. “Uh, the basement,” you answer, your brows pulling together. “Do you want me to show you?”

“Lead the way,” Dean grins at you, and you turn away quickly to show them. You can almost feel his eyes. It isn’t an unpleasant feeling but it makes you unexplicably nervous.

You three walk through the living room that was almost complete, through the nonexistent dining room, then to the kitchen where your dad’s old tool belt rested on the counter. You’d managed to remove most of the countertop and a few of the old yellow backsplash tiles but nothing more.

“Have you been doing most of the demo yourself?” Dean asks from behind you. You don’t turn around.

“Unfortunately. I didn’t hear from you guys so I just got started.”

They’re uncomfortably silent. You turn a corner into a small hallway, and there’s the door with the large knob. You noticed the big lock on it when you moved in. It struck you as strange, considering none of the other doors in the house had it. You supposed maybe the original family kept some valuables down there? You tried not to let your imagination run away with you, considering that you had to sleep in this house.

You turn the knob and slowly pull the door open. The stale stench of mildew prickles at your nose. You reach into the dark and flick on the solemn bulb hanging over the old wooden stairs. The bottom of the staircase was dark. Whoever put the light switch for the rest of the space at the bottom was an idiot. You’d only gone down with the realtor. For some reason the thought of venturing into the dark bottom on your own made you uneasy and you generally avoided this part of the house. You turn to the contractors.

“There ya go,” you smile innocently. You stuff your hands in your sweatpants pockets to dry them. The basement made your insides go cold.

“Thanks,” Sam nods, going around you and down the stairs one by one. Dean follows, brushing past you. You catch a whiff of the leather from his jacket and a bit of… what was that, cologne?… as he went past. The scent makes your stomach turn in knots. You try to ignore it.

They reached the bottom of the squeaking staircase and Dean suddenly pulls a flashlight from his jacket pocket. They search until they find the light switch. You stay upstairs and watch them. Although the lights were on, the basement was still dark. Very dark. You didn’t like it. Maybe you’d ask them to add a few windows.

They walk around your unfinished basement, almost as if they’re searching for something instead of just observing. Dean coughs as dust rises from the old bookshelf he had been fingering through. You cross your arms again, but this time because you’re cold.

“Can I help you guys find something?” you ask. Maybe they were looking for old water lines or something. Not that you could help. You never came down here. But hopefully when they get this place fixed up you’ll want to.

“Uh, Y/N, let me ask you a question,” Sam called from the opposite side of the basement. His back was to you. Dean turned to look at him. “Do you ever really come down here?”

You laugh uneasily. “No, I don’t, not really. It’s a little… uncomfortable. I’m hoping after you guys do some work it’ll be more…” You search for words “…cheery.”

Sam suddenly turns, gives Dean another look that you really don’t understand, and then they both turn to you with smiles plastered on their faces. It was disarming.

“Well, Y/N, I think we’ve seen all that we’ve needed to see down here,” Dean tells you. “I’m, uh, gonna need to see the rest of the house.” He quickly answers your questioning look. “I need to look at some, um, electrical connections, stuff like that. For wiring.”

“Sure,” you answer, and for whatever reason the thought of Dean wandering around your unfinished house makes you uncomfortable. Your work so far is less than impressive.

“I’m gonna look around, Sammy. You stay down here and, uh, make sure I didn’t miss anything.”

Sam nods at Dean and flashes you a nervous smile. Dean walks up the staircase towards you, and suddenly your heart is pounding again. Damn. This is no way to feel around someone you’re going to possibly employ. You are the definition of professional, after all. You pride yourself on it. He’s standing in front of you, and you suddenly notice that cologne-like smell isn’t cologne at all. It’s too subtle. It’s just him. It makes your spine tingle and your stomach do somersaults.

“I’m just gonna take a look around,” he tells you again, and his rough voice is low. His eyes are on you and you can’t bring yourself to look away this time. You’re suddenly aware that your breathing is sporadic and you’re begging sweet God above that he doesn’t notice. You open your mouth to answer but it’s caught it your throat. You hastily shut your mouth and settle for a swift nod, again hiding your sweaty hands in your pockets. His lips lift in that half-smirk again and you swallow hard. He’s even more perfect up close. Perfectly chiseled jaw, the faintest hint of a stubble, full lips, bright green eyes that could see right into you. You find yourself wondering why he’s a contractor and not off modeling somewhere. Damn. Your face feels really hot again, this time it spreads down your neck and behind your ears. Suddenly your sweats seem too hot and you want to change.

Dean looks pointedly past you and then to you again, his eyebrows raised, and with painful embarrassment, you realize that you’re in his way. Shit.

“S-Sorry,” you stutter, finally able to look away from his face. You step aside.

He looks at the floor, smiling to himself, then back up to you. He maintains eye contact as he squeezes past you into the kitchen. His scent graces your nose once again and you suddenly feel light-headed. Dean watches you for a moment more with those smoldering green eyes, then smirks and turns to look around the rest of your home. You watch his figure disappear up your stairs.

Holy shit. You’re suddenly thanking Craigslist with every fiber of your being. The air feels so much easier to breathe now that Dean has left the room. Your heart continues to pound but your furious blush begins to subside. You replay his face over and over again in your head. You remember the stare he was giving you at the front door.

You’d never really had a lot of guy experience, just a little here and there. Serial dating wasn’t your thing, unlike some of your friends, so you didn’t have many prior experiences to pair this up with. You did know one thing, however: a simple look from Dean alone made you feel like your heart was about to pop out of your chest and run away. Desire pools deep inside of you as you imagine him closer. Maybe ripping apart your basement, shirtless. You could bring him down water, an excuse to watch him work, even if for just a moment. You swallow loudly, leaning back against the kitchen wall for support.

You grin to yourself. You must’ve done something really great in a past life to have these two in your house right now. What could go wrong?