Lie to me - Dean Winchester x Reader - Chapter 9 (French Mistake AU)

Title: Lie to me

Pairing: Dean/Jensen x Reader x Sam

Word Count: … nope

Warnings: None

Imagine: Imagine Dean and Sam getting transported to the French Mistake universe. Only for Dean to realize he is married to you, his best friend, love of his life and… Sam’s girlfriend.

Great thank you to @gaveherhearttotheliontattoo for being an amazing beta!

Read Part 1 here! l Read Part 2 here! l Read Part 3 here! l Read Part 4 here!l Read Part 5 here! l Read Deleted Scene here! l Read Part 6 here! l Read Part 7 here! l Read Part 8 here!

“Mommy! Daddy!” the four-year-old squealed when she saw you, running towards the two of you the moment she jumped out of the unmoving car.

“Justice? What-” you blinked, pulling away from Dean as she hugged your waist but your eyes widened even more when you saw the other person exit the car and give you a friendly smile before moving to the backseat “Gen?”

“Auntie Gen brought me here, mama.” your daughter said and you looked down to see her smiling. You leaned down and picked her up in your arms.

“I see that baby.” you whispered and she gave you a small frown instead.

“Why are you crying mommy?” she asked and that was when you realized it. Sniffling your wiped away your tears, glancing at Dean who just looked too frozen in his place, staring with wide red eyes at the little girl in your arms.

“Daddy just- he told me a really good joke. And I laughed to tears, that’s all.” you gave her a smile, trying your best to look convincing for her.

“Uhm, princess-” you cleared your throat, hoping Dean would somehow react and snap out of this. Although you knew it was just too much for him to take this as well, she looked so much like him and you knew he was already having a hard time with a perfect house so being reminded of having a kid and an actual family would probably crash him or… put all of the pieces together.

“Do you want daddy to hold you?” you looked down at her and she beamed at you at the mention of her father.

“Yes, yes daddy!” she squealed, turning to look at Dean who looked mortified for a moment. He looked at you with pleading wide eyes as if telling you that he couldn’t do this but you gave him an encouraging smile.

“Come on.” you whispered “You’re not gonna break her.” you encouraged as she looked at him with her arms slightly outstretched.

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What I learned from Today's Sats

•Kids like to flip dimes and nickels when they’re bored
• Beavers are cool
• Even Old people can here cars driving by
• the people who created the Sat don’t know that 25 minutes is not enough time for a non calculator section
• People pretend to like you when they really don’t
• National parks are important
• Ceres is better than Neptune and Uranus
• Force people to except your “Dimond” food
• When you have to compete with 18 other companies you can no longer sell AA batteries

Yeah this is totally going to help me in College. Thanks College Board.

Sweet Dreams

Title: Sweet Dreams

Author: @chicgeekgirl89

Prompt: They both hate the song that one of the children’s toys make

Description: Being a new parent is exhausting.

Rating: T (for a teeny, tiny bit of language)

“Is she hungry?”

“No I’ve tried, she won’t eat.”

“Maybe she’s wet.”

“She can’t be, I’ve only just changed her.”

“Could she be sick?”

“I don’t know Ron, you’re not the only one here who’s never had a baby before!” Hermione said in exasperation, bouncing her screaming child tiredly where she sat on their bed.

“Well we have to do something! She’s been crying for hours!”

“I know.” Hermione seemed on the verge of a nervous collapse. “I don’t think there’s any hope for it.”

It didn’t seem possible that Ron’s face could fall any further, but it did. “Again?”

“It’s the only thing she likes!” She looked at him, tears in her eyes. “We have to. I can’t take listening to her like this any longer.”

As if sensing that her mildly famous, but woefully inexperienced parents were at their wits end, three-week-old Rose Granger-Weasley let out a bloodcurdling scream that caused the hair on the back of Ron’s neck to stand up.

“All right! All right!” his voice cracked in panic. “Put her in the basinet!”

Hermione laid the baby in her bed, still shrieking at the top of her lungs. “All right Rosie, it’s all right,” Ron told her. “I’ve got your toy right here.”

He pushed the button and then sat down heavily on the bed next to his wife as tinny music filled the room. “I hate that bloody toy,” he said tiredly.

“Don’t swear in front of the baby,” Hermione said automatically, her monotone voice an indication of how much she also hated that toy.

The offending toy was a little lion with a button in the center which, when pressed, caused it to light up and play an electronic version of a song that was vaguely familiar, but to which neither Ron nor Hermione, in their sleep deprived state, could remember the words. It was the only thing that calmed their distraught child, but it also meant neither one of them could sleep as the sound was incredibly annoying and it only played for one minute and twelve seconds before shutting off. As soon as it did, Rose would cry and the cycle started all over again.

“I cannot believe that our beautiful, magical baby will only fall asleep to a muggle toy your parents bought for five pounds that makes me want to rip my ears off,” Ron told his wife.

“What are we going to do?” Hermione asked. “We haven’t slept in a week. What if she never stops crying? What if we just have to keep pressing the button on that toy over and over and over again? How is she ever going to function? How is she going to go to Hogwarts or get a job?”

Ron’s eyes were wide. “We’ll have to go to Hogwarts with her. How are we going to do that? I can’t get into the girl’s dormitory,” he said. “Oh god, what are we going to do?”

It was a clear mark of exhaustion that both of them were completely serious and that neither realized the ridiculousness of these statements.

The room went quiet and dark and Rose immediately began to wail. “I’ll get it,” Hermione said wearily, stumbling toward the baby. “It’s okay sweetie, Mummy’s here.”

She pushed the button once. And then again. “Oh god.”

“What’s wrong?” Ron asked.

“I think the batteries are dead.”

Rose’s screaming grew louder.

“What do you mean, the batteries?”

“Batteries, Ron! Batteries! They’re the muggle things that make this toy work! Your dad has loads of them in his shed, how can you not know what batteries are?” Hermione cried frantically, searching her bedside table.

“I know what a bloody battery is!”

“Don’t swear in front of the baby!” She slammed the drawer shut, running her hands through her hair. “I don’t have anymore. I thought I did, but I don’t.”

“Well what are we going to do?!” Ron cried over the baby’s screaming.

“I-I don’t know!” Hermione said miserably.

“I’ll go check the kitchen!” Ron yelled too loudly as he charged manically out the door into the living room.

Hermione scooped Rose back into her arms and resumed bouncing once more to no avail. “Come on sweetie,” Hermione told her daughter. “You don’t need that toy to go to sleep, you just close your eyes-“

But Rose continued to cry.

“Okay!” Ron ran back into the room, eyes wild. “There are no batteries in the kitchen. But it’s okay because I called Harry.”


“Hermione,” he put a hand on her shoulder looking very serious, albeit slightly crazy, “Harry lived with muggles. He knows about muggle things. He. Might. Have. Batteries.” 

“Okay yeah,” Hermione nodded vigorously. “Yeah good plan. That’s great.”

There was a pop in the living room and then the sound of Harry’s voice. “Ron? Hermione? Are you all right?”

“We’re in the bedroom!” Ron called. “Did you bring the batteries?”

“Batteries?” Harry appeared in the doorway, his face concerned. “Why would I bring batteries?”

“You didn’t bring them?” Hermione looked close to collapsing.

“Ron’s patronus just burst into my house at three o’clock in the morning and said ‘baby batwings’ so no, I didn’t bring any batteries, I panicked and got over here as fast as I could.” He peered at them curiously. “What’s happened to you two? Is Rose all right?”

“She won’t stop crying!” Hermione said hysterically. “It doesn’t matter what we do, she just. Keeps. Crying.”

“We haven’t slept in a week,” Ron croaked. “And then that stupid, bloody toy—“

“DON’T SWEAR IN FRONT OF THE BABY!” Hermione shrieked.

“All right,” Harry said, holding up his hands in what he hoped was a pacifying manner. “Hermione, give Rose to me.”

She hesitated, perhaps uncertain that anything Harry did would change their situation. “It’s all right,” he told her. “You two go in the living room and just sit down for a minute. I’ve got her.”

She placed a wailing Rose into his arms and she and Ron walked into the living room where they collapsed onto the sofa.

Both Ron and Hermione would like to say that they spent the next ten minutes calming down and sweetly reassuring one another that they were doing fine as parents; that all babies cry and they were not the only people in the world who couldn’t calm their distraught infant. But in actuality they both sat unmoving, eyes glazed over in a kind of stupor on either end of the sofa until Harry poked his head out of their bedroom.

“She’s asleep,” he told them.

Ron blinked at him. “What?”

“Rose. She’s sleeping.”           

“How…?” Hermione seemed at a loss for words.

“Come and see.”

They returned to their room to find their baby fast asleep. A spinning, glittering globe was suspended magically in the air above the basinet casting a mesmerizing light over the ceiling and walls. “What is that?” Ron asked.

“It’s a Star Spinner,” Harry said. “George made it for us when James was born. I had it in my pocket so I thought I’d give it a try. Al doesn’t seem particularly interested in it and I figured you three might need it more than we do.”

Hermione threw her arms around Harry’s neck, sobbing. “Thank you!”

Harry laughed. “No problem. Now, try to get some sleep.”

Hermione woke in the morning to light streaming in the window. She pushed her hair groggily out of her face and struggled to look at the clock. 8:30am. “Ron, Ron wake up!” she said, shoving his arm and struggling toward the basinet. “Rose!”

“Whatisit?” he mumbled sleepily, “She okay?”

Hermione stared down at the sleeping baby. “I don’t believe it,” she said.

Ron stood and joined her. “She’s still asleep.”

“I have never been more glad in my life that we are best friends with Harry Potter,” Hermione said fervently.

Ron laughed and pulled her back to their bed where she snuggled into his chest. “It’s been weeks since we’ve gotten to do this,” she told him.

“Since before Rosie was born. And you were quite a bit bigger then.”

“I still fit though.”

“Yeah.” She could hear the smile in his voice even though she was facing away from him. “You always fit.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re the one doing this with me.”

She turned so that she could look at him. “Me too,” she said softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Her eyes widened. “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean.”


“That’s the song the toy plays! My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean!” She sighed in relief. “Oh thank Merlin, I thought that was going to bother me forever.”

“I don’t care if it is a Gryffindor lion. When we get out of this bed I’m going to destroy that toy.”

“Even if it turns her into a Slytherin?”

“For our sanity, I’m willing to risk it,” he said bravely as she laughed.

Her laughter woke Rose who began to fuss but quieted once Hermione brought her to their bed and snuggled her in between them. “What?” she asked when she caught Ron watching.

“You’re an amazing mum,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m barely hanging on here Ron. Last night made that very evident.”

“No, I mean it, you’re brilliant. This is the best thing you’ve ever done. I didn’t think I could love you anymore but the way you look at her and take care of her…it’s amazing.”

Tears welled up in Hermione’s eyes and she wiped them away furiously. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re saying such nice things and all I can do is cry. I don’t know who’s cried more in the last three weeks, me or her. You certainly didn’t know you were signing on for a highly opinionated baby and an emotionally unstable wife.”

He chuckled, and cupped her face tenderly, wiping away the remaining tears with his thumb. “It’s mental, but I love it. I wouldn’t change a thing about our life right now. What we have is perfect.”

Hermione looked down at her sweet daughter and then back into the eyes of her adoring husband. “It really is, isn’t it?”

Girl at Home // An Archie Andrews imagine

Request: I need some Archie and Taylor Swift, I don’t care how you do it. 

“This,” Your new friend Veronica announced over the noise of the hallway. “This is the boy I was talking about, Archie Andrews.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“You too. Where’d you move from?”
“Oh! There’s Betty! Betty come meet (Y/N)!” Before you could reply to Archie’s question a blonde haired girl was shaking your hand with a bright smile, welcoming you to Riverdale. She stepped back to Archie and he put his arm around her waist.
“Has she met Jughead yet?” Betty asked.
“She has not, we will stop by tomorrow after school and introduce her. I think he’s gone already. Anyway, we are going by my place to hang out. Anyone who wants to come over let me know now.”
“Can’t, I have practice tonight.”
“My mom needs me tonight.”
“Alright, more sushi for us.” Veronica whispered and closed her locker.
“Oh, hey, before you go, there’s a party this weekend if you want to come, get to know some people.” Archie’s smile was contagious, you nodded.
“Sounds fun, I’ll be there.”
You were walking in the courtyard with a tray in your hands, searching for Ronnie; You didn’t find her but you saw Archie sitting by himself, a guitar leaning against the table. You made your way over to him.
“Hey! Where’s Betty?”
“Hey, Cheryl needed the cheerleaders in the gym for a quick meeting, they’ll be a little late.” The red head moved the guitar so you could sit across from him.
“You play?” He nodded.
“A little.”
“Archie, I may be new but I was not born yesterday.”
“You want me to play for you?”
“If you want to.”
“Compromise: I have music appreciation after lunch, you have study hall with Ronnie right?” You nodded. “Come on down to the band room and you can hear me play then. I had to compose a song for that class.”
“Can you play any Taylor Swift?”
“No, actually, do you have any other requests?” You giggled. 

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gothiethefairy  asked:

hartwin, they-are-both-homeless au?

I tried to make this not depressing

  • Eggsy used to kipping it on street corners and park benches when Dean’s had a few too much to drink and gets riled for a fight. Good thing about it, he’s seen a lot more of London than most people do. Sure, he doesn’t get the full view as the tourists and day time crowd but at least he doesn’t have to pay to get into every fucking thing.
  • Harry, just home from a long business trip doing mind numbing pencil pushing auditing work, finds his lovely home has caught fire and everything is terribly smoke damaged. He kind of just sags in defeat and sits down on his suitcase as he watches the firefighters trample on his plants and soak his already destroyed house. When he goes to fish his wallet from his pocket, he finds it missing. That wiry kid on the tube–Harry swears so loudly the firefighters actually turn to look at him. No cards, no money, no ID.
  • So, Eggsy’s wandering the streets early in the night when he comes across some poor bedraggled looking bloke carrying a little wheelie behind him and staring dejectedly at his phone. Despite the wrinkled suit, shocking purple circles under his eyes and the overall grumpy look about him, Eggsy thinks he just looks–lost. And handsome. Just as he makes up his mind to go talk to him, the man lets out a disgruntled yell and throws his phone to the kerb, where it shatters.
  • “You alright there, mate?” 

          “It appears my phone is out of battery.”

          “Yeah… don’t think it’s gonna charge up now.”

          Harry levels the young man in the snapback with a stare he hopes is       both unimpressed and withering. The young man just raises his eyebrow at him, smiles.

         “My house nearly burnt down,” Harry explains with a sigh. “And someone stole my wallet.”

          “Ouch. Well, I’m kicked outta my place for the night. Looks like we’re both bumming it tonight.” The young man sticks out his hand. “I’m Eggsy.”

          Harry takes his hand. “Harry Hart.”

          “I know a place that serves all night breakfast. Will do a fry-up that makes you see God.”

          “I don’t have any money.”

          “It’s alright. I picked a wallet off some bloke in a nice suit a few hours ago.” At Harry’s flat stare, Eggsy adds with a laugh, “Joking, mate. It’s on me.”

  • There’s a sense of companionship–something about being out alone on the streets when everyone else is tucked up into their beds that makes Eggsy reach out to Harry, for Harry to reach back. They spend the rest of the night sharing a double order of beans and fried mushrooms and bacon, endless cups of coffee that they get on free refills when Eggsy shines that utterly charming smile on the waitress and she nearly breaks down into giggles. Harry finds himself staring far too much, catches Eggsy staring back. By the time morning comes, Harry finds he’s in too much of a hurry to get back home.

send me a pairing + au and I’ll write 5 headcanons!

For @sherlockvowsontheriverstyx​, who wanted bellarke cuddling. Hope you like it :)

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

“No, like I really hate you. So, so much.”

Bellamy smiles, leans down to drop a kiss to her forehead. “I know,” he says easily, fondly. Indulgently, which grates on Clarke’s nerves even more. “I hate you, too.”

She shakes her head, folding her arms across her chest so that they lay on top of her belly. With only a few weeks to go, it’s large and round and a constant source of discomfort. And with the current heat wave that’s fallen over their settlement, that discomfort doesn’t even fade when she’s lying in bed or folded into Bellamy’s arms. Instead it’s accompanied by the antsy feeling of being hot and bothered and too damn hot. And while she can’t blame Bellamy for the weather, she can certainly blame him for the other part.

“This is all your fault,” she accuses, narrowing her eyes at him. “You and your stupid arms.”

His lips quirk into an amused smile, and she hates how much she loves it because she’s angry goddammit. “My arms?”

“Yes,” she huffs, sending him a glare. “Your arms are big and muscly and I can’t be held accountable for jumping you because of them. And now look at me,” she says, gesturing to herself, sprawled out on their bed in nothing but her underwear, stomach ballooned and brows drawn, with a light sheen of sweat on her skin. “Your. Fault.”

Bellamy laughs, the sound coming out light and delighted. He’s not taking her seriously, she knows, but she probably can’t blame him for that. She sounds ridiculous even to her own ears, petulant and childish, and she knows she looks it just as much.

“Okay,” he says with a grin. “It’s my fault.” He leans down, slow enough that she can pull away if she wants, and presses his lips to hers when she remains in place. “I love you,” he mumbles against her mouth, smiling when she can’t help but kiss him again.

“I love you, too,” she grumbles. “But I also hate you.”

“That’s fair,” he allows, before dropping a kiss to her belly, pressing his cheek to her skin. “And I love you. Be good to your mum and don’t be too active in there, okay?” The baby shifts and Clarke rolls her eyes. “No, not like that,” he chides lightly, grinning at Clarke when she huffs a laugh. “Okay, okay, I’m going. I’ll come back for lunch, okay? There’s ice here, and please call Raven or Monty if you want to go out today. I don’t want to find out you’ve collapsed half way to the hall.”

“I will,” Clarke says with a roll of her eyes, shooing Bellamy away. “Go enjoy your 100 degree work day. The baby and I will be fine.”

“Okay.” He hesitates for a moment before leaning in to kiss Clarke one more time, slow and deep and long. It’s getting harder for him to leave her in the mornings, she knows. With the baby almost here, they’re running out of time for just the two of them, and while they’re both very excited to meet the little one, they know she’s going to take over their lives for a good long while. It makes it all the more frustrating for Clarke, knowing she’s not being the best company right now. But Bellamy doesn’t seem to mind her grumblings or rantings or the fact that she’s half-seriously blaming him for her current predicament. Apparently he knows how to handle her in any situation, even if it is 38 weeks pregnant in the middle of a heat wave. “I love you.”

“I know. I love you, too.”

“Not hate?”

“Only a little.” She can feel his smile on her lips and pushes him in the direction of their door, knowing if he lingers any longer they’re going to want to get carried away before ultimately deciding against it. Better not to go down the path altogether. “Have a good day.”

“You too, babe,” Bellamy says, sending her a smile before finally heading out the door.

Clarke finds herself smiling as well, a hand moving to caress her belly. “Okay baby, what do you want to do today?”

She decides to clean up the cabin first, needing to feel useful after the week she’s been out of action since being ordered off work due to the heat. By the time the place is tidy and Clarke’s sorted through the array of gifts they received at their baby shower a few weeks ago, it’s already uncomfortably hot. Not unbearable, but enough so that Clarke fills up a pitcher of water and wraps some ice in a small towel, and goes back to bed with her sketchpad and pencils.

It’s a hobby she gets to indulge in rarely, with how busy things still are. Despite having lived at their new settlement for over a year, there’s always more to do, more decisions to make and more challenges to face, and while she and Bellamy have both stepped back from any formal political roles, they’re both people others turn to for help. It’s nice, now that the decisions they make aren’t so demanding, but it still takes up a lot of her time.

She finds herself sketching Bellamy’s face, as she normally does. Even if she wasn’t in love with him he’d be an amazing subject to draw, sharp angles and deep eyes and a pattern of freckles on his face she’ll never perfect.

She’s abandoned the task by midday in favour of rubbing ice along her skin. Even with blinds covering all the windows, shading her from the burning sun, the heat is intrusive. Plus, the baby’s decided that now is the perfect time to play gymnastics in her belly, which means that everything is coming together in a perfect combination to make Clarke hot and uncomfortable.

That’s how Bellamy finds her only half an hour later. Clarke’s eyes are closed, but she hears him step into their room, pause as he no doubt watches her with fond eyes.

“How are my two girls?” He asks, soft.

Clarke leans up on her elbows to look at him. He’s flushed and sweaty and dishevelled, and she has to rein in the way it makes her blood pulse hot with want beneath her skin. Watching him strip down to his briefs doesn’t help either, but the way his shoulders sag does. She can see how exhausted he is from a morning’s work under the hot sun.

“We’re okay,” she says, holding up her glass of water for him to take. He downs it greedily before sending her a grateful smile.

“That’s good. I have a surprise for you.”

Clarke raises an eyebrow. “You do? What is it?”

Bellamy laughs, dropping a kiss to her lips. “You do know what surprise means, right?”

Clarke hits him lightly, only prompting him to laugh some more. “Shut up.”

“Just let me wash up and get some food first, and then I’ll show you.”

“Okay,” she agrees slowly, watching him suspiciously as he shoots her another grin and heads back to the main room.

He returns a few minutes later, face clean and fresh, with a plate of food for them to share. It’s simple, just some bread and meat and fruit, but it looks like heaven right about now. And then, tucked under his other arm, is what Clarke’s guessing is his surprise.

She can’t make out what it is, not until Bellamy hands over the food and presents it to her fully. And then Clarke’s jaw is dropping and she’s scrambling to sit upright.

“Is that a fan?” She asks, voice both disbelieving and hopeful.

Bellamy chuckles, eyes crinkling fondly around the edges. “It’s a fan,” he confirms, laughing when she gasps loudly. “I asked Raven to make one for you when the heat wave started. She’s pretty busy at the moment, so had to work on it in her spare time, but yeah, it’s a portable, battery-run fan.”

“Oh, Bell,” Clarke says, shaking her head in awe. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” Bellamy responds, smiling down at her softly. “But this past month has been hard on you, and I wanted to do something nice.” He frowns, considering, then amends his words. “Or enlist Raven to do something nice.”

“Thank you,” she says, pulling him down for another long kiss, letting him know just how much the gesture means to her.

He sets it up on top of a chair at the end of their bed when they part, explaining the different settings to her as he switches it on. The first wave of cool air hitting her makes Clarke sigh, sagging back against the pile of pillows behind her.

Fans were one of the many things put on the non-essential list when they had to trek cross country to find a new place to live. They’ve managed reasonably well without them, designing their buildings and cabins strategically and using trees to provide them with shade, but it’s still hard. Their previous summer wasn’t nearly as hot, and Clarke wasn’t eight and a half months pregnant, so even on the warmer days, she could easily walk down to the river to cool off. Now, it’s quite a bit more effort.

So she’s incredibly grateful for this surprise, for Bellamy’s thoughtfulness and for Raven’s genius. Her belly still isn’t the most comfortable thing, but having some relief from the heat makes her feel so much better already.

Bellamy joins her in bed, letting out the same sigh of content Clarke just did, and without it being so hot she lets herself snuggle into his side. They nibble on their food and talk about their mornings and enjoy the cool breeze the fan provides, and soon Clarke’s pushing closer to Bellamy, manoeuvring them both until she’s sitting in the cradle of his legs, back against his chest.

And she’s missed this, just the simple feeling of their skin touching, the way it calms her and excites her and makes her feel at peace. She’s missed so much that she hasn’t been able to pull Bellamy in for a long, warm hug, and that he hasn’t been holding her securely at night, and that neither of them have been letting their kisses get carried away into anything more. This stupid weather has made her miss him, despite having seen him each and every day of it.

“This is nice,” Clarke sighs, letting her head roll to the side to rest on Bellamy’s shoulder. He’s got one arm wrapped around her, on top of her belly, while the other runs along it, just saying hello to their baby. “I’ve missed being able to touch you.”


“Yeah.” She leans up, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “And I’ve missed having you cuddle me.”

Bellamy pulls her in tighter at that, dropping his face to nuzzle into her neck. She can feel the pressure of his lips, the familiar weight of them on her skin, and she closes her eyes, lets her hands find each of his to lay on top of them, wanting to be close at every point.

They stay like that for a long while, Clarke settling into Bellamy’s body comfortably, sleepy and happy and in love. He begins a story, maybe for the baby and maybe for her, and she feels her eyes get heavy and her mind slow, drifting off.

And then, just before she’s out completely, something twinges tight at the base of her stomach and she sits up, alarmed, before registering what it was. A contraction.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Viktuuri on Holiday

This is for @discord-ant​, who requested a POV outsider Viktuuri on holiday, ignoring the landmarks and taking photos of random things instead. Hope you’ll like it!

…eighteen, nineteen, (whoa, what a handsome guy!) twenty, (aww, the Asian one is cute too!) twenty one.

She checked her papers. Yep, twenty one. Good.

“May I have your attention please?” she spoke up and waited until all heads turned to her. “Hello everyone, welcome to Bratislava! My name is Monika and I will be your tour guide. Before we start, let me just go through a quick set of rules. When we arrive at a landmark, I would like you to first pay attention to me as I explain the story behind the landmark and answer your questions. You will have enough time to take photos afterwards. It’s a beautiful sunny day, so there might be crowds…” She felt like a parrot, repeating the same thing for the millionth time. Or a broken record. Stay with the group. Don’t get lost. Follow the red umbrella. There will be enough time for souvenir shopping. The meeting point is in front of Michael’s Gate, any local will point you in the right direction. “Any questions?” As expected, there were none. “Good, now please follow me.”

She led the group to the first attraction of the day – Watcher. There was a group of tourists taking selfies with the statue. She spotted Anna and nodded at her fellow tour guide.

“Okay, while we wait for this group to take their photos, let me tell you something about our most photographed statue. Čumil or ‘Watcher’ was originally installed as a joke in 1997…” Monika allowed herself to space out as she retold the story she could recite from her sleep and answered the same questions she had answered million times before. Sometimes her job could be quite taxing. She gave them a generous fifteen minute break to take photos.

There were three men who absolutely stood out in this group, and not only because of their good looks. A cheerful Thai (at least Monika thought he was Thai. He certainly looked the part and he was wearing a jacket with Thailand’s flag) who was taking twenty selfies per minute, and an interesting pair that always stayed close to each other. One of them was a handsome silver haired man with the bluest eyes Monika had ever seen and the other was a gorgeous Asian. In sharp contrast to the Selfie Guy, the two did not even take out their phones. They were the only ones who hadn’t taken a picture with Watcher.

“Does everybody have a picture?” she asked to be certain.

The Gorgeous Asian’s eyes widened and he whipped out his phone quickly. Now that was the expected reaction.

Only he didn’t point it at Watcher.

“Витя, смотри!” he said to his friend, pointing at a puppy. (The last thing Monika had expected was for an Asian guy to speak fluent Russian.) You could practically see the Handsome Russian (it seemed reasonable to assume he was Russian) melt at the sight. They… They took photos with the dog, completely ignoring the statue, and did not even protest when it was time to move on.

Same thing happened with other attractions. The statue of Napoleon’s soldier? Selfie Guy: approximately 38 photos. Gorgeous Asian & Handsome Russian: nothing.

The statue of Schöne Náci? Selfie Guy: at least 25 photos. Gorgeous Asian & Handsome Russian: took a photo of a balloon seller.

Old Town Hall? Selfie Guy: more than 22 photos. Gorgeous Asian & Handsome Russian: took a photo of a butterfly.

Saint Martin’s Cathedral? Selfie Guy: no less than 40 photos. Gorgeous Asian & Handsome Russian: took a photo of newlyweds exiting the church.

Bratislava Castle? UFO Restaurant? It was a miracle Selfie Guy had any free space left on his phone! Gorgeous Asian & Handsome Russian? Took photos of their ice cream. Ice cream. There was a giant flying saucer over the bridge held up mostly by suspension cables with no pylons supporting it from beneath and they took a photo of an ice cream! No, really, what was wrong with these two? They didn’t look bored. They listened to stories behind the monuments intently and occasionally even asked a question, proving that they were listening. It’s just that more people surreptitiously took photos of them than they did of anything. Unlike Selfie Guy, who was having a crisis over his dying phone battery (yeah, no surprise there). Handsome Russian calmly took out a power bank from Gorgeous Asian’s backpack and handed it to the excited Thai.

Well. Okay, then. Maybe they hired Selfie Guy as their photographer? That would explain things…

“Alright, everyone, attention please! It’s now 13:08. You have until 14:00 to go shopping for gifts and souvenirs. We will meet at 14:00 right here at this fountain. Please try to be punctual!” Not that she expected them to be, she’d been doing this for way too long and she knew better. She waved at the group, indicating they were free to go.

Gorgeous Asian & Handsome Russian were the first to arrive, carrying bags with logos of the usual souvenir shops. They were soon joined by the Selfie Guy, who had more bags than the two of them combined.

“Hey, guys, look what I’ve found!” Carefully setting the bags on the ground he opened one and took out a t-shirt. Monika giggled quietly. It was a gag gift t-shirt “Slovak for beginners” with deliberately difficult archaic and dialectal words which were practically impossible to pronounce for non-native speakers.

“I don’t think human vocal cords are meant to produce such combinations of consonants,” Gorgeous Asian said doubtfully.

Selfie Guy nodded. “Yeah, I thought so too, so I asked the shop assistant to read it to me. He did. Then again,” the Thai tapped his lip thoughtfully, “maybe he wasn’t human! I mean, they do have a flying saucer disguised as a restaurant! Maybe they’re all aliens!” He whipped out his phone to take a selfie with the shirt and no doubt inform the internet about his newest finding.

Monika slapped a hand over her mouth to keep herself from bursting into laughter. Eavesdropping was rude. Even if it was the craziest theory she’d ever heard in her career.

“Oh, and you’ll love this one!” he triumphantly pulled out a navy t-shirt which said

(alternate spelling of victory)

“I need one!” Handsome Russian’s face brightened up, even as Gorgeous Asian groaned.

“Vitya, no.”

“Vitya, yes.” Handsome Russian pressed a quick kiss on Gorgeous Asian’s cheek and turned to Selfie Guy. “Where did you get it?”

The Thai pointed at a shop. Handsome Russian practically ran there.

“I hate you,” Gorgeous Asian informed Selfie Guy.

“Nah. You love me!”

The tourists, tired from the long walking tour, were sitting quietly in their seats, only few of them still having the energy to talk. The bus stopped at the red light.

“On the left you can see the Ondrej Nepela Arena.” The last thing Monika had expected was for Gorgeous Asian & Handsome Russian to pull out their phones and finally take a photo of a building. (Selfie Guy didn’t surprise her at all). Really? In front of the beautiful Neo-Renaissance style building of the Slovak National Theatre they had taken a picture of a flower and now, seeing this ugly modern building, now they decided they needed a photo? “For those of you who don’t know, Nepela was a famous Slovak figure skater, 1972 Olympic champion, a three-time World champion, and a five-time European champion…”

Monika slumped down onto her bed gratefully. It’d been a long day. Taking out her phone she checked her mails and skimmed through her social media sites. She got bored with it pretty quickly. Deciding to catch up with the latest pop-culture, Monika googled this viktuuri/victory meme.

Her scream woke up the neighbour’s dog.


Disclaimer: I’m totally entitled to make fun of my language, city where I work, its landmarks, and possible extraterrestial status of myself and my countrymen :)

anonymous asked:

remember that anon who’s car battery died? yeah, it’s me again. guess what happened again?

I’m sorry hun!!
Not sure which country you’re in, but Advanced Autoparts usually has coupons you can use towards a new battery, and they install it for you.

Walmart also has decently priced batteries.

I hope you’re in a safe place.


A/N: Hello! Quick drabble for you guys that I had planned for a long, long, long time and finally remembered to write. Starring Little Nathan, Percy The Dad, and the problem of marrying a daughter of Athena.


Percy was sitting by the kitchen table, trying to wrap his mind around his bloody taxes, when the scuffling of little stockinged feet distracted him. Nathan had woken up from his nap and dragged his still sleepy self to the kitchen. While he watched, his son climbed the chair beside his and stood on it, leaning on the table with his elbows.

“Hey, buddy, what’s up?” Percy greeted him.

“Daddy…” Nathan started, sounding troubled, “Can I ask you some questions?”

“Sure, son. Go ahead.”

“How does a camera work?”

“Oh, it’s really easy, bug, you hold it up, point it to the thing you want in the photo, and press the button!” Percy smiled at him, but Nate shook his head.

“No, daddy, I know how to take a picture. But how does it work? How does the photo get there?” he insisted.

Keep reading

Friends: Christmas (Part 13)

Chris motionless x reader

Warnings : Language

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12)

 A/N: this is the last part of Friends: Christmas, and the end of Friends (maybe, I have ideas). Happy New Year everyone!

You snuggle back into Chris, your head pillowed by his arm as the two of you lay in bed. He was asleep, of that you were pretty sure, and he was glued to your back, his arm tight around your waist. He was a definite snuggler when he slept, that you’d learned, although you don’t see how he manages it when you twist and turn so much in your sleep.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

YEAH, WE'RE ALL GOOD. we're getting a new car battery though because we can't have nice things ever

GOOD. I worry.
Is it an old car? And yeah, buying a new battery sucks, but at least you don’t have to worry about it dying again for another 6-8 years if you treat it right.

The Cactus Fic

Title: The Cactus Fic

Author(s): undineundead and claraoswin-looks-at-thestars

Genre: smut

Warnings: please do not try any of the acts described in this fic at home - frickle frackle

Disclaimer: please do not repost or steal this work

It was a cold march day and Dan had just woken up. Dan had gotten up extra early this Sunday because he didn’t want to miss the F1 race. Lewis Hamilton is the only person that could get him out of bed at 6 am. Lewis and Phil, of course. He walked into the kitchen to find his boyfriend Phil sitting on the counter, eating cereal. Dan glanced over the kitchen and let out a sigh as he saw that Phil (once again) had left some of the cupboards open. He kept doing that. Every single time Phil did something in the kitchen, it looked like a hurricane had passed by.

“Why do you always leave the kitchen so messy? Is it that hard to close the bloody cupboards?” Dan lectured Phil as he dramatically slammed the cabinet doors closed.

“Huh, what?” said Phil as he looked up at Dan. It was still early and he had been daydreaming.

“Nevermind, it’s fine,” Dan said with a smirk on his face. He could never stay mad at Phil for long. “Why are you up already, by the way?” Dan added. “You’ve decided to start watching F1 too?” he said sarcastically.

“No, I couldn’t sleep.” Said Phil. “I didn’t want to wake you up so I came into the kitchen. I thought I’d play some Mario Kart or something.”

“Well, as long as you’re not playing with your balloons without me, I’m cool with it.” Dan said sassily. He immediately looked away from Phil to hide his red cheeks. Dan had really enjoyed it when Phil had tied him up with his balloons and fucked him so hard he hadn’t been able to sit without feeling his asshole trob.

“What time is it anyway? F1 starts at 7 and I don’t want to miss the beginning,” said Dan and looked up at the clock on the wall above the fridge just to find that the clock hands had stopped moving . “Huh, what? Surely it’s not 3 o’clock. Phil, did you change the batteries of our clock when I asked you to yesterday?”

“Oh… Right, sorry. It slipped out of my mind completely,”Phil apologised.

“Well of course, I should be used to being the only person in this house who gets things done,” Dan teased Phil. “Do we have any batteries?”

“Yeah, there should be some under the sink,” said Phil pointing at the top drawer.

Dan opened the drawer and started digging through the mess to find the batteries.

“OW FUCK!” Dan yelled as he felt something sharp pricking his fingertips.

Phil looked up, shocked by Dan’s sudden outcry.

“What the hell is this!?” Dan asked Phil furiously.

“Uhm.. Thor?” Phil answered.

“What is your fucking cactus doing in the drawer, Phillip!?”

“Sorry… I must have zoned out after watering it last night.”

“Jesus Christ, I’m bleeding!”

“Wait, what, Dan are you okay?” Phil sounded concerned. He jumped off the counter and walked up to Dan to check on him.

“You and your stupid cactusses!” Dan complained. He wanted Phil to feel sorry for him so he’d give him a hug or kiss.

“It’s cacti.” Phil says matter of factly.

“Whatever, it’s like you have some kind of obsession with them or something.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” Phil said as he kissed Dan’s bleeding finger. “Does that make it feel better? Let’s put a band-aid on that, shall we?”

“What do you mean - I have no idea?” Dan asked curiously as he saw Phil looking for a band-aid in one of the drawers.

“Well, like I said before, there are so many things you don’t know about me yet.” Phil winked at Dan while placing a band-aid on his bleeding finger.

“And what does that have to do with your stupid cactus?” Dan asked Phil giving him a puzzled look.

“Well, there are a lot of things one can do with a cactus. And we both know you like it rough,” Phil said with a smirk on his face as he leaned closer to Dan and gave him a soft kiss on his lips. Dan placed his hands around Phil’s neck and pulled him closer. Phil pushed himself onto Dan so that there was no more space between them. He started to kiss Dan’s neck as he was getting aroused. He grabbed Dan’s back and touched him all over, wanting to have touched every single inch of his incredible torso. Dan had been working out a lot more over the last few weeks and Phil could really see the difference. His arms had gotten a lot more muscular and  abs firmer. Phil could also notice that Dan was getting hard. Phil started feeling Dan’s throbbing cock through his sweatpants. He looked straight into Dan’s eyes and softly said:”I can see you’re dying to find out.”

“Let’s get this annoying shirt out of the way, I don’t like it.”

“But phil, you gave it to me..” Dan asked, confused.

“I like the shirt, but in my opinion, it looks better on the floor,” Phil said and winked at Dan while helping him to remove the black T-shirt. He threw it away immediately and reached for the cactus that was still on the countertop. Dan glanced at Phil holding the cactus, not knowing what was about to happen.

“Let me show you one of the things that a cactus can be good for” Phil said with a smirk on his face. “You’re mine, Daniel, and I want everyone to see it.”

Phil guided the cactus along Dan’s soft skin. Dan could feel the needles gently caressing the surface of his arm and making him shiver. He closed his eyes making Phil notice how much he was enjoying that. Phil continued tracing Dan’s biceps with the cactus, each time pressing the needles a little bit deeper into his skin. Just deep enough to create light scratches.

Suddenly Phil lashed out and scratched the cactus across Dan’s chest, leaving a slowly bleeding cut behind.

“What are you doing?!” Dan stammered.

“Keep still.” Phil said sternly and he pushed Dan against the wall, holding him there with one hand on one of Dan’s shoulders. Phil then continued to trace the cactus across Dan’s arms leaving little bleeding cuts behind. He cut Dan’s lower arms as well, he wanted people to be able to notice what he had done to him later. Phil gently ran his fingers across the bleeding cuts, making Dan whimper. Phil looked at Dan’s blood dripping off his finger and then licked it all up.

Dan looked up at Phil slightly worried and bewildered. He didn’t say a word because he was afraid to protest, yet he was curious to know what’s gonna happen next. Somehow all this scratching had gotten Dan all hot and bothered.

“Maybe you should take off your shirt as well, Phil?” Dan asked shyly whilst running his fingers underneath the hem of Phil’s shirt, touching his firm abs and pushing up the shirt ever so slightly.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Phil replied, putting down the cactus and letting go of Dan’s shoulder. “Well, take it off then, you cockslut.”

Dan pulled the shirt over Phils head, uncovering his slightly hairy chest. Phil hadn’t shaved his chest in a while and Dan liked it. Phil pushed his body against Dan’s once again and went straight to kissing his neck and gently sucking on it, so that Dan would have a trail of hickeys across his neck, yet another mark Phil had left on his body. He kept guiding his lips across Dan’s chest, kissing the cuts and licking his nipples. He licked away the trails of blood the cuts had left behind. Dan was moaning, he wanted to get fucked so hard. He’d had enough of the foreplay but Phil always took his time. He never rushed, which was a little frustrating sometimes.

“Don’t be impatient, Dan” Phil put his hand on Dan’s cheek and kissed him passionately letting him taste his own blood that was still on Phil’s lips.

Phil was still dressed in his cookie monster pyjamas. He was getting hard from all the foreplay and kissing. He felt Dan’s hand move towards his member. Dan’s hand slipped inside Phil’s pants and started rubbing his massive cock. Phil never wore underwear underneath his pyjamas which made his cock easy-access.

“You like that cock?” Phil said smirking. “How about you suck it, you cocksucking slut.”

Phil pushed Dan’s head down towards his crotch area. Dan got on his knees and happily pulled down Phil’s pants to reveal his giant member.

“What are you waiting for? Go on!” Phil raised his voice. He was desperate to have his cock sucked and Dan could do unspeakable things with his tongue. Dan didn’t hesitate to place his lips around the tip of Phil’s member, teasing him. Phil couldn’t handle all the teasing, so he moved his fingers through Dan’s soft hair and clenched his fist, pulling his hair. Dan was about to start sucking his pulsating dick when Phil pulled his head towards his crotch, making Dan deepthroat him. Dan hadn’t seen it coming and Phil’s cock went all the way down the back of his throat. It made his eyes tear up. Phil looked down at Dan who was desperately trying to suppress his gag reflex. He saw a tear running down Dan’s cheek and reached towards his face to gently wipe it away.

“Good boy,” Phil spoke softly as he watched Dan pleasure him. The way Dan moved his tongue around like a pro made Phil come very close to climaxing.

“Hold it there, Daniel, don’t want to cum all over you just yet. I still haven’t shown you all the things you can do with a cactus,” Phil said as he pushed Dan away.

Phil stepped out of his pants which were down to his ankles. It’s not like he would need them any time soon.

“Take off your pants, you little bitch.” Phil said as he picked up the cactus and started pulling the needles out.

“What are you doing with the cactus?” Dan said, confused about what was going on.

“You’ll see. It might come in handy later,” Phil teased.

“Phil, I don’t understand why you’re picking the needles from the cactus..”

“Stop talking, get naked!”

Dan nodded and kept removing his clothes. “And when I get back I want to see you bending over the table, ready for me.” Phil commanded and left the kitchen after he put the cactus on the table.

A few minutes later Phil was back, holding a container of lube in one hand and his phone charger in the other. He walked up to Dan who was already bending over the table as Phil had asked. Phil spanked his smooth asscheeks and caressed them. Pushing against Dan’s feet with his own, Phil made Dan spread his legs wider. Phil took the cable of the phone charger and used it to tie Dan’s wrists together tightly to have more control over him.

“Let’s get you lubed up.” Phil said as he opened the cap of the container and squirted some on his fingers. He rubbed Dan’s hole with his slippery fingers, occasionally sticking one inside. Dan got impatient. “Just fuck me already!” he begged. Dan knew exactly what would happen if he ever tried bossing Phil around when he was in his dominant mood but Dan just couldn’t wait any longer. He was so horny, he was ready to put up with the consequences. Phil penetrated Dan’s tight, unstretched hole, making him cry out. The mix of pain and pleasure was something Dan had always enjoyed and Phil didn’t hesitate to give him exactly what Dan liked. As Phil started thrusting harder, Dan’s moans became louder.

“Are you aware of how loud you are?” Phil asked Dan. “We have neighbours you know! How about I shut you up.” Phil picked up the needleless cactus from the table and forced it into Dan’s mouth. Phil continued banging Dan and started running his nails across Dan’s back. He left slightly visible marks but that wasn’t enough. He stopped, pulled out and moved away from Dan, saying: “Don’t move!”

Dan watched him walk out of the kitchen. He stayed there: bending over the table, tied up and with a cactus in his mouth. This was humiliating already but he was worried about what Phil would do to him next.

Phil walked back in with another cactus in hand and his member still erect. He stood next to Dan and used the cactus to leave bleeding cuts along his back. He kept moving it downwards until he reached Dan’s asscheeks. They were perfectly smooth. He was about to change that. He rubbed the cactus all over Dan’s ass, creating large bleeding cuts. He could hear Dan groaning.

Dan had never had such rough sex before. Phil got kinkier each time and Dan was getting worried about how far Phil would take it. He had to admit he enjoyed it but he didn’t like surprises. Dan was actually afraid this time. He was okay with the balloons last time but a cactus could actually hurt you, he was already bleeding all the way along his back.

Phil kept cutting the skin on Dan’s ass, slowly moving towards his hole. He stopped for a moment because a strange but appealing idea had popped into his mind. He put the cactus on the table and started untying the cable that was keeping Dan from moving his arms.

“Spread your cheeks, you slut!” Phil exclaimed loudly.

Dan didn’t immediately respond.

“NOW!” Phil yelled, spanking Dan’s ass with the cable right on the bleeding cuts.Phil could hear Dan’s muffled screams. Little did Dan knew the worst was still to come. He still followed Phil’s order and used his hands to spread his ass.

Phil picked up the cactus and held it against Dan’s entrance.. and pushed. Dan bit into the cactus, releasing a disgustingly bitter taste into his mouth and jumped forwards. With the table in the way, he had nowhere to go as Phil shoved the cactus up his ass. It was all too much for Dan: the humiliation, the pain of feeling the sharp needles inside of him.

Dan stood up straight, took the cactus out of his mouth and yelled at Phil.

“What the hell!?” Dan was tempted to pull the cactus right out of him but he was afraid it would cause even more pain.

“Admit that you liked it. If you hadn’t enjoyed that, your cock would not be looking as excited as it does right now. Now get back on your knees and make me cum.”

Dan got onto his knees, cactus still sticking out of his ass. He grabbed hold of Phil’s penis and started sucking it. He also grabbed his own erect cock and started pleasuring himself.

Once again Dan used his skills on Phil’s member. He knew how to get him off in seconds. He twirled his tongue around the shaft while looking up at Phil and seeing him shut his eyes with pleasure. It didn’t take Phil very long before he ejaculated all over Dan’s face. Phil stepped back and leaned against the table.

“I want to see you pleasure yourself and cum for me,” Phil said.

Dan got up and did as he was told. There he was, still with a cactus up his ass and cum all over his face, wanking himself off in front of Phil. He also didn’t take very long to finish as his asshole was still throbbing and it kind of excited him, so he came in his hand, creating a sticky mess.

“Very good,” Phil said, approving and walked up to Dan. He grabbed hold of his cum covered hand and started licking away the cum. When Phil was finished, Dan asked, “Can I take this cactus out of my ass now?”


Dan pulled out the cactus. It hurt so much. When he finally got it out, he was relieved to see that the needles were still intact and connected to the cactus. At least he won’t have to spend the whole day pulling needles out of his ass.

Dan glanced at the clock which was still not working. He remembered he had planned to watch the F1 today.


Dan and Phil were sitting on the sofa, cuddling against each other. Phil had helped Dan to clean himself up, get dressed and even helped him get to the lounge as Dan had some trouble walking. Phil knew his aggressive kinks were exhausting for Dan but he really loved him, so he always tried to make him feel better afterwards.

“I don’t think I want to find out about any more of your kinks, Phil.” Dan said as he laid his head on Phil’s shoulder and watched tv.

“I’m sorry, bear.” Phil apologised softly and kissed the top of Dan’s head.

“It’s fine,” Dan smiled. “Well, only if you promise me to help me with walking for the next few days.” he added sarcastically.


Laptop: hey your battery? yeah it’s only at 40% plugged in and dying and we can’t charge higher. You uh, may wanna fix that soon?

hoekravitz  asked:

11: Do you have any strange phobias?
12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose? 1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?

11: Do you have any strange phobias?

  • Yeah, trypophobia and life-sized dinosaur replicas

12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

  • yeah grapes, batteries, a few coins, an antenna ( i was a weird child)

1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?             

  1. into orbit - alex isley
  2. violet - daniel caesar
  3. i need a forest fire - james blake ft bon iver
  4. borderline (an ode to self care) - solange
  5. lava lamp - thundercat
  6. jethro - thundercat
Hidden - One Shot/Request

Request: Hello, do you do suggestions If you do can you do one where Sam and the reader have a love/hate relationship and you have angry sex ( details ) then you become pregnant and you have to tell sam before Cas and Pease include Charlie as the reader bff mrs-sam-winchester12


Words: 3965


“Seriously, Sam?” you bellowed as you stormed through the bunker.

  You stomped into the library, steam seaming to pour out of your ears and you could feel just how warm and red your face was.  You clutched the keys to your car in your hand, the edges of them digging into your palm but you didn’t seem to notice.

  “Sam, where the hell are you,”  you yelled as anger radiated from you.

  “Right here.  What’s with the yelling?” His act was unconvincing.

  “As if you don’t already know.  Tell me you did not actually steal the battery from my car.  I swear to God,” you glared at him, your teeth clenched and your eyes on fire.  

  His hazel eyes stared back at, his lids lowering and beginning to glower at me.  “I told you I didn’t want you to go on the hunt alone.”  His explanation, while more forthcoming than you had expected, didn’t make you feel any better about the situation.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” you yelled as you threw your hands in the air and attempted to restrain yourself from launching yourself violently at him.

  “Shit, Sam.  I’m not some helpless little rookie.  Hell, I’ve been hunting longer than you!  Stop trying to control everything I do! Stop trying to fucking protect me and just let me do my damn job!”  The words tumbled from your mouth angrily.

  “Let you do your job?  You’re joking, right?” he laughed at you.  “If I let you just do your job, you’d be roadkill right now. If I didn’t protect you, you sure as hell wouldn’t protect yourself and you’d be dead.  We’d be burning you in the backyard.  So yeah, I took the battery.  We go together or not at all.”

  Sam’s words pushed every button you had.  You wanted to throttle him.  Strangle him.  Beat the hell out of him.  You were seething and all you could think about was how angry you are.

  “You know,” you said, your voice deceptively calm and disturbingly even.  “Your protective controlling ways may work on your brother.  But they won’t work on me.  You may be some codependent sniveling little worm, but I’m not.  There are other cars in that garage,” you declared.

  “And I’ll disconnect every battery, and sabotage every engine I have to!” His voice rose as he stepped closer to you, his hand gesturing toward the garage.  

  “That’ll be a feat,” you teased, “especially since I plan on leaving now!”  You whipped around and made a break for the garage door.  Grabbing a set of keys that hung on the wall just inside the garage, you set your sites on one of the beat up old cars in the back.  You ran full speed towards it, knowing that Sam never had been able to keep up with you.  Yanking the door open, you jumped into the driver’s seat, turned over the engine, and tore out of the garage as you glanced back at Sam in the rearview mirror, watching him kick the bumper of one of the old station wagons parked next to him.


  Hours had passed since you had left.  Sam knew that your hunt was only about a hundred miles away and he knew you could take care of it.  But your brash actions and your blatant disregard for your own safety was what hit him.  Filled him with a rage and anger that he could never quite get a hold of.  

  Since you had shown up a few months ago, you had stayed with the Winchester’s in their bunker.  More often than not, you went on their hunts with them but every once in a while, you’d get it into your head that taking on a hunt, no matter how dangerous, was safe to do on your own.  And each time, Sam violently disagreed.

  Each time usually ended the same way.  You took off anyway, completely infuriating him, took care of the job, and came back quicker than he thought you would.  But that didn’t stop Sam from his constant worry.  

  “Y/N ditch you again,” Dean asked, a smirk on his face, as he walked out of the kitchen.

  “Guess so,” Sam replied back, his lips tight and his jaw tense.

  Dean laughed at him, shaking his head and making his way over to the table.

  “What’s so funny?” Sam asked him, irritably.

  “You.  The both of you.  I swear…One of these days.”   Dean trailed off, distracting himself with a book he had left on the table.  “Yeah.  One of these days she’s going to get herself killed.”

  “Yeah,” Dean said sarcastically, “That’s definitely what you’re so upset about.”  

  Sam looked at his brother, his eyebrows creased as he scrunched them together, confused.

  A few hours later, you pulled into the garage, your hair matted with dirt and blood,  but a smile plastered onto your face.  Parking the car, you swung your legs out of the door, grabbing your duffel and heading into the bunker, whistling as you walked.

  “Heya, Dean,” you said as you walked passed the boys who were pouring over their books at the table.  “Sam,” you said, tension and anger evident in that one word.

  You walked through the hallway and down to your room, throwing your duffel bag of weapons onto your bed as you walked towards the bathroom, desperately looking forward to a shower.  But Sam stopped you in the hallway.

  “Shit, Sam!” you said as you barreled into him, not seeing him as you turned out into the hall. “You know, for a tall guy, you’re surprisingly stealthy.”  

  He crossed his arms and glared at you, his eyes never dropping their focal point from yours.  “What,” you sighed, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms as you mimicked him. “Is this the part where you lecture me about how careless I was and we have some big after-school-special moment and hug it out while I tell you my deepest darkest secrets and cry into your shoulder?”   His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared as you could visibly see you had hit your mark.  “So not happening, Sammy.  I’m a big girl.  I went on my big scary hunt alone, and guess what?  The bad guy died and I didn’t!”  Your words dripped with sarcasm, each syllable taunting him.

   “Damnit, Y/N,” Sam said through clenched teeth, his pupils seeming to dilate as he stared at you, dropping his arms down and grabbing you by the shoulders as he pressed you up against the wall. “I worry about you, okay?  Is that so hard for you to get?  Some times, I swear, you just drive me crazy.”  His words seemed to ignite a fire within you.  Nobody ever worried about you before. You’d never been part of a team before.  But the anger and resentment you held towards being treated like a fragile porcelain doll was indisputable.  

  “Sam, I’m not your responsibility!  It’s not your job to protect me!”  You tried to push him back, to force him to release you, to no avail.  “What’s your problem?” you asked him, your voice stern and threatening.

  “You’re my problem!” he said, his face inching closer to yours, his breath hot against your cheek.  “Then do something about it,” you said, threateningly.  Sam’s eyes grew wide, his jaw clenched and his arms even more rigid as he pressed you deeper against the wall, taking your mouth over with his own.  His hands pinned you to the wall, your shoulders pressed up against the wall as he devoured your lips with his own.  You pushed back against him, catching him off guard and taking the opportunity to shove him back against the door to the bathroom, as it swung open behind him.  

  His feet tripped over yours, sending him falling down to the floor with you crashing down on top of him.  Your lips still connected, you pushed him down to the floor, your hands angrily grasping at his shirt. “Do you always have to be in charge?” he asked between breaths.  

  “No.  But I do need to shower.”  You suddenly released your hold on him, standing up and leaving him laying on the ground, his hands still in the air where they had just been grasping your hips and his jeans pleasantly distressed near his groin.  You stepped past him and towards the shower, feeling his eyes on your back as you slid your jeans down past your hips and left them in a pile along with your panties on the floor.  Slowly, you took off your shirt, lifting it above your head and discarding it in the heap.  You looked over your shoulder and down at Sam who laid mystified on the floor, starring up at you.

  “Are you joining me, or not?”  

  Sam jumped up, pushing himself up by his hands and disrobing faster than you’d imagined he’d be able to.  You giggled to yourself, surprised at his eagerness. The water was already warm as it sprang out of the shower head.  You stepped in, moaning at the intense relaxation you felt as the droplets caressed your back.  Sam’s arms firmly gripped your shoulders, turning you around to face him as he pushed your back up against the wall under the spigot.  His lips found yours once more, powerfully pinning you as his hands trailed down your stomach, past your belly button and below your bikini line. Your breath hitched as he reached down, his long, agile fingers beginning to assault your core.

  “I am in charge now, Y/N,” Sam gritted his teeth and growled at you.

  “Yes,” you moaned.

  “Say it, Y/N.  Say you’ll listen,” his teeth nipped at the sensitive area in the crook of your neck.  “Say I’m in control.”

  His fingers danced between your legs, forcing you to lose all control over your knees.  “Shit, Sam!” you yelled.  “Say the fucking words, Y/N,” he bit back, his fingers ceasing their motions.  

  “Yes, yes!  God! You’re in control, Sam!  You win!”  You begged him as a smile formed on his lips.  He brought one of his hands up to your hair, massaging your scalp as the warm water ran down your back.  “Sam,” you whined as his fingers below returned to their movements, and brought you right to the cusp, seconds away from your release.

  He stopped his onslaught, making you grown, almost painfully coming back down.  “You frustrate the fuck out of me, Y/N,” he said through gritted teeth.  You sighed, overcome by desire and impatient for your release.  Your hand glided down your side and between your legs, touching your clit and beginning to massage it, picking up where he had left off.  You opened your eyes and looked at Sam’s face.  His eyes were wide and you were pretty sure you’d never seen him look so surprised before.  

  “See?” you breathed out.  “I can take care of myself,” you finished, panting as you reached your climax.  Sam’s jaw tensed and you watched him swallow hard.  The growing pressure on your leg from his groin gave him away and told you that the irritation on his face was nothing more than a rouse. You leaned your head back, laughing softly.  Suddenly, Sam’s hands were on your upper arms, holding you against the wall below the shower head again as he abruptly and quickly slammed himself into and against you, making you gasp as you felt how absolutely he filled you.  

  “I can do it better,” he said, thrusting into you as he pressed him lips to yours.  His hand lowered down to your thigh, picking it up and wrapping your calf around him.  You didn’t think it possible, but he was even deeper inside you, rubbing you in all the right places as you felt yourself climbing again.  Your face heated and you could feel your breathing getting shallower.  Doing your best to stifle your screams, you buried your face in his shoulder, biting at his skin to keep from shouting out as you again reached your release.  Harder and more intensely than you ever had before.  

  Sam thrust himself into you until he too reached his climax, groaning as he did so.  You uncoiled your leg from his hip, standing again as he slowly backed away from you and began to wash himself off.  As you regained your breath, your nerves still tingling from the experience, you began to wash your hair, finishing the job that you had originally intended to do.  

  A few silent minutes later, Sam stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and drying himself off.  He looked back at you, a wicked smile on his face.  “See you later,” he teased, wrapping the towel around his waist and heading out the door.  

*   *   *

  “I’m telling you, it came out of nowhere!”  You sat on your bed, your cell phone pressed to your ear.  

  “No way.  You’re full of it!”  Charlie’s high pitched tone shrieked from the other end.

  “Charlie, you’ve seen us together.  There’s no witty banter.  No flirting.  Hell, most of the time there isn’t even civility, just arguing or silence.  But I’m telling you, it happened!”

  “Pics or shens,” she responded, an air of disbelief still in her voice.

  “Sorry, I forgot to bring my camera into the shower with us. What was I thinking?” you mocked her, sarcastically.

  “You guys really did it?  You slept with Sam?  In the bathroom? I really hope you clean that thing before I come over.”  

  You rolled your eyes.  “Charlie,” your tone was chastising.

  “I’m kidding.  But hey, maybe there’s something there.  You never know.  Maybe the big lug has  thing for you.”

  “I’m pretty sure he already showed me his thing,” you retorted under your breath.

  “You’re so dirty,” she paused. “I love it.  Look, I gotta go.  I’ll be there in a few weeks.  But you had better tell me everything that happens between you two!”

  “Well then, I guess I’ll talk to you in a few weeks, since nothing is going to happen,” you practically shouted at her.

  Charlie laughed.  “See ya, Y/N.”  The phone disconnected and you laid back down on your bed, closing your eyes and slowly drifting to sleep.  

  You awoke what felt like only seconds later to a fist pounding on the door.

  “Up and at ‘em!” Dean yelled.

  You groaned in response.  “Come on, just give me a break!  I just got home!”  The door creaked open and Dean stepped inside. “Y/N, you got home like hours ago.  I know you-” he paused, smirking at himself, “took a pounding…but you’ve been asleep for nine hours.  We’ve got a case.”

 Dean flicked on the light, illuminating the room and burning your eyes before he walked back out into the hall leaving the door ajar. Right, you thought.  Got a case.

*   *   *

  It’s been three weeks and you haven’t even talked about it? Not even a little? Charlie’s text came through just like the rest of the ones she’d sent.  Her curiosity knew no bounds and she seemed deeply offended that you didn’t have juicier news for her.

  There’s nothing to talk about, C.  It happened.  It was awesome.  We moved on.  You replied back to her.

  I’m not buying it.  Dude’s totally in love with you.

 You looked at your phone, completely caught off guard. I’m sorry,  you replied. Where did you get that between the glares and the blatant disdain?  

  Oh, I don’t know.  Maybe from the constant concern for your well being.  Oh and you know, the completely screwing you into oblivion in the shower.

  You rolled your eyes, ready for an end to the same discussion and argument you and Charlie had been having for the last few weeks.  Her insisting that there was more to your relationship, if you could call it that, with Sam than there actually was.  And you, refuting her every attempt to convince you that you were wrong.

  Sure, Sam was an intensely attractive guy.  But he was also a hunter who just happened to be completely controlling, strong willed, and easily irritated by your mere presence.

  See you in the morning, C.  You sent your last message to Charlie, effectively ending the conversation.  You’d discuss the rest in the morning after she came back.  

  You got up from the desk in your bedroom, pushing your cell phone deep into your pocket and heading out into the map room to see if the boys were ready to head out.  They had caught wind of a Djinn in Mississippi and Dean was especially intent on getting the job done quickly.  “Dean?  Sam? You ready to go?”  You tossed your bag onto the table picking up the news clippings that were still sitting out and glancing through them.  

  Sam peaked around the corner at you from the bookshelf.  “He already left,” Sam told you.

  “Dean?  He went after it solo?”  

  “Yeah.  Headed out about an hour ago.  Said he wanted to take care of it on his own,” Sam explained.

 “And you let him?”  Your voice was skeptical as you looked at him, your eyebrows raised.

  “I’m not my brother’s keeper, you know.  I’m not that big a control freak,” he said, enunciating each word very specifically.

  You laughed, looking down at your feet and crossing your arms. “Could have fooled me,” you whispered off to the side.

  “What was that,” he asked you, already giving away that he had heard exactly what you’d said.

  “I said you could have fooled me.”  

  Sam smiled, walking up towards you again.  “If you want me to take control of you again, all you have to do,” his face was mere inches from you now as he brought his lips to your ear, whispering. “Is ask.”  

  “Aww, Sam,” you teased, moving your lips just as close to his ear.  “You’ll have to beg.”  Backing up, you could see Sam’s pupils begin to dilate as he swallowed, his eyebrow furrowing with an unknown expression.  You turned on your heal, grabbing your bag off the table and headed back towards your bedroom.  

  Sam caught up with you quickly, his hands grasping your hips firmly but pleasurably, and draping his tongue slowly up your neck at to your ear.  “I can do that, too,” he taunted you, as he guided you through your door and laid you back on your bed.

*   *   *

  This has got to be a joke, you thought, shaking the stick in your hand.  

  “Let me see it again,” Charlie said from where she stood, leaning up against the sink.   She grabbed the plastic from your hands, holding it gently by the tips of her index finger and thumb. “Y/N, it’s definitely there.”  

  “That doesn’t make any sense.  It has to be faulty.”  

  “And the three over there with the same thing, they’re faulty too, I guess” her tone was bordering on serious.

  “A bad batch maybe?  We should get some from a different store. Just in case.” 

  You saw Charlie roll her eyes, her frustration evident in her every mannerism.  You felt like you were having a panic attack.  Your chest felt too tight, your entire body was freezing but you were beginning to break out into a cold sweat.  “This isn’t happening,” you kept repeating to yourself as if it were your mantra.

  “Y/N?” Charlie said, concerned as he knelt down in front of you.  You looked up and into her eyes, seeing your terror reflected in them.  “Oh my God,” she said, leaning back.  “Cas, I’m praying to you here buddy.  If you wouldn’t mind, please, coming to the bunker, please and meeting us super quietly in the bathroom? Please?”  Charlie prayed as you attempted, and failed, to regain control of your breathing.  

  With a slight flutter of wind, Castiel stood in front of you, his face etched in an expression of concern, pity, and a hint of annoyance.  “Y/N.  Charlie,” he said, looking back and forth between the two of you before his eyes focused solely on you.  “Y/N. You need to calm down,” he said matter-of-factly as he pressed his two fingers against your forehead.  You instantly felt more calm, your breathing returned to normal and your heart no longer felt like it was going to burst out of your chest from pounding so hard.

  “So it’s true, then.” Your words flowed together, much less nervous and scared now.  “I really am.”

  “Pregnant?  Yes.  Of course,” Castiel confessed. “Have you told him yet?” he asked.

  “Of course not!”

  “You should.  He needs to know.”  Castiel’s deep voice resonated in your head as you began to envision what possible future you might have and what you stood to gain by telling him. Any way you cut it, you couldn’t see one that was happy and full.

  “No,” you declared.  “He doesn’t.”  You broke your eye contact with Castiel and looked back over at Charlie.  “I can leave.  I can run.  Hide.  Do whatever I want but he doesn’t ever have to know.”

  Castiel looked back at you, his face judgmental and angry.  “That isn’t the right decision.”  

  “Maybe not,” you stood up.  “But it’s my decision to make.” Charlie stood, looking back and forth between the two of you, uncharacteristically silent.  

  “Then, you leave me no choice.”  Castiel disappeared instantly and the terror that had been relieved suddenly came back ten fold.  

  “He’s going to tell him,” you realized.

  Charlie looked into your eyes.  “It’s really his, isn’t it? Sam’s?”

  You nodded your ascent as you began walking towards the door, grabbing the handle and opening it in what seemed like slow motion.  

  “Sam!” you screamed, hoping you could get his attention before Castiel did.  

  You ran towards Sam’s bedroom, seeing the door already open and catching the tail end of a khaki colored trench coat.

  “Sam,” you bellowed, nearly falling into the door and shoving Castiel to the side. Sam’s eyes snapped up to you from where he was laying on his bed, a book still in his hands as he lounged, his legs crossed at the ankle.  

  He looked at you expectantly as you could feel Castiel’s eyes boring into your skull at your side.  “I believe Y/N has something she would like to tell you.  Or do I?”  Cas looked at you, his eyebrows raised and eyelids narrowed.  Your eyes locked with Sam’s as he waited for the words you had for him.

  “I’m pregnant.”  You blurted it out as if it were nothing; as if you were ordering your normal meal from a diner.  “It’s your by the way.”  You finished the news, turning to face Castiel.  “Happy now?” you asked him before turning and walking out of Sam’s room and headed back to your won.

  You were halfway through throwing the contents of your top dresser drawer into your bag when Sam’s hand gently grabbed your wrist.  “Are you serious?” he asked, his voice sounding innocent and shy.  

  You dropped your belongings back into the dresser, sighing and turning your head towards him.  As you did your best to hold back tears, you could feel your eyes glaze over.  “Yeah,” you admitted, your voice shaking as you did.  Sam’s face broke into a smile, as he leaned down, cradling your head in his hands as he gently kissed you.  

  Breaking away from the kiss, you looked at him confused.  “But I thought-”

  “Thought what?”  He asked.  

  “That you hated me,” you said without hesitation.

  Sam’s thumb rubbed small circles on your cheeks.  “I’ve been sleeping with you because I hate you?  I am constantly worrying about you because I hate you?  How would that make any sense?”

  You shrugged, letting a smile begin to pull at your lips.

  “Quite the opposite,” he said leaning his forehead against yours.