walking outside is like walking into a mist of hot water

Justin’s New Girl

A/N: Can I get some feedback from this after you read it? Send requests too b. xx

Pairing: Reader x Justin Bieber

Word Count: 1, 904

Warnings: does swearing count> ;)

SummaryJustin has introduced his new girlfriend for the first time to his long-term closest female friend, Y/N, but his girlfriend does not have a keen interest in befriending her.

*

“Raindrop, drop top smokin’ on cookie in the hotbox” I sang in the mist of hoovering my living room over the wooden floorboards. I was too busy dancing with the hoover to the song bad and boujee that I didn’t even notice that my house doors locks were making the sound of keys being jiggled in that would have hinted that it was Justin entering the house, “I see your dancing again y/n” Justin chuckled walking over to the sofa and leaving the keys on the coffee table. “why don’t you do something better like go Livestream on insta” I walked over to where Justin was sitting and sat directly opposite of where he sat to talk to him better. Justin shrugged, “already did that in the morning but I do have something to tell you”

“What’s good?” I replied

“You know all the months I have been out of the Instagram social media limelight right? Well I met someone”

I stood up and walked closer to him, pulling him into a hug, and congratulated him “How long have you been with her and does anyone else know?” I gushed

“First of all I have been with her for like 3 months or so and you’re the only person that knows which leads me to tell you that I want you to meet her for yourself – I need to show her one of the most important people that I know”

“Ok sure but why didn’t you introduce her to your sisters and parents before me?”

“I need to make sure she is the right one before I tell everyone” he explained which I clearly understood.

I was truly happy for Justin having a girl with him but I couldn’t shake the feeling that these LA insta girls don’t seem how they really are but for Justin, I will give her a shot. Tomorrow at the Palm in Downtown LA.

*

After Justin told me that he had a girlfriend I just had to be the supportive best friend and check out her Instagram page that revealed her name was Asia Eliwood. This Asia must be about twenty years old judging by her nurtured skin. Asia was an Instagram model with over 900K followers that were interested in liking her beach pictures that exposed her toned abs on her beautifully tanned body. She was Justin’s Type. Today I was going for the casual look consisting of slick black straight hair, black two piece dress that followed my black heels and a pair of diamond-encrusted earrings.

The restaurant was surprisingly full for a hot Friday afternoon, the soft reclined chairs and oak wooden tables were used by many new customers. The waiter came returned with a menu, looking at the menu I decided to pick out a Caesar salad with prawns as a starter and for the main meal, a Pepperoni pizza with a glass of coke with sliced lemon.

Minutes later…

I fidgeted, adjusting the strap of my dress and reapplying another coat to my already red lips. With nothing else to do, I let myself soak in the ambient music for a few moments, wondering what the words to say when Justin and his girlfriend arrive then drinking water in the vanilla fragranced air. From the corner of my eye, I realized a slim figured female stood beside the table;  I glanced up at her face and stood up.

“Y/N right?” she said

“You must be Asia, nice to meet you” I began walking closer to her to pull her into a hug which she happily agreed. It was fair to say that she was even more beautiful as she was on her Instagram account and really knew her angles, her green eyes, and long wavy jet black hair complimented her faux feathered grey jacket over her tightly fitted turtleneck shirt with black jeans whereas Justin dressed in a black slim fit suit and tie for this casual occasion. Justin made his way to me and pulled me in a soft embrace as a sign of common friendliness between us then pulled out a seat for Asia before sitting down on the chair opposite to me.

“So y/n how long have you known Justin bear?” Asia asked

“nearly 4 years now, he is like a brother to me in all honesty so you better look after him good” I chuckled clearing the air without realising that this Asia rolled her eyes and showed off her dimpled fake smile that Justin loved, Justin remained in his seat and turned over to the window overlooking the summery spring lighting that was covered by groups of fans waving over for him to come over. “Asia, Y/N the fans want what they want but I will come back in a second” Justin stood up and pecked Asia on the temple before leaving the restaurant to entertain the fans clambering outside the restaurant.

“It’s so fucking annoying how these fangirls think that they actually have a chance with Justin bear” laughed Asia, sipping from her wine bottle looking back at Justin currently taking photos with fans and laughing along at whatever Joke a petite brown skinned girl with a high puff that framed her heart shaped face – her face said it all that she was serious and partly intimidated by the girls she was talking about. “Anyway Asia you look so good in that outfit you probably workout like 5 times a week right?”

“I have a personal trainer that helps so most of the credit goes to him and it helps that he is fine as fuck but in 2 months or so he can fix you up y/n”

“oh really?” I laugh joining in on her so-called joke

“I’m serious babe; you need all the help you can get” Asia flashed her million dollar smile and moved on to her salad and scrolled through her phone leaving me dumbstruck on did she actually say this as a joke? Or did the bitch mean that she was serious? She was on strike 2 after bitching about the fans that initially loved her because of her large following before they started dating which lead them to believe that she was a ‘genuine’ person that ‘does not want him for his money’ or the ‘fame’ along with it. I started gathering up my things removed myself from the awkward situation then pushed a $20 note for my half of the bill and walked out of the restaurant in time as Justin walked back in.

Justin’s face showed concern as he looked own ant my bawled fists  - a trait I have when angry or pissed off that he noticed during our  4 years of friendship, “Y/N why aren’t you inside with Asia, she really likes you”

“Justin as your best friend It is in my best interest to tell you that Asia Eliwood is not only a bitch but also an anti-belieber one too.”

“sure and that’s why she took photos with the fans 2 days ago” Justin sarcastically replied

“Don’t play that game with me Justin, ask your dumbass girlfriend what she thinks about the fangirls which believe they have a chance with you and get back to me” I managed not to snap and moved away from the fans recording the altercation and walked back to all white Mercedes to go home.

-

*A week later

It has been days since Justin and I have stopped talking because of his stiff and stuffy girlfriend and her insecurities between mine and Justin’s friendship so when Justin surprisingly facetimed me to tell me that he doesn’t want to lose this friendship and wanted to come over, shocked was the last word to say at the least. Finishing the last burrito in my minimalist stone marble countertops, the small ringing sounds of the doorbell played I open the door allowing Justin in and closing the door, however, the blockage of soft moisturized blue acrylic nails that belonged to ‘all so famous Asia Bitchywood’

Justin is the closest friend I have so because of that I had to let Asia I, even if she was from the pit of hell. In attempt to break off the ice I smiled at Justin which Asia followed with a sly snarl and a raised eyebrow for the classic bitch please move – She messed with the wrong one

“Sorry darling is there an issue?” I chuckled inching closer to her face and not caring that Justin was in the same room as both of us

Asia smirked knowing that with Justin here she could be the innocent looking one, “I don’t have one y/n”

“I’m sorry, have we met? Because I’m pretty sure I would’ve remembered a bitch like you.” It was too much for me not to say something to that stuck up bitch even if Justin and I are losing the friendship bond AGAIN because of her! Faced with no other option Justin grabbed my arm and pulled me into the kitchen from the hallway. It was the only time since last week that I analyzed his facial expression when he put 2 and 2 together that maybe I and Asia do not appreciate each other’s company

Justin’s face was laced with confusion and heartbreak as he whispered, “I don’t know why you’re acting like this y/n but I really like this girl and she is trying to be your friend! Why can’t you just try as much as she does?”

Raising my eyebrows I faced away from him and began walking paces away from him “I don’t like her because your so perfect girlfriend told me to stop being friends with you” It was clear that Justin was not only baffled by what I just told him but from his shaking fingers that accompanied with his head he couldn’t believe this. “You have a fucking problem” Justin sighed and rubbed his temple

“Me have a problem? It was never an issue with us when she talked about my weight and your fans that treat me better that you” I shouted and walked towards the fridge to pull out a can of coke for me, Justin and the ungrateful hoe standing in the middle of the hallway alone.

“But she never said it y/n” argued Justin

“Let’s get this over and done with because Khalil is coming over for a chill session Justin”

Justin let out an exasperated sigh and called over Asia into the kitchen to the island for all of us to be faced with each other once again, “Asia you and y/n need to figure out your beef for me ok baby?”

Asia nodded and puckered her lips for Justin to kiss making me feel like the 3rd wheel in my own house but if this bitch wants to play  like that ok “Justin maybe to patch all my so called lies up why don’t we double date me, you, Avasia and Khalil?” I asked

“Asia y/n ayyy-shhh-aaa” smirked Asia crossing her arms with a sour expression

Justin smiled at the thought of proving to you that not only is Asia worthwhile but she isn’t a hater too, “Done deal y/n I’ll text you the date on the group chat I’m out”

Waving goodbye to Justin and Asia as they left the house I closed the door and focused on Khalil to talk things over. This was going to be fun.

Haylen is too damn loyal for her own good.

That’s one downside of learning from Danse. He inspires the kind of personal loyalty that isn’t good for a Brotherhood soldier, something that goes beyond loyalty to your commander. The moment Danse was discovered to be a synth, he stopped being a Paladin and Haylen’s commanding officer. And yet Haylen remained loyal to him, loyal to Danse the individual, not Danse the commanding officer or Danse the brother-in-arms.

Rhys doesn’t understand how she can do it. Not only did she risk her own neck helping Danse escape, she’s still risking her neck sneaking messages to and from him. She thinks Rhys doesn’t notice, hasn’t noticed the holotapes that she opens on the terminals and then wipes immediately after, typing in her own message on the freshly-blanked holotape before ejecting it hastily and sliding it in her boot.

She doesn’t trust Rhys enough to tell him. Or maybe she’s just trying to keep him safe from the secret. If he doesn’t know, he can’t be implicated too. That seems a little more like Haylen, actually, but she also hears Rhys unflinchingly speak curses with his fellow soldiers when the topic of Danse comes up. He snarls his disgust the same way they do, disbelief at the synth could slip between the cracks, for so long.

He hates himself for saying it. But he can’t really leave the Brotherhood, can he? What else does he have? What else does Danse have, for that matter? It’s a thought that haunts Rhys, knowing that Danse’s world revolved around the Brotherhood as much as his own does. The new knight-turned-paladin, the de facto replacement for Danse (even though nobody says it, nobody makes any official change for the commander of Recon Squad Gladius) is taking care of him, as far as he can tell from the sneaking glances he’s gotten from Haylen’s exchanged holotapes.

Haylen’s going to get herself killed if she keeps that up. What the hell is Rhys supposed to do then?


Someone catches on, eventually.

Rhys is in the vicinity by sheer accident, actually, as Haylen’s arm is grabbed and she makes a panicked grab for the holotape yanked out of her hands. At first Rhys is furious at the sheer audacity that anyone, much less one of their own, would lay their hands on her like that, but his anger turns to terror as he realizes what’s going on. The knight gripping her arm doesn’t see Rhys from this angle.

It’s almost too easy to shove the knight off of Haylen and put himself between her and the knight. He can’t grab at the holotape in the other knight’s hand, but his own barked demand as to what they think they’re doing is enough to give them pause.

“She aided the synth that infiltrated our ranks.

Rhys has never been exactly all that gifted in the art of bullshitting. Haylen can’t see his face when he goes very still and she seems to think that Rhys is about to turn on her too; she begs Rhys to let her explain, but the knights in front of him already can tell that Rhys doesn’t need an explanation.

It’s definitely too easy when he takes a swing at the knight holding the holotape.


“Nobody saw anything, but we need to get off the Prydwen now.”

“We can’t take a vertibird down,” Haylen says, the panic rising in her voice. “Rhys- they’ll ask us why, they won’t just let us leave.”

“Then we find another way down,” he replies, wracking his brain for a different plan. He wishes that Kells had positioned the Prydwen a little bit closer to the water rather than directly over the airport, because even at this height maybe they could have jumped into the water and suffered a broken leg or two instead of completely disintegrating against the concrete.

Jumping into the water wouldn’t have worked anyway. The only way down is through a vertibird or jumping.

Wait.

“We need a suit of power armor for you,” Rhys says suddenly. “The paladin’s suit is always on the Prydwen, it hardly ever gets used. It’s not a perfect fit, but-”

“What? Oh my god, we’re not fighting our way through the ship,” Haylen answers, on the verge of tears.

“We aren’t fighting. We’re getting off the ship.”

“What? What do you mean-”

Rhys doesn’t wait to explain. He drags her along immediately, knowing that every moment they stall is a moment longer for someone to set off the alarm. He has his own power armor, and getting into that isn’t exactly suspicious, but Haylen getting into the paladin’s armor? Very much so.

“Get in, and if anyone says anything just run,” Rhys whispers in her ear. He climbs into his own armor easily enough but Haylen takes a moment to make sure she’s not pinching or catching any of herself in the locking mechanisms.

An aspirant starts to walk in their direction.

Rhys grabs for Haylen’s armored arm.

“What are you doing with-”

He starts to run.

He feels somewhat bad for blindsiding a scribe in his haste to get the fuck out, but this is a little more important. Someone yells for them to stop, but Rhys doesn’t hear the words at all. Haylen’s legs aren’t doing a great job keeping up while encased in the heavy metal but she’s keeping up without tripping.

They make it to the back of the ship with at least four people hot on their heels. A pistol gets drawn from behind them and Rhys sees the laser fly past his head.

“Haylen, JUMP!”

Haylen doesn’t even bother trying to climb over the railing; she takes an enormous leap over the railing with both feet, and Rhys watches her plunge just before he does the same.


Rhys swears softly to himself, and wonders if he’s fucked up his leg beyond repair somehow considering that the pain in it won’t go away.

Haylen is doing her best to support his weight but it’s exhausting to walk and have someone lean on you at the same time. Rhys tries to keep his weight off of her, but she keeps pulling him closer whenever he starts to drift. Damn the hydraulics on his power armor, they had to fail the one time he needed them to hold up. Without it Rhys knows he would have shattered both of his legs, but it’s still irritating him that it didn’t work the way it was supposed to. And now he’s stuck with this limp that Haylen has to help him with.

“Almost there,” she tells him. The sun is starting to dip lower into the sky, somewhere beyond the broken buildings of the Commonwealth.

In the distance, Rhys can see the stone walls of Fort Independence. The Castle, everyone calls it now though, and while it’s not quite the regal fortress that the word brings to mind, it’s still impressive. The walls look like they could probably take some very strong hits, maybe even a few missiles.

They’re close enough now that Rhys can make out the forms of people, somewhat obscured by the dimming sun and the mist from the ocean. The light in the lookout tower in front of the Castle’s land-facing entrance flickers on, and someone’s shadowy form hurries down the outside steps and dashes to meet them.

Danse looks much different without the Brotherhood uniform. Now he wears the same clothing that the other Minutemen do, including the hat that he’s removed at the moment. There’s a crude-looking laser weapon strapped to his back, something that looks suspiciously like someone took apart a laser pistol and attached some wood parts to it.

“Haylen? Rhys?” he asks in disbelief. “You’re injured, what happened-?”

“We may or may not have jumped off of the Prydwen in power armor, sir,” Rhys admits immediately. Danse’s face blanches, probably at the jumping part but also at the “sir” part. Rhys reminds himself not to call Danse that anymore.

“I was caught,” Haylen adds, trying to shift the blame off of Rhys. “We couldn’t get down with a vertibird.”

“You need a doctor,” Danse says. “Here.”

He easily lifts Rhys up into his arms, and Rhys suppresses the undignified squawk that almost leaves his throat.

“It’s not that bad,” he protests, but Danse doesn’t let him down and he’s already being carried toward the doors. A few Minutemen question them, but Danse only replies with a curt “they’re with me” and the questions stop.

“It’s good to see you again,” Rhys says. He buries the old habit of “sir” somewhere deep, and replaces it with something more personal. “Danse.”

“It’s good to see you again too, Rhys,” Danse replies, and his grip tightens for just a moment.

anonymous asked:

Hello! Can I ask a smut with GOT7 Jackson and a dark skin girl? I would love it if you could make it about them doing it in a setting where they're supposed to be quiet so that they don't get caught (ex: in the dorm with other members around; backstage; recording studio. just some ideas but it doesn't have to be lol) Thank you~

“I feel like we shouldn’t have come back to the dorms this late Jackson.” >>> said as Jackson closed the door behind them, and grabbed her hand.

“No, it’s fine trust me. As long as we don’t wake JB or Jinyoung we should be ok.” They had been out eating and drinking, and although she was only slightly tipsy, she was quite sure Jackon was a little more turnt that he admitted.

“JB might get mad that I’m sleeping here.” She whispered, as Jackson stopped at the fridge grabbing two water bottles.

“No, no hyung is a good guy. We have been drinking and he would want us to come here. Besides, I’m not drunk, just a little tipsy. You on the other hand.” He raised an eyebrow at her, and she stopped dancing in the kitchen long enough to sneer at him.

“I am not. I was pretending so you wouldn’t feel lonely.” He grabbed her hand once more, and slowly walked into the living room.

So, perhaps she was mistaken then. Giggling, as she noticed Youngjae was still awake, his back turned to them as he quietly cursed at his video game, keys rapidly sounding off as he pressed them.

“If you’re trying to be quiet you are doing a horrible job.” Youngjae said just as they made it past him. He never moved still clacking on keys, his mouse hand moving a mile a minute. 

Steering her to the bathroom, Jackson clicked on the light and closed the door behind them. “We should shower and then get into bed, I know Mark is sleeping so we should be quiet in there too.” He reached over to turn on the shower, the sound of the water loud and he was talking normally now. “Get undressed.” 

She felt shy all of a sudden. She’d been naked in front of Jackson before sure, but now when he just demanded it of her? He was already taking off his shirt tossing it into a small hamper with a J on it. 

“How do you not get confused which is yours or Jinyoung’s?” JB’s hamper had his initials on it. 

“Mine is blue, his is black.” He said taking off his jeans. 

She chuckled. “Like his soul?” Hands still on the bottom of her shirt, as Jackson threw her a glance, smirking. 

“Don’t let him hear you say that, he already won’t stop talking about that ‘poor excuse for a cake’ you made.” Jackson was standing in his boxers, looking at his face in the mirror. 

Hands on her hips now she gasped. “What did he say! You said it was good!” 

Jackson shrugged. “It was good to me…not to everyone else. Baby, don’t be mad you know the guys wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings! Especially not Youngjae.” 

She held her hand to her heart. So that’s why BamBam would laugh and call her a wannabe Betty Crocker. She thought it was a compliment. “I thought Youngjae was my friend.” 

“Can you stop worrying about your biscuit tasting cake, and get in the shower with me! I’m tired.” He walked over to her and pulled her shirt over her head roughly. 

“Ok, now see that’s uncalled for.” She tried to push him away as he pulled her jeans down her legs, slapping her thighs for her to step out of them. 

Leaving her to the rest Jackson kept his back to her as he let his boxers fall off his thick thighs and onto the floor. She couldnt help but to stare. He was gorgeous, tanned, lean body with that perfect amount of muscle on his body. He stretched his back and she swore, he had wings. He stepped over the little lip and into the shower, looking at her through the glass. 

He removed the shower head and sprayed his face and body, letting it spray his head. As she undressed, he was soaping a rag and washing his chest, she stepped into the warm mist of the shower and shivered compared to the cold outside the shower. Jackson switched places with her, letting her in the spray of hot water as he washed his body. Her eyes never left his form, the way he rag touched his arms, how the swirl of bubbles moved over his chest. The way his muscles stretched over his thighs as he bent down to rub at his legs. The firm muscle of his ass as he turned his back to her to wash his manhood. 

By the time he was done, she hadn’t realized her mouth was open in a small ‘o’ and he was talking to her. 

“>>>, do you want to use soap or BamBam’s body wash? He won’t mind I’m sure, he always smells nice.” Her throat was parched and she closed her mouth. 

“I’ll use the body wash.” He rinsed the rag handing it to her as he rinsed himself off. 

God, he was so impossibly good looking without even trying. How did she get so lucky? She squeezed the body wash into the rag and began to soap her skin, still watching his back contort and move as he rinsed off. Once he was done, he switched spots with her again, but this time she felt his hands come up her arms, and rub the soap into her skin. 

“Didn’t think I saw you watching me huh?” His hands on her sienna colored skin, he moved his lips to the back of her neck. 

She took a deep breath, biting her lower lip when his hand came in between her legs, well now he knew. “Jackson…” she said slowly, as his fingers dipped into her folds doing a scissor kick. 

“Here’s the evidence.” She placed a hand on his forearm, leaning her head back on his shoulder, as his fore and middle fingers found their way inside her. 

His thumb kept pressure on her clit, moving, pushing, thrusting inside her. It felt good, her body was already on edge from imagining a few dirty scenarios in her mind. 

His teeth found her earlobe and slowly bit down. “Keep quiet or everyone will hear you.” 

He was playing a dirty game, one hand reaching up he turned the water on massage. The hard blasts right on her breasts, small and perky, the water hit on her nipples creating a new sensation. Mixed with the rising tide of orgasm coming from between her legs, and Jackson’s husky voice in her ear, his tongue around her earlobe she couldn’t hold it in. He was holding her though, one hand around her waist as she let go of everything she knew in this world to come undone in his arms. 

Sneaking back into the room he shared with Mark, she wore nothing but a long shirt of Jackson’s, her hair in a messy bun on her head. Thank god he had a silk wrap, and helped her tie it around her head in the darkness as they slipped into bed. 

“No kiss?” Jackson asked, as he pressed his pelvis into her butt. 

“Go to sleep, Mark might wake up.” She pushed her butt against him, still aware that he didn’t earn a reward from the shower episode.

“He sleeps kinda deep. One kiss, that’s all I want.” His arms around her waist, he squeezed her tight, wrapping one of his legs around her thigh. 

Sighing, she turned in his arms, her own arm squished against her chest as she smiled in the darkness. “You get on my nerves.” 

Jackson let his lips touch her gently. “Didn’t say that five minutes ago.” She tried to bite his lip but he licked at her tongue. 

“One more.” Kissing her chin this time. 

“No, sleep.” He didn’t listen though, claiming her lips again and this time, he wrapped his leg fully around her, pressing his hardened length against the folds of her body. 

He could be insanely convincing, letting his tongue wrap around her own as his waist did a shimmy dance, that had her legs open and him in a prime spot to push his way in. He teased her, rubbing his tip against her folds as he rubbed his tongue around in her mouth, sucking on her lips. 

“Can you be quiet?” He asked, his lips hovering over her nose. 

“Not in here, please don’t, let’s just sleep.” Her voice was needy, she wanted this, he knew when she didn’t. The way she was putty in his arms now, how she leaned her head back so he could access her neck. 

“You sure, I’ll just put in the tip just to be sure.” How he moved when he held her, that’s how he always got her. 

“Just the tip.” She let her leg lift up just enough so he could thrust and get inside. 

She felt herself shiver, goosebumps breaking out over her flesh as he breathed heavily in her face. Heart racing, she groaned softly, wondering if the ticking of the clock on the wall was as loud as she thought it was. 

Jackson took a deep breath, rocking his hips, as his arm came around the back of her neck. “Just a little more?”

A small squeal left her lips. “A little more.” 

A little turned out to be alot, as he seated himself fully within her. She felt the delicious burn of stretched flesh, and the warm heavy feeling inside her, he was so thick and that was only half of what she loved about him. She felt him draw his hips back, and shove deep, she wanted to sprawl on the bed and let him fuck her, like she really wanted to do. She wanted him to hold her tight in his arms, feel his muscles clench as he grabbed her. Lay her back on his chest and let him have his way. But silence was the word of the night, stillness was what they had to accomplish, all noise muted. Could she hold in this bated breath? This scream that was caught in her throat as Jackson ground his pelvis right into her creating a sensual massage against her clit. How loud were his breaths? He was breathing through his nose, right into her ear, whispering right near her eardrum. 

Come for me

Give me a little sound

Let me feel you

I’m gonna come, do you want it?

Tell me you want it

He never played fair, and she had to say something or he’d stop. 

“Yes, don’t stop.” She breathed out, nails in his back just as he went rigid and she blew out small breaths trying to contain her orgasm. 

In the aftermath of untangling limbs, and stretching sore legs, she settled once more her back to his chest, the stickiness between her thighs would be a problem for morning as he took a deep breath and let it out. 

He rubbed at her arms, settling into sleep as he whispered. “See we can be quiet.” 

It was a few minutes later that they heard Mark clear his throat. “Our definition of quiet is two different things.” 


lol I had fun writing this! Jackson is one of my favorite people to write for because he’s so real! He’s so versatile, and it’s easy to stay true to who he is and his personality. I actually really like this and I hope you guys do too!

Oswald x Reader- Sleeping Beauty (Rated M for super smut)

So the amazing, beautiful @oswald-cobblepot-addicted sent me a prompt and this is what happened! Please read the warnings on this as it may not be to everyone’s taste


WARNING- READER SLEEPING, OSWALD MASTURBATING OVER READER (OSWANK),BLOWJOB, TAKING PHOTOS, CREEPY OSWALD,SMUT, FILTH, SO CREEPY OSWALD BAD PINGU!! PANTY SNIFFING, BREAKING INTO HOUSE, OKAY YOU WERE WARNED

Originally posted by raininginthenight




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Hedda Pt. 2

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.


Hedda Pt. 2
-
The fox and the queen.

Pairing: Ivar x OFC
Rating for chapter: T
Warnings: Small amount of violence and strong language.
Note: I have absolutely no life.
Reminder of that my English could be a thousand times better so I’m sorry for simple language and mistakes.
Wanna get a tag? Please tell.

FYI I imagine this being like between Ragnar went off and coming back. I dunno I will probably make som shit up along the way but I guess I like the idea of many of them still being alive. *sob*


Chapter 2.
- The fox and the Queen.


Two days. Two days of waking up, washing off quickly before being sent off to be interrogated by the queen.

Then eat, hiding away from whoever visited the great hall and then endure supper with the queen’s family just to hide in bed until next morning.

Two days isn’t that much. Two days is absolutely nothing yet I can’t help but to feel it’s been more like two weeks.

I’m not told to hide away. Aslaug have tried finding out things I like to do and offered me to spend time with her. But I don’t.

I chose to hide away from her prying eyes and questions the same each day.

I listen to the howling winds and the brave birds defying the cold when the sun had honored us with its  presence this morning.

“He is out the stables with the others.” Aslaug said when I stood before her beside the hearth, asking about the horse who had carried me here.

“Can I see him?” I don’t know the horse yet there’s a little part in me that hopes the horse may know me. He must truly be faithful carrying me here through the storms.

Aslaug’s golden eyebrows rise when she’s utterly surprised I ask for something that is not to be left alone.

“I don’t see why not, I guess he is still yours.” She shrugs, nodding for Ida to come closer where she was stuffed away in a corner.

She hadn’t been here yesterday so I was happy when it was her helping me get dressed this morning.

“Thank you.” I try a smile, tasting the imply that the horse may not be mine. Who’s horse would it be if not mine in this place?

“Show Hedda to the stables and her horse. Dress properly, we don’t want our guest to get sick, now do we?” She smiles sly like the female fox she reminds me so much of.

I owe her yet I have the constant need looking over my shoulder whenever she isn’t right in front of me.

“Oh and Hedda!” The queen calls when I follow Ida to get dressed for the deep snow outside. “There’s a gathering tonight, it would be a pleasure to have you out here with us.” She sips the mead filling the room with sweet honey and clenching my jaws I nod. It wasn’t a question.

With the cloak and the furs tightly around me I follow Ida through the paths in the snow and I’m surprised to see so many people outside.

The sun is hurting my eyes when its light reflects in the snow and I hide inside the hood of the cloak as much as possible to escape it: that end possible curious eyes.

My breath turns to mist in front of me and I listen to the crunch of frosty snow, shouting people and the waves breaking in the distance; the fjord never asleep.

“He’s in here. I will have to go back but you find your way now, yes?” Ida stops outside a low building; the rich and warm smell of horse so evident in the crisp air a smile plays over my lips.

“Yes, thank you.” I let her pass me before entering the dark house; the smell of warm life stronger inside.

I stop inside the door to let my eyes adjust to the loss of daylight and then I start to scan the row of horses along one wall.

I remember him briefly but only through dreams of when I came here.

“Black like night.” I mumble for myself when I walk past the slumbering horses; tired by standing inside all day and the sound of hay chewed slowly could probably put myself to sleep if I just let it.

Then I see him, lifting his massive head when hearing me approach and the black, wise eyes leaves no doubt that this is the animal that took me here.

“Hello.” The pink and soft skin of his muzzle tickles the palm of my hand when offering it to him.

The large and heavy hooves stomps the floor when I run my hand along the muscular neck and I’m pleased to see he’s groomed and fed.

“Do you remember me?” I coo, scratching his forehead softly and a low humming sound is heard. “I’m sorry I don’t remember you.” I tell him.

I lean my forehead against his neck where I keep up the scratching and softly he nudges my shoulder.

“Does he answer your questions?” The sudden addition of voice have me jump and the black horse whips with his head where I must’ve startled him.

Turning I can see Hvitserk, the queens son and as if touching something that wasn’t mine I hide my hands under the fur covered cloak.

“No. No he doesn’t.” I gulp, looking to the animal tending to the hay when realizing there was nothing to be afraid of.

“A good horse. Must’ve belonged to someone important.” Walking up to us he pats the broad back of the animal and I back away until I can feel the wall brushing the clothes on my body.

“Perhaps I was important.” My words come out a bit harder than intended but I don’t enjoy the fact that they take for granted I was no one.

“Perhaps.” He smiles as if my remark was just a joke and I chew the inside of my cheek.

“He likes you. He’s been cranky with most people I’ve heard.” He pats the horse again and I stare to the animal not showing any tendency to be cranky at all. Then I grin.

“Perhaps they weren’t important enough?” He laughs at that, nodding in approval.

“May be. It must be your horse. Black like a raven and don’t liking people interfering too much.” A knowing glance is offered me and I huff; feeling a little brave when I allow myself to shrug.

“Do you? Do you like people prying and interfering?” I ask in a soft bite and the young man sighs before attempting to leave.

“I’m not a stranger here who came under odd circumstances. I don’t think anyone tries to bother you. But truly you must wonder yourself if you don’t remember.” He walks away before finishing talking and I stare after him where he grabs a rope and aims for the door.

He’s right I guess. I do wonder and so must the people around me do as well. I can’t blame them for being curious and even suspicious.

“But it would be nice not to be asked questions at any given chance.” I whisper to the horse before giving him a firm pat on the neck.

“Arkan. That’s what I will call you until I remember your name, if you were even mine to name.” I leave with that, the horse offering me no memories.

_______

The flower grows so quickly, like time was running away from something and the snow around it pulls back as if it had been hot fire.

Swords flying upright, no hands around the leather of their handles switching places in the middle of the air.

I’m on my back in the mud, a strange sensation of intense pleasure running through me like a river but I’m aware of the spilled blood in the mud being swirled around by my fingers.

A man, hair white like snow and the furs around him turning him into a wolf with jaws snapping at me. The blood from his yellow teeth dripping down my pleasured body in the cold mix of mud and blood.

A fox running by in the forests, telling me all I need to know in a tongue I don’t remember. A raven flying with the former color of my blind eye in his beak.

“Hedda, wake up!” A fierce shake and I sit straight up with sweat running from my hairline and it stings my eyes. “Please, are you alright?”

Ida’s pale eyes scans me worriedly and with a heaving chest I can feel my mind slowly lower itself from the dream and land inside my body awake in the bed.

“I had a dream.” I whisper, running a hand through my hair and when my lips try to find some moist to wet my throat with Ida hands me a cup of water. “Thank you.”

“Ida, leave us.” The sudden appearance of Aslaug in the doorway have us both jump in our seats and I groan where some of the water spills on my chest.

“Yes.” Ida stands, bowing her head obediently before rushing through the door, passing the queen dressed in such an amazing dress I for a second forget how to do anything but staring.

“You’ve been dreaming again, child.” She says calmly before walking over and she sits on the edge of the bed, taking the cup from my shaking hands and puts it aside.

I frown, causing a soft smile to play on her lips and the spirit of a caring mother surrounds me.

“I have been too.” She adds, bending forward so she can look into my eyes, being tall and majestic before me.

Her hair glimmers in the soft light from the candles in the room and the scent from sweet oils is pouring out from her exquisite clothes.

“Don’t we all dream?” I blurt out when looking down to my restless fingers on top of the blankets covering the lower part of my body and I try to get the feeling of missing something, away.

“Not like we do. That is something not everyone do.” She explains as if I would understand and I tilt my head to the side, trying to find the hidden meaning in her words playfully beating around the bush.

“What do you mean?” I’m not sure I want the answer, my entire being vibrating with unease and suspicion.

“You have seen child. You have seen what is to come. I have too.” Her smile vanishes and her eyes are filled with sympathy instead.

My brows lower themselves where I slowly shake my head, huffing in an attempt to get the sudden and unexplainable fear to leave me alone.

I am to tell her she have no idea of what I’ve been dreaming, but her words cuts me off like a hot blade.

“The pleasure, the raven with your past and the man a wolf. I have seen it and I have seen it before you came here. So have you.” She stands up, her hands running along the soft material of her dress before she walks over to the chest before empty. Now something is neatly put on top of it.

“But how-” I stop myself. She’s been dreaming the same dream? That is the only explanation I find for her to know about the raven and the man. “What does it mean then?”

She turns, the blue fabric on the chest now hanging over her arm as she walks back to me.

For a second she seem to think about it herself before with a sigh she extends her free hand for me to take.

“I truly don’t know child. But we will understand more when spring comes and perhaps some if you remember.” I take her hand, allowing her to help me out of the bed.

When spring comes. The flower, was that the spring?

I keep on thinking about her words when she helps me change to the blue and simple but to me much beautiful dress.

Sitting down I constantly prepare myself for asking her questions when she braids my hair but stopping myself every time I think I know how to ask; realizing I don’t.

If she knew I dreamt like she did, perhaps that is why she has been so keen to keep me close and attend me so much herself. Perhaps she was waiting for me to tell her.

But I didn’t knew I had these dreams and I’m not sure how she knows. But for some reason I simply trust her, knowing just a little deep back in my mind about these things.

______

There was indeed a gathering of both important people and them of lesser importance. However with the ale, mead and seasoned stag roasting over the fire everyone were equal when laughing and talking.

Sometimes there was shouts in the wake of a brawl but all were taken outside in the snow or stopped entirely.

I have had the fear of being center of attention but the great number of souls in the hall made me very uninteresting for them not close enough to see my eye or remembering the talked about presence of the mysterious girl I apparently was.

I look around the hall, sipping my ale and for the first time I actually feel a bit at ease and even though I don’t remember anything a feeling of things being just the way they should, rolls inside of me like a soft wave on the lake.

Their faces had been red from the cold when coming and now they were red from vigorous drinking. I could even feel my own face pick up in temperature.

“Thank you.” I smile to Margrethe filling my cup once more before she sways off to fill others. I notice Hvitserk’s eyes upon her as she passes him and I’ve noticed the oldest of the four brothers doing the same. How is that working out for them?

“I’m pleased to see the dress matching your eyes.” The queen suddenly speaks up above me and I look behind my shoulder to where she’s situated in one of the great chairs dressed in soft furs.

Even though I felt enough invisible amongst the people I hade made sure to place myself near the queen. I hadn’t moved around more than necessarily in fear of losing my spot.

For some reason our earlier talk pulled me closer to her. However she would always be remembered as the fox queen by me.

“It is a most generous gift.” I smile, nodding grateful before someone pushes my legs to the side and when looking down to my feet I can see her youngest son crawl his way forward, lifting himself up beside me.

He sits down with a sigh before grinning; his blue eyes darting between me and his mother.

“Her eye mother, she only has color in one.” He corrects her mercilessly and my jaws clench where I straighten up in my seat.

“Ivar, please.” Aslaug rolls her eyes motherly but her voice laced with such soft love I doubt she even knew how hurtful he could be.

“At least it matches that one.” I glare at him but he only laughs amused and I look away.

It had only taken me two days to realize just how obnoxious this one could be. Always coming with snide and mean remarks about everything and everyone whenever given the chance.

He was quick to tantrums and blooming anger that spread through the entire building like a wildfire whenever defied or spoken against.

Yet; there was this little sprout of belonging whenever he was close to me. Whenever he sat beside me making fun of me or not, it always felt as if this was the most natural place to be.

I try hardly to deny that sensation is never close whenever i sit beside his brothers or others.

“It is a shame there is so many not able to come because of the snow. We use to be many more than this, Hedda.” Aslaug informs me as if to pull me from the annoyance I dwell in because of her son.

I smile towards her, avoiding the snarling grin of Ivar where he trace his lower lip with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh I am not so sure it is the snow, mother. Perhaps they are too afraid of one-eye here to come.” He tilts his head to the side, smiling challengingly.

“What am I to fear?” I huff before answering his smile with an equal challenging one where I hide my face behind my cup.

“Or do you fear me, Ivar?” The ale makes me stupid I know but it felt good to punch him back with my words. However it just seem to fuel his fire so needy to pick a fight.

“They do not fear you and I am sure it is the snow keeping them at home.” The queen is skillfully ignored by both me and Ivar where we stare each other down; but I am taken aback slightly where he leans closer so that his breath fans the side of my face. The blush I had before escalates to the point my hairline burns.

“Some say it is because your eye look like the seers. They say you know things that is not for a girl like you to know.” He whispers just loud enough for me to hear over the loud people around us. I gulp at the naive theory of who and what I might be.

“If that is what my eye meant I most likely would know who I am, no?” I snort before drinking again; the ale doing nothing to cool me down.

I look back to the queen looking at us with a smile of knowledge, as if she knew something that was still hidden from me.

“But do you know what I think that ugly little eye of yours means, hm?” I can hear how he rolls his wicked tongue in his mouth and with a blank face I stare at him with a sigh.

“No Ivar but please do tell.” I try to look as bored as possible. He snickers proudly as if I walked straight into a trap.

“I think you are simply running away from something you didn’t want. Your eye has the color of a mans seed so perhaps you were just a simple little whore, taking too much of it until it filled that little head of yours.” I can feel his one finger poking my head so hard it moves.

“But coming here won’t change that. That is what I think. The only difference here would be the men you bed.” His voice so condescending and mocking his words takes my breath away.

The sudden anger shooting through me tingles the tips of my fingers and with a snarl deep back in my throat I turn my upper body to face him at the same time as I send the back of my hand flying over his cheek.

With a smacking sound pain stings my skin and his head flies to the side. The entire hall slowly growing silent when word of it spread quickly like a squirrel.

I breath heavily where I stare to my hurting hand and then Ivar, sitting with a gaping mouth like a dead fish; only his chest heaving like mine.

What did I do? Hitting someone because of a stupid insult born out of what must be nothing but low self esteem is below my idea of myself. And hitting Ivar..

Then someone opened the doors to Hel and released all the said terrors.

He threw his body at me, knocking me off my seat so easily and my ale spills over us where my body crash to the floor, crushed by the weight of him following.

“Stop!” I wail, hitting and clawing at him for dear life. But it’s just like trying to fight a unmovable mountain and I gag and fight for air when his one hand shape around my throat.

“Little vixen should know her place. You are nothing here!” He screams to my face, saliva staining my skin but all I can focus on is the booming pulse in my head where air is more and more needed.

“I-Ivar.” I choke out his name but to no avail. My hands grabbing his shoulders desperately.

“You’re a simple whore. Don’t think you can come here acting like a princess.” He snarls to my ear the second before his hand disappears and air pushes its way through my throat.

With a gasp I roll over, spitting and coughing when my lungs try to adjust once again.

People are holding Ivar who soon breaks free and crawls off and a pair of strong hands helps me sit up.

“Are you alright?” I recognize Sigurd’s voice and all I can do is nod, ignoring the salty tears leaving my eyes.

I stare to where Ivar had gone but there’s now just a wall of curious people.

I don’t know what I had done to make him so eager to insult me to the point I lost my own temper. And I don’t know why it hurt so much.

Looking up to Aslaug she just stares at me with a blank face; free from sympathy, anger and any other feeling I know about. Yet she is not surprised and before standing up she silently mouths “fox” for only my eye to see.

Destruction from Habits (2)

Originally posted by chimchams

Jungkook x reader x Jimin
Word count: 5.1K
Angst, romance, smut
For @inktae
2/4


Two days and you were lying in Jimin’s queen sized bed as he sat in his computer chair, slouching and held his phone between his hands.
He’s obviously still texting Bora, giggling, and aside from that talking to you about the movie marathon that you both are choosing for the night. However, it seems like Jimin’s procrastinating on the actual idea of picking the series and rather spends time with her.

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43. Clandestine

members: Monsta X’s Wonho

content: Teacher!au. Mr Shin is the strict history teacher who managed to score a date with the chill geography teacher. And so ensued sneaky makeout sessions in the janitors closet. 

legnth: 1.7k words

rating: slight smut - teasing

A/N: I am absolute trash for Wonho

Originally posted by monstaxs

Teachers have always held your respect. Standing up in front of classrooms of rowdy teenagers, passing on their knowledge whilst guiding and aiding those in their care. It’s probably why you were a teacher yourself. A classroom in a prestigious school with a head teacher that had featured in many respectable newspapers, the walls decorated exactly how you’d like them; colourful but informative. A full classroom with expectant eyes gazing up at your imposing figure as you talked them through the different countries displayed on your map of Europe.

Your heart was beating steadily in your chest, a smile twitching on your lips as you noted many of the students writing down random facts that poured from your lips. A warm atmosphere had fallen over the class, some sipped water whilst others munched on grapes, a relationship had formed over the opening statement of I’ll be firm but only if you give me a reason to be, otherwise I’d like my classroom to have a comfortable feel to it.

A harsh knock on the wooden door of your classroom caused your words to halt abruptly and all eyes to dart from your face and towards the noise.

“Come in.” You called, eyebrows knitting together as you wondered what on earth could have caused someone to knock on your door. The school was strict, on no circumstances, unless it was a dire situation, must you interrupt the flow of the teaching. You automatically ran through the horrendous possibilities that might have befallen you or one of those sat in your class.

The steady beating of your heart turned into a frantic thump as the person who had knocked on your door stepped through the threshold. Each member of your class sat up straighter, all eyes snapping back to face the front as the infamous strict history teacher, Mr Shin stepped into your line of sight. A teasing smirk made it’s way onto his lips whilst your cheeks flushed a bright red.

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anonymous asked:

RootxShaw prompt- Established relationship. Shaw and Root are tasked with taking care of Gen while she stays in their apartment during one of her breaks from school. Gen notices the relationship and is curious, so at dinner one night she asks many questions like, "How did you two get together?", " Are you guys in love?", or "Are you guys going to get married?" Shaw is annoyed and grumpy, but Root is having the time of her life.

Dinner With an Ex-Spy


Walking down the New York City strip, Shaw takes in the scene around her. With Bear at her side, she studies people, looking for anyone to avoid- any Samaritan operatives in the area.

“Hey, Sweetie,” Root’s voice comes through on Shaw’s earwig. “You busy?”

“Just walking the dog, why? Is there a number?” Shaw asks, anticipation in her words at the chance to pounce.

“No, but,” Root shuffles, and Shaw hears a large crowd of people in the background. “I thought we could meet up? Grab coffee or something.”

Shaw contemplates the idea, rolling it around in her head, not wanting to sound eager or completely disinterested. “Sure, I guess. Coffee shop off of fifth street?” She offers, looking at the café two stores ahead.

“I’ll be there.”

Shaw comes to the coffee shop and closes her eyes momentarily in the heat radiating just outside the building. She stands with Bear at her side, and waits, breath billowing into the air. Suddenly, there is a tap on her shoulder. Shaw turns, but sees no one.

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i saw the prompt “OTP is walking home in the rain. person A falls into a rly gross mud puddle. person B sits in it as well so person A doesn’t feel dumb” and went with it. 1.1k

“Oh, well that’s just great,” Dean says, stopping underneath the awning of the coffee shop and staring out at the rain.

He reaches under his arm, fumbling with his umbrella as the steadily increasing downpour sends a mist over his face. He silently thanks his little brother for insisting that Dean take the umbrella with him before he left the apartment.

“Ever the know it all, aren’t you Sammy,” Dean mumbles to himself, opening the umbrella and positioning it over his head.

Stepping out into the traffic of people on the sidewalk, Dean keeps to the right so he doesn’t get in the way of those scurrying to get out of the rain. He walks leisurely, enjoying the sound of the rain pattering against the nylon of his umbrella.

He’s humming to himself and lost in his own thoughts when he finds himself walking behind a tan trench-coat, a mess of dark brown-almost black hair plastered to the head of man wearing it. The guy has his collar pulled up, and he’s staying as close to the buildings as possible so not to get completely drenched in the rain, something he’s failing miserably at.

Dean immediately feels sorry for the guy, and he wonders how weird it would be to offer a complete stranger the other half of his umbrella. It can’t be too weird, right? Dean would be thankful if he was stuck outside without an umbrella and someone offered to share. But what if the guy was a creep? I mean, he is wearing a trench-coat. But this is New York; People wear trench-coats all the time—

“Move out of the way, asshole!”

Dean’s internal struggle is cut short as a lanky old man pushes past him, causing him to nearly lose his balance as his shoulder hits the concrete of the building he’s walking along. Dean stops walking and glares at the back of the old man’s head, yelling “Hey!” as he attempts to stop him.

The old guy keeps going though, and Dean’s mood changes from aggravated to downright pissed when he sees the man barrel into Trench-Coat, the other of whom was too busy trying to dodge the rain to hear the guy behind him.

Dean feels like he watches it happen in slow motion, the way Trench-Coat loses his footing and attempts to catch himself on the building as gravity pulls him face-first to the sidewalk. A huge splash accompanies a yelp that escapes Trench-Coat’s mouth, and Dean winces in sympathy as he notices the huge puddle the man landed in.

Laughter follows the splash, and Dean looks over to see a group of teenagers pointing and laughing at Trench-Coat as the guy pushes himself to a sitting position, looking down at his hands to inspect the damage the sidewalk caused.

Dean doesn’t know why he does it, call it sympathy or call it stupidity, but he finds himself walking toward Trench-Coat with a purpose. He stops just shy of the guy and, loud enough so the group of teenagers can hear, he says, “What the hell, man?”

Trench-Coat looks up at Dean, and Dean nearly gasps as bright blue eyes meet his own. The guy looks tired, but that along with the wet-puppy look he’s got going on doesn’t take away from how hot he is. Don’t objectify a guy when he’s in a puddle, Dean.

“Excuse me?” Trench-Coat says, deep voice sounding exasperated.

“I said what the hell,” Dean says, putting one hand on his hip, “Why wasn’t I invited to the Puddle Party?”

Trench-Coat squints at him, clearly lost, “The what? Wait—What areyou doing?!”

Dean just winks as he plops his merry ass down on the sidewalk, immediately feeling his jeans soak through to the skin. He leans back against the wall of the building and kicks his legs out, splashing more water on his jeans as Trench-Coat looks at him in horror.

Dean makes eye-contact with the group of teenagers across the sidewalk, raising an eyebrow and daring them to laugh again. They look away quickly, and Dean smirks to himself as he finally focuses his attention back to the man beside him.

“Hi, I’m Dean.”

Trench-Coat gapes at him, looking from Dean’s face, to his legs—which are now completely soaked—and back to his face again.

“I—You—I don’t understand what is happening.”

Dean laughs at Trench-Coat’s reaction, and he shrugs as he reaches up to collapse his now-useless umbrella. He smiles up at the sky as the rain pelts against his face, feeling Trench-Coat staring at him. “Thought you could use some company.”

“So you—sat in a puddle. With a stranger.”

Dean shrugs again, finally looking back and making eye contact with the man next to him. “Puddle Party, man.”

“I do not understand how this is a party.”

Dean rolls his eyes and sighs, “What do you want me to say? I saw you fall in the puddle, saw those kids laughing at you in said puddle, and decided to sit in that puddle with you so you didn’t feel dumb. Sue me.”

Trench-Coat is quiet for a moment, staring at Dean in disbelief, before he breaks into a warm smile. “Or I could thank you.”

Dean waves him off, “Nah. You don’t have to—”

“No one has ever done something this nice for me. Let me buy you coffee or something.”

“No really,” Dean insists, “I wasn’t expecting anything for this. In fact, I’m kind of doing it for myself. I haven’t been in a puddle since I was a kid.”

Trench-Coat rolls his eyes at Dean, “Well then let me just buy you a not-thank you-coffee.”

Dean laughs, “Careful. A not-thank you-coffee could easily be mistaken for a first-date-coffee.”

Trench-Coat considers this for a moment, before shrugging and smirking at Dean, “We could consider it both, if you’re up for it.”

Dean doesn’t miss a beat. “Well I hope you’re not expecting me to do stuff like this all the time,” he motions to them and the puddle.

Trench-Coat shrugs, “Not all the time, but maybe every once in a while.”

“Well who am I to argue with that?” Dean laughs, finally planting his hands on the ground and lifting himself out of the puddle with a grunt.

He reaches down and offers a hand to Trench-Coat, the other of whom takes the proffered hand and pulls himself up as well. They both look down at one another, not a dry spot to be seen on either of them, and together they start laughing.

“What a pair we make,” Dean laughs, and Trench-Coat nods.

“Indeed. I’m Castiel, by the way.”

Dean smiles at the extended hand, small bits of rock and debris from the puddle sticking to his skin, and he brings his own dirty hand up for a handshake.

“Well, Castiel, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Dean.”