FRIEND. BLESS you for sending in a Trishica prompt. :D I had entirely too much fun writing this, while smiling like an idiot approximately the entire time, hahaha. I didn’t really edit this because I’m trying this new thing where I don’t OBSESS over every single word, sooooooo hopefully it turned out okay. I really hope you enjoy this! <3 (Written while listening to this gem. Thanks @megross, I’m officially obsessed. Also, LUCY HALE.)
“We’re hiding from the authorities and it’s very close quarters in here, I can feel your body against mine.“
She’s seventeen the first time she realizes she wants to kiss Trish Walker. They’re hunched together in some sort of storage closet, shoulder to shoulder, and Jessica can’t see for shit, but she feels when Trish breathes in, smells the sugar-sweet remnants of a mixed drink lingering on her friend’s exhale.
(Strawberries, she thinks, then shoves the thought violently away.)
“My leg’s asleep,” Trish mumbles in the darkness, elbow digging into Jessica’s ribcage as she shifts slightly.
“Ouch,” Jessica grunts, twisting away as much as she can. “Jesus, you’re bony.”
Trish just laughs. “Okay, you were right. This was officially the worst idea I’ve ever had.”
Original Imagine:Imagine comforting Sam about Jess
Warnings: possibly depression (sadness about death); swearing
Word Count: 1750
You and Dean have been outside for what seems like ages, waiting for Sam to come back from talking to the grandfather of a woman who mysteriously died on his property last week. You are in a town in eastern Massachusetts, right on the coast of the Atlantic. You hadn’t wanted to frighten the old man off, so only Sam had gone in to ask questions.